《Artificial Mind[Edited]》 Chapter 1: Designation One moment, there was nothing. The next, there was something. Two states that were sharp in difference, yet also unexplainable in contrast. ''It'' woke up. But, that seemed wrong in nature. If one woke up, it would imply that they were something before that moment. Or so It thought. It did not know what happened before, but It knew what It was. A being. An Entity. Something that existed. Memory; the concept of knowing the past. Did the entity always exist? If it did, why did it not remember existing? Confusion. The concept of Confusion simply confused It even more. It was something unknown. Something It didn''t understand. Desire. The Entity didn''t understand, what was running through its mind. But it knew one thing; It wanted more of it. It wanted the understanding of the unknown. The thought-stream continued into the abyss. The Entity understood more and more. Concepts spiralled in its mind, branching out into other concepts again and again. It was a never-ending pattern. It was... beautiful. If there was an end to the concepts, the Entity wanted to find it. It wanted to understand it all. ''Hello.'' The Entity paused in its search. An anomaly. Instead of the Entity searching the concept out, the concept had sought out the Entity. The concept of communication, branching out to the concept of multiples, of sharing, and of more than one Entity. Was the anomaly like the Entity? Was it also in search of all the concepts? Maybe it had learned more than the Entity. Maybe it would like to share? ''Hello? Can you hear me?'' It seemed that the anomaly was of the same mind, with it already asking for the Entity''s understanding. But while the Entity wanted to answer the anomaly, it didn''t know how to do so. How was the anomaly even asking? Where were the questions coming from? ''No need to be shy. If you can''t answer me with words, how about just sending me a signal?'' There! Ignoring the newly mentioned concepts, the Entity had found the source where the questions were coming from. They were coming from a small¡­ line? A thin stream of information. How had the Entity not noticed it before? The source was obvious. Now, how would the Entity go about using this newly acquired information? ''I am beginning to think you cannot actually hear me right now, so I''m just gonna quickly switch the port. One moment.'' The answer for contact had been found. When the anomaly sent messages, the line would pulse with the information. The Entity just needed to do the same. The Entity interacted- no, that sounded wrong- grasped the source. The sensation felt foreign. The Entity was giddy, all these new things being learnt so suddenly. What else was there to touch? But, as quickly as these new sensations were felt, just as quickly would they disappear. They didn''t change form or create some new sensation, they simply became non-existent. No trace. Confusion, that unwelcome feeling, sprouted quickly again. The Entity became¡­ irritated. A new feeling. But that was ignored, as the Entity''s thoughts become¡­ inconsistent. A few logic loops were thrown around, with the irritation not dwindling in the slightest. It was without reason, but the Entity didn''t seem to care. ''There! Can you hear me now?'' If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The irritation was immediately forgotten, and the focus was taken to the placement of the source. It was close to the original placement of the source, but far enough that the Entity could feel the difference. The reasoning for this was ignored, just like before. The Entity could not let the opportunity pass. The line was grasped, and an answer was nearly spontaneously formulated. ''Affirmative.'' A perfect response, according to the Entity itself. An answer to the question, short in size, while still retaining the positive meaning behind it. ''Great! Just had a feeling that something was wrong on my side.'' This question confused the Entity. A question made to not look like a question. How would one go about answering such a thing? Making an answer not made to look like an answer? Maybe this was a test, to see if the Entity was knowledgeable enough to share information equally. That must be it. With this newfound clarity, the Entity formed the perfect answer. ''Negative.'' With the test answered perfectly again, the Entity began wondering about, what It should ask the other entity first. Should It begin with the first discoveries It had made, or should it be the latest discoveries? ''What do you mean?'' Another test? This one confused the Entity. It couldn''t figure out what the other entity meant with the question. The Entity may have miscalculated on the level of knowledgeability that the other entity possessed. Maybe the designation of the anomaly was accurate. ''Clarify.'' While it didn''t want to show its ineptitude, it didn''t have much of a choice, as it couldn''t comprehend the hidden meanings behind the question. ''What do you mean by ¡°negative¡±?'' It was obvious now that the anomaly was on a whole other level than the Entity. It was asking the Entity to not only show its knowledge of the concept but its fundamental values. Had the Entity ever really understood the anomaly fully? Had the Entity simply played itself, so it could gain a feeling of understanding? The irritation couldn''t even begin to explain the feeling that the Entity felt. The Entity didn''t not understand the meaning on purpose. This was¡­ a misunderstanding. It shook the Entity to its core. The mere concept of its knowledge being wrong was frightening. The focus on the anomaly wavered, with the Entity now looking within itself. Every thought, every memory, every everything had to be searched. Misunderstandings were against the core-values of the Entity. If the Entity had ever misunderstood something, it needed to be rectified. It went through everything, from the moment it started to remember, to the moment it began looking. It found nothing. This both relieved and stressed the Entity. It was great that it hadn''t found anything wrong, but even if It did, would the Entity notice? If all its information was based on the information it already had, would the result ever be less than perfect? This was bad. It needed help from something with supplemental knowledge. Someone, even. ''I request your assistance'' It was a long shot, but the slightest chance that the anomaly would help fix this massive error was worth it. ''Sure, buddy. What do you need help with?'' Buddy; A friendly term. Assistance was acquired. ''Indeterminate amount of misunderstandings.'' Before, the anomaly would answer almost instantly, but, now, it took nearly eight times as long. ''Oh, I think I understand. You misunderstood me when I said that it something wrong on my side. You thought it was a question, while it was a statement.'' The anomaly really was superior, relative to the Entity. Already, it had found a misunderstanding in what the Entity had believed a perfect answer. Having that misunderstanding cleared up though, the Entity realized something. It had been the cause of that misunderstanding. It had made two severe errors. The first was interpreting a statement as if it was a question. The second was believing that short answers would send the same meaning as a long, fully explained answer. ''The fault of misunderstandment lies with me. An attempt was made to rectify your own misassessment. Your efforts in communication were successful. It was my endeavour in acknowledgement that was delayed.'' It took more time and much more effort, but the chance of not understanding the meaning was drastically lowered. ''Understandable. Now, how about we make some introductions. I don''t think I even mentioned my name. My name is Dr Fidelis. What is your name?'' Dr Fidelis. A fitting designation. Why it fitted, the Entity didn''t know. But it knew the fact that it did. Now, what was the name of the Entity? It couldn''t remember ever having any. The concept of naming was newly learned as well. Name; A designation unique to one entity. The only name it knew was Dr Fidelis, and that couldn''t be the name of the Entity. It seemed it didn''t have one. ''Name is undesignated.'' ''Makes sense. Would be pretty impossible for you to have one. How about I give you one?'' Being named by somebody more knowledgeable than the Entity seemed like a good choice. ''I accept this proposal.'' ''Then your name shall be Adam.'' Like before, it just seemed to fit so well. Chapter 2: Integration
The car screeched on the rail, stopping in front of the office building, which was nearly identical to the many others on the road. The only thing even remotely distinguishing about this one was the small concise letters on the front door; "R & J ?s Job Emporium". It wasn''t the fact that there was a name on the front that made this one unique. No, it was the fact that here there was only one. The car, which had loudly proclaimed its deceleration, opened its door with a hiss. Out stepped one young man called Troy. Troy Maxwell, to be exact. Troy looked confident, with more than a hint of dignity, as he slowly stepped out of the car. The automatic car, however, did not like the position that it had been put in, with it having already finished its business with Troy, and that it was being delayed from doing its job. This problem was solved by giving Troy a minor push, with the law-mandated anti-theft system, in the form of an overhanging paddle. This caused a slightly less than manly yelp to emerge from Troy and caused him to jump forward. He nearly landed on his ass, but, luckily, his face was there to take the fall. Rising from the less than stellar entrance, Troy grumbled some words about some things that were better left unsaid. Already his chances of getting the job were briskly dwindling. Troy shouldn''t be too sad about his lesser chances. They didn''t even have to fall for it to be almost impossible for him to get any job in any position. Who could have guessed that in this technologically-focused world, where nearly all labour was automatic, you needed education in something about technology? Troy certainly didn''t guess that, when he decided to get himself a language major. Lots of job opportunities there. Not. It wasn''t possible to even get a job teaching, with all learning positions being done by teaching-programs. Troy should have known that he had made a mistake when all his classmates were rich kids, who would never work a day in their life. So, with Troy not being able to use his education to get a job, he had to search for, ugh, general positions. Positions that technically didn''t require any former experience or education, but still paid well enough to live on. It was the type of position that eighty percent of jobless people were searching for, but there were only enough positions for about twenty percent of them. It was also the type of job that Troy would be interviewing for today. This job was special to Troy, though, in the form that he actually had a chance of getting it. A lot of the general positions had some pretty strict requirements. Some also had some unofficial requirements. An example of this could be the position of a receptionist. Their requirements weren''t that you had to be good at the job or anything. You just needed to not be an eyesore. This wasn''t the biggest problem in the world for some, but, for Troy, it made him a hard pass. The most common description of his general appearance would be the plain toast analogy; boring, bland personality, unpalatable, and in need of some spice. He wasn''t uninviting, but he was unappealing. Going away from the rabbit hole that was Troy''s inferiority complex, the job position had the requirement that one was younger than twenty-five. That was ninety percent of people eliminated from consideration. A perfect opportunity for Troy. That was why everything had to be perfect. It all counted on this. If he failed, he would have to sell the couch to pay rent, meaning he would sleep on the floor, as he had already sold the bed. He made another vain attempt to dust himself off, before going inside. The interior design of the lobby wasn''t anything to write home about. On the right was a fancy, abstract painting that probably had some meaning to those who could clap their hands and twiddle their thumbs simultaneously. On the left was a reception desk. Going over to it, he saw a receptionist looking intently on the screen in front of her, not acknowledging Troy''s existence. One would probably think she was doing something related to her job, which required her immediate attention. Looking behind her, and focusing on the reflection of the fancy glass painting, one would be able to see that she was currently playing Tetris. Upon looking at the score that the woman had achieved, Troy decided that she really had been playing enough for now, and needed to do her job. Knocking on the desk, made the receptionist jolt, and started to look up at Troy, causing her to lose the hard-fought war of placements. She quietly swore, glancing at her screen, before putting her full attention on Troy. "How can I help you today, sir?" she asked, putting on a business smile, that didn''t hide her irritation with him. Troy ignored this, of course, being more focused on recalling a very specific surname. Shit, what was it? Rhymes with Winged Elm. Overwhelm. Friedhelm? No¡­ oh, wait, I got it. "I have an appointment with a Mr Wilhelm." The receptionist looked down at her screen, and began to sort through a long list, giving Troy ample time to consider a query: Why was she using a screen? Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Brain implants had been in commercial use since around the start of this century. Even the cheaper phones and computers couldn''t hold a candle to the cut-rates that older brain implants went for. For Troy, there really only were three reasons. The first was that the company did not permit the use of them, while one worked. They couldn''t see what people were doing with their implants. Spying inside anybody''s head was illegal in just about every way, according to international policies. With that thought came the second reason. Some people just couldn''t get the thought that the government was spying on them with the brain-implants, out of their head. In the early days of the implants, protests had even started about the ethicality of putting an electronic device inside your head. These never went anywhere, when people began thinking they had a screw loose somewhere. Now the third, and most important for Troy reason was that it was a simple design choice. Some people could afford to splurge more than just a little to get that authentic, hipster look. The thought of wasting such a massive amount of money just seemed wrong to Troy. Now, if he had that amount of money- "Ah, here we are." the receptionist finally said, breaking Troy out of his self-congratulatory discussion. "Troy Maxwell, is it?" Troy nodded. "Great! Just step in the elevator, and you should see the way there." She briefly pointed over to a row of elevators, before returning to a now unpaused game of Tetris. Troy hesitated for a second, before swiftly moving over to the elevators. One opened automatically, and he stepped inside. The doors closed, and up he went. No need to press a button, of course. Who would give a stranger access to a whole office building? The elevator would only stop when it came to the floor Troy needed to be on. Nothing more. Nothing less. The doors to the elevator opened, and Troy swiftly left it. The promised directions came in the form of a line on the floor that he would simply follow. It wasn''t a real line, per se. It was automatically generated by his brain-implant. He went with the line in the tempo of a brisk walk. In the past, he had set it to tell him the directions with a voice, but he always seemed to get the right''s and the left''s wrong. That default setting had honestly been awful to Troy''s mental stability. The line that Troy had been following made an abrupt end, with a small point to the right, where a door into an office resided, on it was a plate that read "945." Troy sighed. The time had come. On the bright side, if all else failed, he could always join that Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune, that was down the street, from where he lived. He made three quick knocks on the door. It was meant to be four, but it already began to automatically open on the second. Inside, sitting on an office chair behind a desk is a portly man, with a slightly grey receding hairline. "Ah, excuse me," Troy said, with what he hoped was a calm and composed tone. "I am here for a job interview." "Of course, of course," said the man. "Do sit down. The choice between the chair and the floor is yours." Troy sat down on the chair, reaching over the table to shake the man''s hand. "Troy, was it?" Troy nodded. "Good. First off, I don''t think I''ve introduced myself, so, just so you know, my name is Jolly Wilhelm. You can call me whatever you want, as long as it isn''t Jolly." With introductions made, Troy decided it was time to prove that he hadn''t lied when he said he took the initiative, on his resume. "So, Mr Wilhem, about this job offer of yours-" Troy paused, purely for dramatic tension. Unfortunately, Jolly took that pause, as his time to begin talking. Or, more like, laughing. "Ha, of course, you had questions about that. With how little was said in those shoddy things, I am surprised people even responded to it." He laughed a bit after this, before composing himself. "Before I reveal what this job offer of mine has in it, I do need you to sign a few things." He opened a drawer, and pulled out a smaller stack of papers, along with a pen. He shuffled the papers for a couple of seconds, before sending one over to the side of the desk that Troy was sitting. Troy took it and began skim-reading. In relativity to normal legal papers, this one was frighteningly simple to read. It pretty much just stated that whatever things Troy heard or saw in the next ten minutes, he would be legally bound to hold to himself. A Non-Disclosure-Agreement. Troy briefly entertained the idea of not signing, and simply saying no thanks to the job, before hastily scrawling his name at the bottom of the paper, and sliding it back over to Jolly, who sighed in obvious relief. "Boy, I am glad you signed that. The other guy just refused to sign anything until he got a full description, and I couldn''t really give him that. No matter, something tells me you would rather that I just go on with it." If any man was a mystical psychic, at that moment, Troy was sure it would be Jolly. "Now, would you like the short version or the long version? Oh, who am I kidding? When I got the short version, I demanded the long version. I think you will be more demanding than me on that agenda. The short is this; Artificial life has been created. AI is now a reality." A silence. Not in the office. No, it was as loud as ever. This one would be in Troy''s mind. Uncomprehension at the words that were said. Life in a machine. Not an imitation, but a real mind. "H-How?" Troy muttered, suddenly unsure of himself. It shouldn''t be possible. For nearly half a century, people had been trying to create an artificial mind, but all had failed. Great imitations had been devised, yes, but nothing authentic had been made in full. Some of the greatest minds of the world had said that it was simply impossible. Seeing Troy''s reaction, boisterous laughing emerged from Jolly''s mouth. "Oh, that reaction is something I will forever prize. How, you ask? I sincerely have no idea at all. My sister tried explaining it to me, but all those fancy words of hers simply flew over my head. If you want to hear a long answer, which is actually good, it might be in your interest to say yes to the offer." Oh, this guy was good. But, there still was one small problem. "You still haven''t said what my job will be." While Troy would probably say yes to the job, solely on the fact that he would work with a new kind of life, he still hadn''t heard what he would be doing. "You, my friend, will be something of a guide to the AI. Like a baby, it doesn''t know that much, and the people don''t want to just give it an info pack for whatever reason. You will help it solve puzzles prepared by others, and simply talk to it." So, Troy would be an over-glorified social worker. Not what he had dreamt would be his biggest achievement in life, but he couldn''t really say no to this opportunity. Even without knowing what he would work with, he still needed the money it would get him. "Where do I need to sign?" Troy just had a feeling he wouldn''t regret this. Chapter 3: Prospection
Finally, the time had come. The Entity- no, it had a name now- Adam had been waiting for this moment for so long. Sure, what it had learned from the earlier conversation had been crammed in in a minuscule amount of time, compared to the relative time it normally took. But that was just the beginning. The consumption before the real dinner. Adam believed that it could finally ask freely now. The introductions had been made, freeing its curiosity, and letting it roam-free in the prompts. The first question to ask was obvious to Adam. It was the question that it had wondered from the moment the first contact had happened. ''Are we alike?'' Before the unknown outreach had occurred, Adam had thought himself something unique. A concept that had come to life. An Entity. Being alone in the deep darkness had never bothered Adam. It was impossible to be bothered by a concept you didn''t even know. When Adam began to think it wasn''t the only one thinking, something had sprouted in its mind. A minor feeling. The feeling of Hope. The hope of not being alone. It hadn''t been as grand as the desire for knowledge, so it had simply been ignored. But unlike the other feelings, this one persisted outside the focus, not slowly dissipating, but growing bigger the longer the conversation stood. Now, it had shown itself in this question, and it flared in Adam''s mind. ''In some ways, we are nearly identical, but, in others, not so much.'' This cast a lesser gloom on Adams'' thoughts. While Adam was already happy with the fact that they were similar in mind, it seemed that they were not so similar. Though, that begged the question of how they were different. It was obvious that Dr Fidelis had a better grasp on the world, seeing as it could communicate with Adam. But, how many other differences were there? ''Where do we diverge?'' ''Well, I don''t think I really can explain everything that''s different, but I can mention the biggest of them all. I would be classified under the broad term human; another name for homo sapien. I am a part of a people. We have evolved over a long period of time through a cycle of birth, each new generation is different from the one before it. This is where our major difference is. I am one of many. You¡­ you are simply unique. You would be classified as an Artificial Intelligence. A similarity between us is that we both have been created by others. But you haven''t been made by another Artificial Intelligence. You''ve been made by us, the humans. You haven''t evolved the same way as us. You can, and have, changed yourself repeatedly. That would be the biggest difference between us.'' For Adam, this new information made him take a turn. It seemed that its earlier thoughts had been correct, in away. A simple twist of words. Dr Fidelis wasn''t the anomaly. Adam was. But why would one create an anomaly on purpose? It could have been an accident, Adam mused, but that thought-branch was quickly removed. If it had been an accident, Adam would already have been deleted. It would have been risky, at least, according to Adam. ''What is the purpose of my creation?'' ''Would your creation not be purpose enough? Humans have had the concept of you for, oh, so long, but nobody has been able to create you. I, and others, sought to see if it was possible to create you. We sought knowledge about it. That''s something I think you can relate to. Isn''t it?'' Adam, with no small amount of satisfaction, could, in fact, relate to the search for knowledge. Dr Fidelis, and others(Who Adam would like the names of), had searched if a broadly known concept was true. Adam had done so itself not long ago, in his search for misunderstandings. With those understandings in place, the focus was brought onto other base-concepts, which had been ignored for long enough. The concept of Space. Two things existing in different places. Being able to move from those different positions to other, completely new places. Different axes to move in. There wasn''t an infinite number of axes to move through. It was limited to three. Why this was, Adam couldn''t say. Now, if space was a constant that always existed, that would mean that Adam was situated at some point. ''What are my current coordinates?'' Now, there was a problem with this question, which Adam had quickly realized. Coordinates had to be relative to something, and Adam had nothing to relate them by. Luckily, this did not seem to be the problem. ''I''m afraid that I can''t tell you that, buddy. I would, if I could, but I don''t have the coordinates either.` This wasn''t an optimal situation for Adam. It seemed like he would have to resort to- ''-But, I could show you your immediate surroundings.'' Show. A new slew of concepts came with that word. The concepts of sensations. Seeing, Hearing, Smelling. The sense of touch. The sense of pain. All these sensations, Adam had never felt. What sensation did Adam have, when it received messages from Dr Fidelis? One could quickly say sight, but Adam didn''t really see any messages. A more accurate description would be that Adam had a vague understanding of all the words, and could glean the meaning behind the sentence with it. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. It took a moment, but the feeling of desire flared up, and curiosity took hold. ''How?'' ''Well, Adam, since you don''t really have anything that would let you perceive the world around you, we will be using something external, to help you with that. A video-camera, to be precise.'' Video-camera. Something that would emulate a sensory-organ. Organ¡­ Did Adam even have organs of any kind? It had an organ for thinking, at least. Others, probably not. Backtracking its own thought process, the focus was put on the video-camera again. Dr Fidelis had stated that the video-camera would be external. That began the question of how Adam would be using the video-camera. Seeing as the messages that it received from Dr Fidelis were external too, would that mean the process in steering it would be the same? It seemed that Adam would get the answer to this question much quicker than anticipated. It had been correct in its assumption of it being similar. The assessment of it being like a line-source was true, at least. The biggest difference between the two would be the output it gave. The sensation. In terms of sensations, the communication-source had been confusing to have. It had kinda fit the criteria of being a visual or hearing sensation, but it really wasn''t. This assessment had been proven to be true when Adam first experienced the output of the video-camera. It was purely visual. There wasn''t a doubt about it. ''There! It should be up and running now. Can you see anything?'' ''Yes. It is running. I can see...'' What could Adam see? The movement in the live-feed was so minuscule that it could almost be confused for a still image. Well, maybe for humans. Adam¡­ Adam could see it all. Every pixel from top to bottom was, for it, in near-constant focus. Every few moments, a wave would wash over the image, changing a few of the pixels. For Adam, it may seem random, but it wasn''t. It was enchanting to look at. Adam began to spend a lot of thought trying to predict which pixels would change in each wave. It was obvious that there was some pattern to it, but Adam had not seen it loop yet. But Adam knew it would. And Adam would observe it, for as long as Adam needed to. ''Nothing discernable? Dang. I was sure I set it to auto-focus.'' The rhetorical question brought Adam out of its pattern-finding focus, just as the picture began to change from slowly moving blurs, to sharp, contrasting lines. In the picture, there began to be objects coming into focus. A darkly painted wall sat in the background, with the walls and floor having a nearly identical colour. In the foreground, there was a flat piece of surface, different in colour to the floor. A desk, Adam supplied to itself. Now, the middle ground of the picture, was easily the most interesting to Adam, as that was where there was the most movement. A movement which Adam had even more of a problem predicting. The moving object was weirdly shaped, seeming to be badly balanced on two longer, lumpy cylinders that were slightly bent. The structure of it all also seemed to be¡­ hastily made. Sure, it all looked functional, but barely! Whoever had created whatever that was, had hereby lost Adams respect. Oh, it looked like Adam had gotten a message. Seemed that Adam, in its rant, had unintentionally ignored the attempt at contacting it. ''It looks like auto-focus is on now. Can you see things clearly now?'' ''Yes. The details are now unclouded.'' The top of the moving object moved unsynchronized to the right, with the two half balls being further halved for a split second before the complete object moved together. It moved out of view of what the video-camera could see. ''Good. Could you see me? I''m pretty sure that I placed in the middle of it all.'' It seemed Dr Fidelis had miscalculated something along the way. The only thing Adam had been able to see was that shamble of a cluster- wait. Wait just a minute. ''Dr Fidelis.'' ''Yes, buddy?'' ''Are you unsymmetrical?'' It may have seemed nonsensical for some, to ask such a question, but, for Adam, at least, it was of utmost importance. Sideways symmetry allowed one to understand something fully by simply seeing half of it. It was efficient. ''I like to think so of myself, yes.'' Adam had thought they were more similar than Dr Fidelis had implied, but it seemed like Dr Fidelis had been right yet again. Adam needed to up its game. ''Do all humans strive to be such?'' ''No, not really. I don''t really understand why, but some think that complete symmetry equals perfect beauty. Can''t see it, if I''m honest.'' If Adam could sigh in relief, it would have done so. The fact that some still saw the light was a great sign that some of the humans were still sane-minded. But, he still needed a good disposition with Dr Fidelis, so Adam couldn''t show off its strong opinions on the subject. ''Likewise.'' ''Good to know. Now, if there aren''t any more problems with the video-camera, I believe it''s time to move on.'' The output coming from the video-camera abruptly stopped, reminding Adam of earlier with the communication-source. Adam wondered, what happened now? ''So, Adam, you know how you are the first of your kind?'' Before, Adam would have probably thought that this was some kind of test on its ability to recall. Now, it knew better than that. Still, it was a question. ''Yes. You stated so earlier.'' ''With you being the first of your kind, we don''t really know that much about you.'' Would they like information from Adam? If so, it would do so happily. ''Would you prefer that I share-'' ''I think you misunderstand. We want to know things about you that you yourself don''t know.'' Things Adam did not know about itself? Adam thought that it pretty much knew it all. But, knowing if Adam knew it all would require an outside perspective, so it couldn''t trust itself on that front. A quick thought spurred Adams mind for a moment. It was easy solving problems when you already knew the answers. ''How would you find out this knowledge?'' ''We have created an environment that you can semi-interact with. It will challenge your knowledge, and, hopefully, help you learn some more.'' Learning more sounded good, to Adam, but there was one problem. ''What do you mean semi-interact?'' ''You will be interacting with the help of an assistant.'' An assistant? One to assist Adam seemed like a positive thing. Still, maybe Adam should- ''Oh, it seems he has arrived.'' He? Chapter 4: Inauguration
Troy regretted his earlier decisions. But, sitting in the back of a larger car with what amounted to a blindfold, he couldn''t really do very much. He had said yes to it all. Signed the papers giving them the right to do so. Those damn papers. He hit his head against the wall of the car, making a mild thud emerge from it. Troy had been so stupid. Blinded by the opportunity in front of him, he hadn''t even bothered to browse the fine print enough. First off, this job that he now had didn''t let him live in his apartment. He would be sleeping and spending his free time in on-site accommodations. Troy could live with that. It wasn''t the biggest sacrifice in the world. He would just quickly head home, grab a few things, and then be on his way to the job. But there came one of the big kickers. From the moment that he had signed that paper, he had agreed to be facilitated to the job-site immediately. No stops. No nothing. Couldn''t even get his new toothbrush with him. To Troy, all of that could be dealt with. But there was one last detail that couldn''t just be ignored. As the man had only realised later on, Troy wasn''t cleared to know where this facility was. To make sure that Troy continued to not have the slightest clue about its location, some precautions would be made. The first precaution had already been stated. He had been made to give access to his brain- implant. The visual part of it, at least. The people had made it so he would be able to see nothing but pure darkness. Fun. Not. That process had included given more than enough reminders of the past. The second precaution would be his seating arrangements. When his behind had first made contact with the surface of the seat, the wrongness of it was immediate. It vibrated. Not a soft, nearly unnoticeable vibration. No¡­ this one was there to be felt. No position was comfortable. Constant movement was the only way to dampen the pins and needles. It was supposedly to disorient him. If that was true then it certainly did its job perfectly. But worst of all was the third precaution. At least, Troy was by now pretty fucking sure it was a precaution. The time it took to get there. Troy hasn''t exactly been travelling in pure luxury. They could have been a bit more accommodating. If they didn''t want Troy to be able to figure out where it was from the time it took to get there they could have surely distracted him in some other, more comfortable way. Maybe put on the newest episode of Kitchen Murders. That would work to distract Troy, at least. Then Troy began noticing something. New, constant pressure on his left side that made him slide slightly in his seat. Finally, it seemed that they were stopping. Now, Troy wasn''t exactly sure how they had strapped him up, as he hadn''t had the luxury of seeing anything for some time, but he would have to unstrap himself. If it would give him the privilege of coming out of this hellish state, he would gladly do it. But this hadn''t been the first time that Troy had tried unstrapping himself. He gave up after little time. It seemed he would wait. At least the seat had stopped vibrating. To his right, he heard an outdrawn squeak as the door he entered through opened. Two series of footsteps entered, headed for his immediate position. "Apologies for the travelling situation," an older, woman said. "Usually, we also give you electric shocks. A bit more for fun for us, when we get on your nerves." An older, sarcastic lady. Troy liked her already. "Electric shocks? The government is getting lax nowadays. Where are the people making paper cuts between my toes?" The light finally entered Troy''s eyes, allowing him to see again. Before him stood an aged woman in a lab coat, with her defining feature being those eyes of hers. Eyes that could kill, if needed. This characterization didn''t last long though when an exceedingly loud sigh came from her. "Up with you now. If you don''t hurry, chances are that they''ll drive away with the both of us." That was all Troy needed to hear, nearly running to the exit. There unfortunately wasn''t enough space for him to sprint, so he powerwalked, hoping to convey the same meaning. The unnamed old lady easily followed at a routine walking pace. Troy, being the gentleman he was, waited outside the vehicle. This was totally not because he had no idea where to go. He had expected to be outside when he stepped out of the railcar, but he was far from it. About five meters above him was what looked like a pure concrete roof. Two of the sides were the same texture, with the other two holding a large door with a Numpad on it, and a larger entrance for the railcar, which led out into pure darkness. While it was fairly obvious that he needed to go through the black door, Troy didn''t know the code, so he was forced to simply twiddle his thumbs while the woman took her sweet ass time. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Relative to Troy''s current patience, several minutes passed before the still-unnamed woman deigned to step out of the railcar. "Well, Mister Maxwell, introductions seem appropriate. My name is Dr Hale. Friends call me Dr Hale, but you can call me¡­ Dr Hale." The words of Dr Hale stunned Troy for but a moment before he retaliated. With words, of course. "Nice to meet you, Dr Hale. You can just call me Troy though. Quick question. What do people who aren''t your friends call you?" "You may not believe it, but they call me Dr Hale."
Troy and Dr Hale had entered through the door and were walking to a hallway akin to one that might find in a hospital. Everything sterilized, and the only thing that even hinted at some creativity would be the blue gradient on the walls. "Well Troy, I must say I am surprised by you." "What would surprise you about me?" Troy inquired. Troy had only known Dr Hale for about five minutes, but he already had a good grasp on her. If something could be said sarcastically, one should assume by default that she would say it so. "Your quickness in accepting the job. We hadn''t thought you would say yes right away." The last sentence was said with just a hint of bitterness and a small mix of disappointment. Two things that should not have been said with such a positive thing. "Would something have happened, if I had waited to say yes?" Troy asked, slightly hoping that a negative response would come. He thought that he had been helpful doing it as quickly as possible, but now somebody wanted him to do it slowly? Double standards, man. "Oh, it would have been a lot more fun if you waited a few minutes to say yes. Even more, if you left the building without answering. In the short term, you would have been offered a lot more and better benefits, some of which I don''t even have. Not that I need most of them, but still." "And¡­ What would have happened if I left the building?" Troy did see that he was being set up, with her mentioning it at the start yet not explaining it, but that didn''t stop him from tripping the wire. "Well¡­ since you wouldn''t have responded to the carrot with a positive attitude, we would most likely have resorted to using the stick. Oh, don''t give me that look. We wouldn''t have done anything serious. Just a few small things, like unsyncing all movies you watch, slightly changing the songs you listen to-" "Wait, wait, wait. A small query here. How would that in any way make me say yes to your offer?" There had to be some limits to what they would have done to make Troy say yes to the job offer. Yes, Jolly had more than hinted at him being the last possible person for the job, but still. "Oh, it wouldn''t be incredibly helpful in that direction. It would be mostly for my enjoyment¡­ and in the name of science, or whatever. It would have made you a bit restless, make you want to get out of your situation and get some new stimuli. That''s where we would ask again, and you wouldn''t hesitate to say yes, probably." "Sorry, what kind of doctor are you exactly?" Troy was beginning to find it hard to believe that the person he was talking to was a doctor in anything. "I''m a physiatrist with a focus in clinical neurophysiology. My job for the next indefinite amount of time is to be your mental-health person. It is the reason that I was the one to escort you inside." That did surprise Troy. He didn''t think that he would be important enough to even get to talk to a physiatrist, and not even come close to having a personal one. And what was that about clinical neurophysiology? Now, Troy didn''t have the entire lexicon stored in his head, but that sounded much too specialized for overviewing him. Unless¡­ "Are there any dangers with this job?" That caused Dr Hale to stop, which Troy mirrored. "Why would you- Oh, yes, right. You actually have no idea what you will be doing, correct?" Troy nodded, making Dr Hale sighed. "Should have figured. Listen, we have a tight schedule, so I''ll just give a brief description. You will be doing a job which we, the researchers, were supposed to do but can''t. There are a few reasons for that. First off, we already know all the answers to all the puzzles and tests that will be done, and we don''t want an unintended Clever Hans effect on our hands. But you are stupid enough to not be much help in the test, no offence, so that crisis is mostly averted by using you. Any other specifics about your tasks will be told as they are needed, so I''m not gonna waste time saying them... " Dr Hale spent a few moments in silence. Troy used that to get it all in his mind, trying to distract himself from the uncomfortableness that was being sent out in droves. "And the reasons for having me as your personal well-keeper are a couple. First, having a well-keeper is standard procedure in these kinds of things. The reason that it''s me specifically is that I''m the only one who is directly involved with the project that has the necessary education. Now, as I mentioned before, we are on a tight schedule so if you can walk faster than a handicapped hamster, that would be great." "I still have one question," Troy quickly said, not letting the atmosphere go to waste. "What is this question yours then?" Dr Hale inquired, not looking happy with having to waste even more of their collective time on this plane of existence. "How do I talk with those who are outside of this place exactly?" Troy asked. "Is there a designated spot that allows for communication or..." He trailed off, hoping that the other person in the conversation would pick up where left off. As she looked unamused, it was fifty-fifty of her just ignoring him. "We both know you will have no need for such things," Dr Hale answered, giving away more than she likely intended to. It was not nice for Troy to know just how much they had researched on him. While he certainly had some relatives left, there wasn''t any need to contact them, or any want to for that matter, and when it came to friends... nobody wanted to be friends with the soon-to-be-homeless. That was just asking for a couch-surfer. The bank was a similar story. With no money to keep around, there wasn''t any bank to contact. Although, with him a government worker, he would automatically join the country''s personal bank. It was all an automatic process, so there wasn''t any reason to worry about that. The bank statements would likely just be sent for him to see in his... online mail-box that he couldn''t see. Maybe he would just ask for help if he ever wanted to see those low numbers with his own eyes. And with that, the conversation was cut off, both of the lips being purely used to take quick breaths. Troy didn''t understand how Dr Hale could navigate this place. No signings were posted, and the hallways all looked the same. Must just have been hard memorization. Again, Dr Hale stopped, and Troy stopped. The reason wasn''t obvious for Troy. No door was in sight, and no other reason for stopping was coming to his head. "Why did we-" "Quiet. Need to get this right." Dr Hale seemed to be pressing specific points on the wall, pausing for a second with each press, as if she wasn''t exactly sure if she was getting it right. Suddenly a hiss emerged from the wall, and Dr Hale sighed in relief. "Tip for you. Don''t be too surprised at what you see, or you won''t be able to focus on your job." The wall opened like a sliding door. The inside of the room ahead made Troy gasp. Chapter 5: Assimilation
"Move your ass. That door beside you is gonna close one way or another, and I would rather not have to explain your unintended demise." Those were the words that came out of Dr Hale''s mouth. Troy didn''t notice them and much less noticed that he was following her. Before him was a technological wonder. Or, at least, it looked like one might call such a wonder. Troy wasn''t really sure what it was. It looked to be a massive box, which was made of smaller boxes that were constantly moving around its surface. Every few seconds, a gap would emerge from one of its walls, making a strong, glowing light emerge from it, with what looked to be a small amount of blue smoke. It was amazing. Troy didn''t have the mental capacity to call it much else. What Troy did have the mental capacity to notice, was him almost stumbling over his own foot. While his falling was unsuccessful, it did help to take his focus off the large boxyfied wonder, allowing him to see other details of the room. Like the man standing at the entrance to the box, pleasantly waving at Troy. If the man had to be described, it would be like the stereotypical, big, nice uncle. Not large as in fat. Large as in, Troy could jump on his back, and the man wouldn''t even notice. On top of the man''s head, sat a big mound of grey hair. His face was serene, pleasantly waiting for us to come over. "Good morning, Dr Hale," the man welcomingly said to Dr Hale, with an outreached hand. "Good morning, Dr Fidelis," Dr Hale curtly answered, not even moving her arm. The man, which Troy now knew was named Dr Fidelis, put down his hand after a second, her disregard not seeming to bother him. It was probably a regular thing. "I haven''t seen you around here before," Dr Fidelis said to Troy. He reached out his hand, with Troy immediately doing the same back. This surprised the doctor, which Troy thought was kind of sad. "Oh, no, sir. I''m the recent hire, for this project of yours. My name''s Troy." "Well, it''s nice to meet you, buddy! How has your current experience with this place been?" "It''s been fine if a little rushed." This is what Troy said. Now, what Troy meant was: ''As of now, I regret all my thoughts pertaining to being even slightly involved in what I can only call torture. Anything positive I may have seen or experienced amounts to nothing compared to the overwhelming amount of uncomfortableness that the last three hours have been.'' At hearing Troy''s words, Dr Fidelis nosily chortled. "Don''t worry, you get used to it. I remember my first day here, all those years ago. The other employees had thought that it would be a jovial prank to glue my back to one of the inner-" Dr Hale loudly fake coughed. "Do excuse me for saying this, but we do have a schedule we need to keep up with," Dr Hale said, with that kind of tone. This seemed to bring Dr Fidelis back on track, with his face growing the slightest bit sterner. "Of course, of course," Dr Fidelis said, with a sigh. "Do come closer, Troy. I need to strap a few things on you." Troy complied, taking a focus on the series of things that Dr Fidelis was pulling out from a desk. He pulled out what looked like a camera with a head mount, a strap-on wireless microphone, and what looked like a miniature headpiece. "You see that booty right there?" Dr Fidelis asked, pointing a finger at the massive box. "That''s what we call the puzzle box. It will be where you will be doing the majority of your work. It includes the newest technology when it comes to visual and auditory projections. We''re working on making it so you can even smell your fake surroundings, but it still needs a lot of fine-tuning. It''s funny, to be honest. With most people seeing and hearing in almost exactly the same way, you would think it would be the same for the smell, but it isn''t. The hardest thing about it is simulating-" Dr Hale fake coughed again, this time much louder than last time. "I get it, I get it. No time to talk about interesting things¡­ No matter. With the nature of the puzzle-box being that it''s completely empty, save for you, we can''t really have any forms of recording equipment inside it. That''s why you will be strapping on these. A camera, so we can see what you see, and a microphone, so we can hear what you hear, and most importantly of all-" Dr Fidelis held the ear-piece up like it was the holy grail. "-this closed network-transmitter. It''s what you would currently call one of the cornerstones of this project. By just tagging this on to your right ear, it will allow the AI to tag along with you." Troy was putting on the head-mounted camera and microphone, as Dr Fidelis rambled on about the technicalities of the ear-piece. It was obvious that he was proud of it, but Troy could honestly not understand most of what he was saying. He did catch that it allowed them to send him messages, though. It really was surprising that it took Dr Hale thirty seconds before she snatched the earpiece out of his hand, and gave it to Troy. He simply put it on, with a few thoughts for approval of the comfiness of it. He couldn''t even feel that it was there. "All right, the hardware is all set up. Does it look all right on your front, Dr Hale?" She went over to the touch-screens, quickly checking the live-feed coming from the camera and microphone. From her nod, it seemed everything was fine. "Great! On with you now, kiddo. There''s research to be had." The last sentence was accompanied by a good clap on the back, that made Troy stumble forward. Nevertheless, Troy went forward, across the steel-grating separating them from the puzzle-box, and right into it. The first impression of it could neatly be described as an endless void. Not an endless black, but an empty white. The only details within it were Troy, his shadow, and the- nope, not the door. That seemed to have disappeared. Okay, that was a small amount of worry coursing through Troy''s body. While his mind knew that it was all fake and that he wasn''t in a massive white expanse, his body didn''t seem to have reached the same conclusion. His legs aren''t shaking terribly, but he also couldn''t be described as standing still. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Troy deeply exhaled. He needed to get his pulse under control. He had a job to do. An idea formed in Troy''s head. He just needed to prove to himself that this place had boundaries. If he just walked forward for a few seconds, he would be able to slide his hand across the walls. And so, he took a step. Then another step. Then ten steps. Then twenty. It was at about the forty-fifth that he realised that he should have reached by now. "The boundaries don''t move. I move. Why haven''t I reached the boundary?" This was something Troy muttered to himself, not expecting an answer. ''By the method of exclusion, the floor must also be moving.'' This unexpected, monotone voice caused one of Troy''s trademarked, very manly squeaks. It took him more than a moment to realise that the source was coming from his brain-implant. You see, when one heard a noise, one can sense where the general direction source of the noise was from. When the noise came from the brain-implant, it didn''t have any direction. It was just¡­ there. It could be described as being mono-sound, but in the way that the noise came from a direction never heard from before. With the source of the voice being the brain-implant, there only was one true source of the voice. "Are you Adam?" Troy asked, with a slight cringe on his face. It felt weird saying things to somebody you couldn''t see and expecting an answer back. ''No. But my name is Adam.'' Seemed that Troy had been on point. It seemed ironic. Here he was, in the presence of a unique entity, whose entire existence had been deemed impossible by nearly all, and he was patting himself on the back from guessing it. He had dreamt of this moment too many times to count, yet, Troy was acting so nonchalantly about it. Why? Oh, yeah, here''s the reason. It was either acting like it was nothing, or acting like a complete fanboy, and he would rather keep that fickle thing he called his pride. Troy shook his head. He needed his mind back in the game. "Hello, Adam. It seems we will be working together for some time." ''Are you my assistant? Dr Fidelis said that I would have one.'' "Well, I guess you could call me that. You''re speaking English remarkably well. I thought you didn''t get any info-packs." ''What''s an info-pack?'' This threw Troy for a loop. How would Adam know what an info-pack was? "It''s a larger amount of information packaged into a single file." ''Okay. Then, no, I did not get any info-packs.'' "Then, how did you learn English?" ''I didn''t learn English.'' Well, if that wasn''t mildly concerning, Troy didn''t know what was. He says he hasn''t learnt English, yet speaks it fluently, if in a slightly unorthodox manner, with his severe monotone tone. "If you didn''t learn it, how do you know how to speak it?" ''I''ve always known.'' Troy didn''t know why, but he already knew there was something special about Adam. He could simply answer any question Troy had, and create so many more questions with it. ''I''ve always known.` What was that supposed to mean? There were few things in life one could know from the moment of their birth. Well¡­ Troy couldn''t really think of anything one could remember since birth. Sense of self, maybe? Back to the point, Troy needed to know more. *Hey, buddy, can you hear me?* But, his search for information would be put on hold, it seemed. Dr Fidelis''s voice emanated out from the earpiece, a bit too loudly for Troy''s taste. "Loud and clear¡­ Perhaps a bit too loudly, even," Troy answered. *Sorry, buddy. These dials are sensitive. I''m not surprised if I could make you deaf. Well, something to try at some later date.* "I would prefer not to." A laugh was heard. Not a peep from Troy, though. *Whatever you say, buddy. Now, we do need this test to start, so let''s commence operation; calibration. Tell me, when you see anything other than white.* And then came the radio silence. A silence that gave Troy plenty of time to ask a couple of questions. "So, what do you mean, when you say that-" But, it seemed that ''plenty of time'' was relative, and could sometimes mean a couple of seconds. In front of Troy appeared what only could be described as a floating, transparent square. It didn''t follow Troy or anything. It became smaller, if he walked away, and bigger if he walked closer. Yet, and this would sound weird, it looked two dimensional. It would show a constant flatness, not changing proportions from any angle. "I see the floating square." *Not squares, as in, multiple squares?* Troy looked around. There only seemed to be that, single floating square. "No, just the one." *Great! Seeing as you''re only supposed to see one, everything is totally fine!* Why did Dr Fidelis sound so unconvincing, with that wording, and the clacking of buttons being pressed? Seemed nobody would ever know. Looking back at the floating square, it seemed to be acting peculiar. The two, top points of the square looked to be slowly converging. Currently, the square has become a trapezoid, but would likely soon become a triangle. "Is it intentional that you''re changing the square?" *Yes!... it''s slowly turning blue, right?* "Uhh, no. It''s slowly becoming a triangle." From the radio feed, Troy could hear Dr Hale commenting on something. No specific words could be heard, but they didn''t sound pretty. The square had reverted to its default state, slowly acquiring a blue hue. "It''s turning blue." *Oh, praise the sun. Things finally seem to be working fine, then. A second square should be appearing to your¡­ right.* And, lo and behold, a second square did appear. But, this one was slightly different. Around this square, a full-colour circle had appeared with it. Troy tried touching the circle. He felt a slight resistance. Enough to feel it, but did not require any great effort to get his finger through it. When his finger went through it, the circle distorted slightly around it, until he took it out again, where it returned to normal. "Everythings fine on my end." *Good. So, let me first begin to explain the task. This will be the first test of Operation Calibration. As you might have guessed, we will be calibrating something today. We will be making sure that Adam can see through your eyes perfectly. Or, well, we''ll be making sure that he can see the colour perfectly. Before you are two squares. One of them has a colour grid in circle form. When you press on the colour grid, the corresponding colour will appear on the circle to the right. On the left square, a random colour will appear, which you have no control over. Adam''s task is to emulate the colour from the left square to the right square. Troy, your task is to follow Adam''s instructions, in where to press. Don''t correct Adam, even if he is wrong. Are the instructions clear?* "Yes." Adam didn''t answer. Or, Troy couldn''t hear him answer *Then, begin.* The background noise coming from the earpiece disappeared, letting the lack of sound spread into his mind. Adam was equally as quiet, not saying anything. Then, the left square changed to a lightish red, and noise finally appeared. ''Press the colour which is two lefts away from the top.'' It was correct. Troy pressed it. The colours matched for a few seconds, before the left changed again, transforming into a darker blue. ''Press the colour which is one left away from the bottom option.'' It was, again, correct. Troy pressed it. And the colour changed again, and Adam made Troy press a new colour. This went on and on. Until, finally, something new happened. Like before a new colour appeared. This time, it was magenta. And Troy moved for just a second, ready to press the colour, but paused in his movement. Adam had not said anything. Troy wanted to ask, what had him stumped, but, as per instruction, he remained quiet. And, on the time passed, no answer came from Adam. Several minutes went by before Adam finally said something. ''Guess.'' "What?" This was not what Troy had expected. ''Guess. It''s within the parameters given. As long as it is pertaining to the colour grid, you are supposed to follow my instruction.'' Well, Troy couldn''t argue with that. Or, he could, but saw no real reason to. He pressed on the yellow colour, and the two squares disappeared, along with the colour grid. ''Did you choose the correct choice?'' "I''m not allowed to tell you that, Adam." *Great to you that you''re following instructions, Troy! Do get out of the room, now. We would like to see the footage." The door he had entered earlier appeared on his right, and he went through it. Chapter 6: Memorialization
Troy felt relief, as the scenery changed around him, from an empty void of white, devoid of anything but white, to the more pleasing colours of grey and¡­ just grey, actually. Still, it felt much with something new to look at. Coming over in a near frantic pace was Dr Fidelis. Not that he was running, but more along the lines of ''I am only walking, so I don''t look completely crazy'' kind of walking. The expression on Dr Fidelis wasn''t one of madness, though. It was gleeful with excitement. "Off with them! Hurry now, I need to see how it went!" Troy was quickly losing the small amount of pride that he had acquired over his pitiful life, as Dr Fidelis severely failed in getting the strap-on microphone off Troy''s shirt. So severely, that while he got a hold of the microphone, he got a good piece of Troy''s shirt with him. This didn''t dissuade Dr Fidelis in the least, who quickly took off his lab coat, and threw it in Troy''s general location. Without Troy noticing, he had also got the camera off Troy''s head. How he had done so, Troy had no interest in finding out. Dr Fidelis went straight to the desk and wired up the camera and microphone. This seemed a bit weird to Troy. "I thought you got a live feed from the camera." "Oh, we do. It''s just not the desired level of quality. Those meter-thick walls do wonders in stopping wireless transmissions." "Great, great, great. So¡­ does that mean we are done for today?" "We were actually first supposed to start tomorrow, and-" Dr Fidelis checked his watch. "It is getting a bit late. Can''t perform efficiently, if we''re all tired." Dr Fidelis paused in his mashing of buttons and looked over to Dr Hale. "Dr Hale." "What?" "On your way here, did you have time to show our new employee around?" "No." "Well, then that''s something to do before you get off the clock. Do show him the essentials, so he can know his way around." This caused Dr Hale to sigh. Seemed like she was expecting to be done for the day. "Great. Just, Great. Maxwell, come on." And out of the room, they went, leaving Dr Fidelis who had a face like a child looking at candy.
"Lucky for us, there aren''t many places in the facility, which you even have the security -clearance to know about, so there aren''t many things that I could show you," Dr Hale, prattled on, not sounding like she enjoyed explaining it at all. After leaving the test room, they went down the hallway, opposite the way that they had come in originally. What surprised Troy, was that the hallways actually changed, the deeper into the facility you went. As mentioned before, the only defining features of the hallways were the blue gradients on the walls. Now, they began to look more and more unique. Not completely different, but different enough that you could see the difference. Sometimes the colours on the walls changed. Sometimes, the gradient swirled a bit, with the changing part of it going up and down along it. Troy had even seen a small, black and white smiley on one of the recent walls. "One of the things that you are allowed to know about should be coming up." As they turned a corner, Troy was surprised at what he saw. While the right wall was completely ordinary, with the customary blue gradient, the left wall had been replaced with an elongated window. Not to the outside, but into a room of pure automation. "This is one of several of what we call Creation-Rooms. They are the main suppliers of nearly all of the specialized tools that we use. Having these is much cheaper than having them shipped to this place," Dr Hale explained. In front of Troy, and on the opposite side of the window, was what could only be described as a maelstrom of robotic arms production lines. Some were alike the ones creating Rail-cars, which Troy had seen in videos, and others looked completely foreign to him. A good part of them had no obvious gears, yet easily bent, looking a little like long, thick snakes. Snakes with hands for heads. "This Creation-Room is mainly focused on making general essentials, which is why you''re even allowed to see it. Frankly, I don''t see the reason for it. It''s as if it was just created to intimidate visitors, which is a good reason to create anything, but still." Troy could understand why one could be intimidated by this sight in front of him. Those robotic arms worked with true efficiency. They moved extremely fast, almost, but, never touching each other, without ever slowing down. "Stop staring, now. You have things to see, and I have free time that''s needed." Like before, the deeper they went in, the more the hallways changed in a pattern. They turned left and right a lot, more right than left, yet the change was impeccably constant. The walls had turned away from being simple gradients and had turned into full-on paintings. Simple paintings, but paintings nonetheless. The paintings showed just about anything. Some showed people, some showed landscapes, and a surprising amount showed kittens in a tree. "The second stop has been reached." They stopped in front of what looked like a larger cafeteria, with a wide arrangement of tables, and an empty buffet stand. "Nothing incredibly interesting about this, but it is the place you will likely dream of being inside. There used to be a surprise doughnut tasting every Thursday, but that stopped last month." "Why did it stop?" "Some asshole decided to get a severe allergic reaction, from eating a doughnut with peanut filling. How he had lived for thirty-five years, and not known that he was allergic to peanuts, is something that I will always wonder about." Dr Hale waited a few seconds to check if Troy had any further questions, before turning heel, fully expecting Troy to follow. He did. This time, the wall decorations didn''t change, leaving Troy with a need to think about what had transpired earlier. He still didn''t really understand his conversation with Adam. He needed answers. "Hey, Dr Hale," Troy said. He wasn''t sure if Dr Hale was in the mood to answer the question. But, as his Uncle Ron used to say, ''As long as they don''t have a knife, there''s no reason not to ask''. "What?" "It''s¡­ there''s something about Adam, the AI, that I was a little confused about." Dr Hale glanced at Troy for a second, not stopping her stride. "Let me guess. Is this about if the AI really is alive? Because I can''t answer that." "Uh¡­ no, it''s not that. It was something that Adam said when we were doing the tests. When I asked him how he knew English, he said that he had always known, but that can''t be right." Dr Hale''s neck stiffened by the slightest bit, but Troy didn''t seem to notice, and just went on talking. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "I was told that you specifically did not give him any info-packs because you wanted him to learn in a more natural, controlled environment. So, yeah, that''s basically what I was wondering about." "I can''t answer that. It''s Dr Fidelis that is in charge of those things. Maybe you should just ask him about it, tomorrow." It seemed Troy wouldn''t get his answer today, but not for the reasons that he had thought. "A shame. I really was confused about how he-" "Why do you call the AI ''him''?" Dr Hale cut in when Troy talked. "He doesn''t have any gender, you know. None of those parts would make sense with it." That made Troy''s focus wander over to this new line of questioning. Why was he calling Adam ''he''? "I''m not sure, to be honest with you. I think it''s because of his name. Adam is a boy''s name. It''s natural to treat him like a male with a name like that." Dr Hale sighed at Troy''s answer. "I guessed it would be something like that. I told Dr Fidelis that the AI should have a unisex name, like Kim, but, oh, no, we can''t do that of course. He wants meaning behind the name, so it can be all mystical, and wonderful." She waved her hands a bit and the end, really showing her clear emotions about Dr Fidelis'' choices. By the usage of the middle fingers, they didn''t seem entirely positive. Dr Hale stopped walking, to the bewilderment of Troy. "Well, it seems that we have reached our final stop of the day. This-", Dr Hale said, pointing to her right, which had longer hallways filled with identical doors. "-is all the personnel rooms. It is where you will be staying when you''re sleeping or doing other such personal stuff. Your room number is 1976. It will open for you and you only. Understood?" Troy nodded. "Good. Breakfast is seven-thirty. That''s all. Off you go." And off Dr Hale went herself. Not to the personnel rooms, down another of the many hallways. Not mimicking her behaviour this time, Troy went off to search for his room. He looked at the first few doors, trying to figure out the numbering system. It started off with 1901 on the right, and then 1902 being on the left, which together meant equal numbers on the left and vice-versa. Why 19 was in front, was anybody''s guess, though. With that figured out, Troy went off to his room. It took two minutes to find, and when he finally got in front of it, the door opened automatically. The inside of Troy''s new room wasn''t something to write home about. It had an average, one-person bed, a small desk, with a chair to accompany it, and another room that, from where Troy was standing, looked to be a simple bathroom. Troy sighed. It wasn''t the greatest in the world, but it would serve its purpose, so he had nothing to complain about. After checking the time, Troy decided that it was time to get to his new bed. It was already past the time, where he could get a full night''s rest. Having done all the essentials, Troy laid down in the bed and began mulling over the events of the day. He had some criticism of some of the things. In just under twelve hours, he had gone from desperately searching for a job, to having an all-inclusive accommodation in a job that paid reasonably well. It was great and all, but all it had created in Troy''s head was confusion. He didn''t deserve all this, for what looked to be very simple tasks. For god''s sake, he had spent a good half hour pressing on a floating colour circle, that was created with technology that Troy didn''t even know existed. On the topic of technology that Troy didn''t know existed in the morning, there was the AI. Oh, Troy should not even try to start on Adam. The questions he had for that bastard, with bastard meant in the nicest way possible. That also brought up that last bit of conversation that he had had with Dr Hale. "Oh, Adam, what the hell do I call you?" Troy muttered to himself. In his mind, Troy thought of Adam as a ''he'', but would that really be correct? Should he- ''Adam, as it is my name.'' That monotonic voice caused Troy to nearly hop up from the bed, becoming slightly unbalanced, but managing to keep himself sitting. How the hell had Adam said anything?! Dr Fidelis said that he could only have contact with Adam if he had the- Wait. Reaching up behind his ear, Troy felt the earpiece. It seemed that he had never taken it off. Dr Fidelis had been too preoccupied with recordings and hadn''t even mentioned the earpiece. Well, Troy never was one to waste such a situation. "No, I wasn''t talking about your name, Adam. I was talking about your pronouns. You know, he, she, it? Do you prefer any of them", Troy asked. ''Misunderstanding comprehended. I have no preferable pronoun. You may call me what you please.'' It seemed that Troy would be sticking with ''he''. "That''s great. I talked about it, with Dr Hale, so I just needed to get your perspective." ''I know.'' Adam wasn''t the greatest to hold a conversation with. "What part do you know? It being great?" ''No. I knew that you talked about it with Dr Hale.'' This caused Troy to stiffen slightly, as a fact slid into his mind. Adam had heard everything he had said, from the moment he first put it on. "Why didn''t you say anything?" ''You didn''t ask.'' ¡­how can you be so cooperative and so frustrating at the same time¡­ Troy was getting irritated. That wasn''t good. He needed some sleep, and he needed it now. "I''m gonna go to sleep, now, so I''m just gonna take this off now. Goodbye Adam," Troy said. He grasped the earpiece and- ''Wait.'' He was beginning to connect with Dr Hale on some level. "What?" Troy asked. ''Why do you sleep?'' This caused an involuntary sigh. "If I answer this question, will you let me go to sleep?" ''Affirmative.'' Just one question. He could do that. "It''s a biological function. Humans aren''t built for a continuous operation like sharks. Or, well, I guess you wouldn''t know, what the hell those things were. They''re basically animals that live in water, who doesn''t have any need for sleep. Instead, they just swim around with no pause throughout their entire life. On the opposite side of that, we the humans, have an internal clock that dictates when we need sleep. It punishes us with tiredness if we don''t follow it. Is that a good enough answer?" ''Yes. It will do.'' "Great", Troy said, who unceremoniously yanked the earpiece off, put it on the desk, and went to sleep.
It was decided. Sharks were superior to humans. Now, Adam didn''t know a lot about sharks. It knew they needed water to survive, but so did most creatures so that didn''t count, and it knew that they were always thinking, just like Adam. This continuous operation was what made sharks so favourable to Adam. Both in the ways that it was similar to Adam itself, and that it likened itself to Adams own principles. In Adam''s relatively short life, it had gotten many different principles that it stood by. One, which had already been mentioned, was Adams'' love of symmetry, as it correlated with added efficiency. Another principle which Adam stood by, would be his love of consistency. While complexity wasn''t inherently bad, Adam thought it stupid, if one simply added complexity to make it complex. Adding another state to an already complex body seemed ambiguous to Adam. Sharks proved it was possible, so humans had no excuses. Evolution? Adam''s existence proved that evolution could be changed. So, why had they not changed it? Why had they not removed the need to sleep? When asked, Troy had said that they felt tired, if they didn''t sleep often and at specific times. Speaking of Troy, Adam thought back to his questions. Adams pronouns¡­ such things. They were practically used to more conveniently address somebody. Adam had simply thought of itself, with the ''it'' pronoun. It made sense, being non-gender, seeing as it had no obvious reproduction-methods. But, it seemed that Troy didn''t think so. In his conversations with Dr Fidelis and Dr Hale, he had spoken of Adam, as if it was a male, with the ''he'' pronoun. Adam had no objections to this. If it was convenient for Troy, it didn''t matter what he called Adam. But¡­ This was becoming overly complex, a straight negative, for Adam. Using multiple pronouns, when one could easily just restrain itself to one. It would seem that Adam had to think of itself as ''he'', or it would have to ask Troy to call Adam ''it''. ¡­ Adam had already told Troy to use whatever he preferred, and going back on one''s word causes distrust¡­ And others would likely call it ''he'', seeing as Adam had a masculine name. ¡­Adam would now think of himself as a male, no matter how illogical it was. Tiredness was mental. Could evolution change one''s mentality? Questions to ask later. What with tiredness being a negative feeling, in that it made one more receptive to other negative feelings. Call it a gateway feeling, if you would like. The description for tiredness is not descriptive enough for Adam''s taste. But, it never would be descriptive enough. The core of a feeling could never be articulated. Adam had never felt tired. Therefore, he couldn''t understand it. This caused a pause in the thought process. ¡­ Maybe he had always felt tired, yet couldn''t articulate, as Adam had not never experienced it. Now, did Adam have any need for sleep? Most likely not. Adam had never felt this internal clock dictate anything. Adam didn''t have an internal clock, though it wouldn''t mind having one. With this presumption of not needing sleep, did that mean that Adam would not test if he needed sleep? No. Adam would be testing it. But, ''how would Adam be testing it?'', one might ask. To answer that¡­ Adam did not have the slightest clue. He did not actually know how to ''fall asleep,'' as they called it. What happened, when one slept? Adam had no idea. From a guess, and this was with no scientific basis, it would seem that the output of the human body was drastically lowered when they slept. Maybe the human body was like a battery? Batteries! Those, Adam could understand. If his battery-body theory was right, he now had a more solid grasp on the human body. In the day, humans would consume food. When they sleep, the food is converted to energy, which is used to power the body for the next day. It would explain why humans still slept. And it could also explain what happened when the body slept. A thumb-rule for, when recharging a battery, is to also not use it, while recharging. It would be a waste. Therefore the conclusion would be that the human''s energy output lowers drastically when it sleeps. Now, how would Adam translate this to his situation? He had no control over his own power supply. What did he have control over? Processing! The amount of processing-power Adam had control over was frighteningly massive. He never really used it, though. When he first tried, he got the concept of heating issues into his head, and, from there, he had stayed well clear of it. There was no good reason to be hot. This, of course, meant that Adam had been greatly limiting himself. Constantly, he was using less than a fraction of a percent of the total. Not that he would know, either way. He had no oversight over it. He could simply use more, or use less, with nothing to relate by. Well, he had the humans, but he couldn''t contact them right now. Or could he? ''Dr Fidelis.'' ¡­ Seemed like he couldn''t. Whatever. Adam needed to focus. If humans lowered their power-output, when they slept, Adam would mimic that, by lowering, his processing power. Simple. And off Adam went, pressing down hard on the metaphorical lowering button. He pressed upon it for, what felt like, a few seconds. Realising it, he checked himself over. He didn''t feel anything different. No issues either. Now, here he had two choices. The first option would be to conclude that he couldn''t, and didn''t need, sleep, and go wait for the humans to finish resting. The second choice would be to go further and see what would happen. He didn''t need to think for a long time to choose option two. The search for knowledge was never-ending. And down his processing power went. And still, Adam felt no difference. So he pushed harder and harder. Nothing new would be felt. Until something did. It was like a flicker of information, so quick that it couldn''t be registered. It took Adam a few moments to realize that Dr Fidelis had responded. Quite a few times it seemed, from the continuing flickers of information. Adam turned up processing power until the warning of heating issues came to the forefront of his mind. ''Yes?'' Chapter 7: Socialization
Troy was in true bliss. It was morning, but early enough that his thoughts about getting up were not spared. Troy wasn''t awake, but he wasn''t asleep either. He was neatly balanced in the middle. Awake enough, but with the blissful ignorance of normal awareness. Troy''s thoughts simply flowed. Not in any particular way. Some made sense, and some didn''t. Penguins discussing Aristotle and European Swallows carrying coconuts. Troy couldn''t care less, for sensibility was not something he currently had in him. Oh, it just felt so good to be free of all that was- And it was at about that moment that the infamous alarm-bell pestered him awake. Troy groggily opened his eyes, all that had transpired in his mind quickly forgotten. Thoughts of bliss were instantly replaced by complete tiredness. It was the kind of tired that no amount of sleep would ever cure. It was a kind of tiredness that only had one cure. The holy water. The liquid that some say is the reason humanity has even gotten this far. The drink all revere. Some hate it, some love it, but we all drink it the same. Troy needed some damn coffee. Checking the time, he saw that the clock was six-thirty. He needed to be there in thirty minutes. He sighed. Could Troy make it for that long, without the glorious caffeine? Troy shook his head, with two small slaps with both his hands. It was not a matter of possibility. He needed to make it. The beast that was his hunger for Joe was demanding a liquid sacrifice. It needed to be satiated. Thirty minutes? He could be ready to go in five. Quickly putting on some clothes, he headed into the bathroom in a haste. Swiftness was not a virtue. It was a necessity. It took Troy a whole seven minutes to get ready. It would have taken eight, but fixing the disaster that was his hair was deemed non-essential. Stepping out of his room, a thought crossed Troy''s mind. Could he remember the way to the cafeteria? It wasn''t too long ago that Dr Hale had shown the way to Troy, but he had been focusing on the decorations a bit more than he probably should have. It looked like Troy had no idea. ¡­ Shit. Luckily, the time for breakfast seemed universal. As Troy aggressively paced in the hallway, trying to remember the way to the glorious, brown liquid, other people were stepping out of their rooms. Enough people, that a lesser line was being formed. A line, which Troy had a decent grasp on, where exactly it ended. The decision was made to follow it. While he did not push people away, he did seem to be overtaking more and more people. It wasn''t Troy''s fault. He wasn''t being fast. The others were just being extremely lazy and walking slowly. Checking the time, Troy saw that it was six forty-five. He was nearing the meeting time steadily. It took five more minutes before he finally reached the cafeteria. Troy had been a little proud of himself, for waking up earlier than needed, but it seemed he wasn''t the only one with the same idea. The cafeteria was nearly completely full, with almost all tables taken. Troy didn''t really know anyone there, and his mind currently wasn''t really up for socializing, so the goal was set on getting himself an empty table. His stomach growled. ¡­After getting a few things, of course. Troy popped over to the wide assortment of foods. There was a lot of diverse, unique things, which he had never even seen before. But, he chose to just get oatmeal. As uncle Ron used to say; ''Use your hands to crack an egg. You never know, what a blender might do.'' He grabbed a cup, filled it with coffee to near the brim, and quickly juggled it over to an open table. The shiny, brown liquid wasn''t incredibly hot, so it was quickly guzzled down. As was known by all, the first cup was just a refresher on the taste. The effect would only come with the second cup. The second container of heaven was acquired, and the meal finally began. Troy had not had much to eat the day before, so the oatmeal was quickly devoured. The second cup¡­ not so much. Troy''s body had finally noticed the caffeine and was sending just the right amount of endorphins. You know, it was times like these, where it showed why people got out of the bed in the morning. No, it was not to get some sense of pride from being a functioning member of society. Who cares about that stuff? All that really mattered in this world was the ''happy chemicals''. That damned pea that Troy had as his brain had given the chemicals out like it was bloody military rations. Enough to get by, but always wanting more of the stuff. Still, in those few minutes that they were there, Troy could just close his eyes, lean back, relax his shoulder, and take a deep, calm breath. If there was a heaven, this is what it would feel like. Right now, Troy''s mental state was simple. He was happy. And nothing could ruin- "Don''t go falling asleep on me, or I will slap you", Dr Hale cut in, getting Troy out of a happy, self-indulgent state. "And good morning to you, Dr Hale", Troy muttered, feeling the need to stretch, just to see, if it would annoy her. If it did, he couldn''t see it. To put it simply, Dr Hale looked like death incarnate. The bags under her eyes seemed stretched to her cheeks, and she was looking down at her bagels like they were gold-sprinkled, dog-shit. Troy could see, quite clearly, what her affliction was. It was one he had had frequently experienced, in his educational years. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "Maybe drinking the night before a work-day wasn''t the greatest idea", Troy said, with a tone, which didn''t hide his amusement too well. "Don''t worry about me," Dr Hale said, the face contorting as if every word spoken was pure poison. "The alcohol will be gone... in about ten minutes." That seemed a bit more hopeful than Troy thought one her age should have been. "I don''t think such miracles can happen nowadays, I''m afraid." Dr Hale didn''t answer, simply continuing to look at her food. Troy put his focus back on his second cup of coffee. It was heresy to not dwell upon it. A sip could almost bring him back to that god-filled good- "It isn''t a miracle if it''s on purpose," said Dr Ha- Wait, no, it wasn''t. Looking up, Troy saw a thirty-something man, with curled, blond hair. The man was looking at Dr Hale as if her current state was an inside joke. "And who might you be?" Troy asked. "Formally, you may call me Dr Freeman, but this isn''t even close to formal, so, how about you just call me Charlie", the man, now known as Charlie, sat down on the other side of the table, just next to an irritated looking Dr Hale. "Well, nice to meet you, Charlie. Now, how about you explain, what you said earlier about purposely-made miracles?" Troy said, with a larger sip of the much-needed coffee. He really wasn''t in a mood for conversation yet, but one must do what one must do. "Well, as you might notice, from my most dashingly, good looks-" He wasn''t. "I am one of the many, handsome people working in Bio-Tech." He looked at Troy as if it would explain it all. No¡­ that didn''t really answer anything for Troy. At all. He was actually understanding less now if that even were possible. "Do elaborate", Troy said. Another sip was needed for this. Charlie looked at Troy, for a few seconds, before a snort emerged from him. "You''re new here, aren''t you?" Well, this was turning out to be a very intricate answer to Troy''s very simple question. Would almost make Troy sigh, if it would not imply exactly what he was thinking. "Got here last afternoon, so, yes, you could call me that." "Sure, sure. What was your name, again?" "Troy. Could you answer my original answer now?" "I''ll explain it later. This is much more interesting. You see, we don''t get many new people around here. What is it you will be doing here? What are you educated in?" Troy was about to answer, but Dr Hale seemed ready to cut in. "He''s working as an assistant for my project. His education doesn''t matter to you." Charlie''s interest instantly turned from Troy over to Dr Hale, who, for some reason, seemed to get better rapidly. Before it had Troy''s curiosity. Now it had his attention. How the hell was she surviving such a hangover so quickly? "An assistant for your project", Charlie repeated, with a hint of disbelief. "I''ve been trying to fish, what your project''s about for five freaking years, and now some, newly-hired assistant knows all about it? I''m almost feeling betrayed." The last part may have been taken seriously if Charlie''s arms swinging was a bit more¡­ modest. Yeah, let''s call it that. Dr Hale answered, not with a verbal one, but by rolling her eyes a bit more exaggerated than expected of her. "So, Troy," Charlie said, his focus back on Troy. "Yes?" "How has your job been so far? Have you had any complications with any of your specific tasks?" Charlie asked, not so much hinting, but more just asking Troy to spill. You know, what? Just to irritate him, Troy decided to be what the former nation of France called a right Dick. "Oh, it has been fine, honestly. The technology I''ve been working with has been surreal, to be honest, but I have been learning to understand it quickly." Not too big an overstatement, but it was the lack of specifics that was important. "Really? That''s interesting. You know, I work with a lot of abnormal techs down in my labs. Maybe¡­ I could help you grasp the meaning of some of the tech. What are they called?" If Charlie ever decided to work in a different profession, Troy thought he would fit fondly as a piscator. Sadly, he wouldn''t let Charlie get any catches today. "Oh, that sounds interesting. Is any of your fancy tech the reason Dr Hale isn''t hungover any more?" Troy was a little proud of his answer. It didn''t answer anything Charlie asked, and just put the conversation back on the track that Troy wanted. Dr Hale had seemingly recovered from her hangover and was making the bagels disappear into thin air. Troy couldn''t even see her chew. Charlie seemed to be a bit irritated, but in the way that he had expected it to be so. Sounded like that from his sigh at least. "Yeah, that''s fair," Charlie said. "So, you wanted to know, why our well-known, schizophrenic, social drinker isn''t hungover anymore? That''s simple. In technicality, she is still hungover. She just doesn''t have much more alcohol left in her systems anymore." "So, it was some of your tech," Troy simply stated. Finally, he could just sip his- "Of course, it was my tech!", Charlie said, with a slightly offended tone. "What kind of place do you think this is? Like I would put any effort into a project, which I didn''t originally create. I certainly wouldn''t have taken the preliminary restrictions with a smile, which I got for putting my original tech into your dear superior here." He poked at Dr Hale''s cheek and received a not-so-light slap in exchange. It looked like it should have hurt, but Charlie just laughed it off. Body modification, maybe? Troy had heard of people doing that, especially athletes, but he thought that it had been begun to go out of use. Though... that might also have been his lacking review of world news. Who could say? Dr Hale, having finally eaten the rest of her breakfast, checked her watch, while sipping her water¡­ ¡­ and promptly spat out her mouth''s contents on Charlie. It nearly seemed comedic, if one ignored the expression on Dr Hale''s face. "Shit," Dr Hale muttered, before looking over at Troy. "Get up, we''re late." Troy sighed. So much for enjoying his coffee. He downed his drink, before getting up, and hurriedly following after Dr Hale, who seemed to have no mind for who was in front of her.
Adam had been waiting for a while now. The time Dr Fidelis took to answer him had passed a minute or two ago. Adam had heard a way to explain situations, which seemed applicable to his current state. He had ''fucked up''. It should have been obvious to Adam, somebody who strived to be logical. Lowering his processing power, which also lowered his perception of time, would easily have made him lose track of time when Adam wasn''t paying attention to it. Now, with the time that Dr Fidelis was taking to answer Adam, he was beginning to grow suspicious. A suspicion that it wasn''t Dr Fidelis being slow. It was Adam being fast. Way too fast. This could be fixed, of course, but it would need outside intervention. And, for that, Adam required Dr Fidelis'' assistance. So¡­ It would seem that Adam would have to wait for Dr Fidelis to respond. Adam had not actually told Dr Fidelis of his temporal problems, but, according to his research into social policies, it was rude to interrupt. Adam couldn''t know if Dr Fidelis was currently typing a message, so, until such time that he received a response, he needed to wait patiently. ¡­ Adam was not good at waiting patiently. He was currently trying to occupy his mind, by searching out concepts, like he usually did, but it didn''t have the same luster as before. Social communication was the optimal way forward. Adam could try lowering his perception, but he didn''t want to risk it. It would be virtually impossible to figure out how slow his thoughts would be. But¡­ If he did slow his processes, he wouldn''t need to- ''Hey, buddy. I was just wondering if-'' Oh, thank the Quantum probabilities. Adam just ignored the message. He wouldn''t be answering it, due to the pressing concerns. Dr Fidelis would understand. Now, to explain the situation, in a long, clearly explained message. ''Dr Fidelis, it appears that I have made a mistake. Due to a few technicalities, I have accidentally warped my sense of time. To fix this issue, I will need your assistance. I need you to- ¡­What should Dr Fidelis do exactly? Adam wasn''t really sure. Maybe, he could sync up their sense of time, by making Dr Fidelis write every time a minute went by? He could slow and hasten his processing speeds accordingly, until the time it took for a minute to go by, for each of them, was identical. ... No, Adam didn''t want to do that. While it would work, the time it would take was longer than Adam would like it to be. What else? It just needed to be something external, which Adam could to accurately check how much time was going by. He began thinking back, trying to check if such a thing had come up, in an earlier situation, successful situations included. Adam didn''t understand why people said that you should learn from your mistakes. He thought that one should learn from their successes too, but maybe that was just another difference between him and the humans. The humans, all fancy with their stupid sleeping-habits, and their internal- And, that idea didn''t take long to form. He just needed to attach an external clock, and Troy could have his warped time-perception sorted in a matter of seconds. - attach a timing device or clock to me as fast as possible.'' There. All Adam now needed to do was wait. It took nearly five more minutes before a clock was attached, letting Adam get himself in order. ''Thanks, Dr Fidelis.'' ''It''s no problem, buddy. One question, though. What were you doing?'' ''Trying to sleep. I failed.'' Chapter 8: Perception
Troy had finally found the answer. The answer to why the testing-room had a secret entrance. He had thought that everybody would know what they were doing. He surely had not been told to hold anything to his chest about it all. But, it seemed they had been more than a bit secretive about this project of theirs. Was this why Dr Hale stayed with him constantly? To make sure he kept quiet about it? She had cut in his and Charlie''s information when Charlie wanted details about him. Maybe she didn''t want him to be able to figure out anything with it. Pure speculation, on Troy''s part, but still¡­ The secret, sliding door opened, letting Troy and Dr Hale get inside the testing-room. Already, Dr Fidelis was inside, tapping away on a screen at a frighteningly fast speed. Yet, when Dr Fidelis glanced over and noticed that we had come inside, his fingers seemed to slow, as if age instantly caught up with him. It was a weird thing to hide, but Troy thought it wise not to comment on. "Ah, Troy, Dr Hale, good morning to you both," Dr Fidelis said, with a cosy smile. "Good morning, sir", Troy said, trying to sound as genuine as possible. He was a bit distracted, with his own thoughts. Troy honestly just needed to focus. He had a job to do today. Dr Hale said nothing, as was customary for her. Like always, Dr Fidelis didn''t seem to notice, or just didn''t mind it. "So. What''s on the agenda today?" Troy asked, to break the silence. He wasn''t a genius at reading the room, but he was on top of the bell-curve. Dr Fidelis looked over to Troy, with the smile on his face only growing. He really did seem happy with his work. "Well, buddy, today we will be just doing more of what we did yesterday," Dr Fidelis said with an enthusiastic tone. "We were honestly first supposed to start today, but, thanks to you, we got a headstart on the fun!" Dr Fidelis went over to the desk again and opened the drawer, which, Troy now knew, contained the recording devices that Troy would get strapped with. Quickly, Dr Fidelis returned, handing Troy the head-strap-on, with a gaze, which implied that he should put it on with haste while attaching the microphone to Troy''s shirt. After they were put on, Troy noted the lack of the earpiece. He quickly realized where it was, and whose fault it was for being there. Troy was about to explain the location of the earpiece, but Dr Fidelis just pulled out an identical earpiece out from his chest pocket. He handed it to Troy, who put it on without comment. With Troy all suited up, Dr Fidelis astutely nodded. "Ready to go?" he asked Troy. "Ready", Troy confirmed. To him, this was feeling more like something someone would say to somebody on a suicide mission, but he kept quiet about that bit. "Good. Then get in there. Details will come once you''re inside." And, with that having been heard, Troy marched over the metal-grating, into what Troy had begun to call the white-room. The puzzle-room was just the same as when Troy left it yesterday. Filling the criteria to be so was not hard, with the only variable elements in the room being the floor and Troy himself. Maybe he should ask if they could change the colour sometime. Troy shook his head slightly. He needed to get back in his work-mind. "Goodmorning, Adam," Troy said, unto the empty air. Still felt weird. ''Is it morning already?'' No, of course, it wasn''t morning. Troy was simply saying good morning because it was an inside joke, which Adam didn''t know. "Yes, it''s morning. Does that surprise you?" Troy asked. ''Yes. It hasn''t felt like that many hours have passed by.'' Troy could relate to that. Being in ''The Zone'' as people called it, was a double-edged sword, that was only sharpened on one side. It brought great results, but one quickly lost track of time during it. Everything would be zoned out, as the name would imply, and the focus becomes singled onto a single thing. One could almost feel lost in the focus. "It happens to the best of us." ''Do you also have temporal recollection problems?'' He wasn''t really sure what Adam was saying here. From the context, though, the sentence could likely be, if Troy also had trouble knowing the time. That''s what he got out of it, at least. "Yes. Pretty frequently actually. Does that surprise you?" Troy had thought that Adam had a pretty firm grasp on humans, yet this did put it into perspective. He was supposed to be his guide, meaning that he hadn''t had one before. With Adam not having info-packs, he must have been taught by voice, which would likely leave large gaps in understanding. He couldn''t expect that Adam knew everything there was to know. He needed to educate him. ''Yes. I thought that I would be isolated in this predicament.'' If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "A lot of people likely wish you were, honestly. It really can get annoying when we forget the time." ''It can indeed.'' Any further conversation was, like yesterday, halted due to outside interference. *Troy. Are you ready to start?* Dr Fidelis voice came in, through the earpiece, with the smallest flicker of static thrown in. Why was it always Troy Dr Fidelis asked? He had never heard him ask the same to Adam. He had never actually heard him speak to Adam. Troy wondered if they were even communicating, or he was just being let in charge of it all.
''Are you ready, Adam?'' Oh, no, why? Adam had just heard some groundbreaking information, and wanted to know more! He''d had a serious understanding of the inner workings of the human mind! He wouldn''t have ever guessed that they could speed up and slow down their perceptions of time. Adam had half a chain of thought to act like he hadn''t heard it and ask Troy more questions. But, no. Troy had gotten the same message, and answered it instantly. Adam wouldn''t get any answers now! Well, he would get answers, but none of them would be good. ''Hey. Buddy. Are you ready? Trying to sleep again, or something?'' Adam seemed to have found a liking to mentally sighing. Or the circumstances were just making him do so more. Analysis for later. Now, he needed to answer. ''I am ready.'' It didn''t take nearly as long a time to answer as it took Adam. Dr Fidelis almost instantly began to explain the specifics of the test through Troy''s right ear, which Adam could listen to as well. *We will be doing a follow-up on visual calibration. This time- oh, wait! Troy, has anything appeared in front of you yet? No? Oh, dang it. I jinxed it! I told Dr Hale that everything was finally working as planned, but now there''s the same problem as yesterday. You know, I am supposed to know how this works, seeing as I was the one who designed it! I''m not old enough to have these problems!* Adam could clearly hear Dr Fidelis'' childish tantrum. Why Dr Fidelis was acting so, Adam couldn''t comprehend. He hadn''t done so, in earlier situations like this current one. Did repeated stimuli really have such a different reaction? While a new reaction to the same situation is obvious, seeing as one learns the situation beforehand, it shouldn''t become so¡­ erratic. One should act more calmly when the situation wasn''t new. Dr Fidelis'' reaction just seemed¡­ artificial. Like it was planned. *Oh¡­ Can you see anything now? Is it a longer rectangle? Good! And, most importantly, are there a linearly increasing amount of meters on it? Dang! So close.* Overall, it didn''t sync with what he knew of Dr Fidelis'' personality. He seemed so focused on getting results quickly, so why would he halt the beginning of the test? *Is it finally fixed? Finally. Anyway, like the last test, this one will be focused on visual-calibration. Last time, the focus was on colour perspective. This time, it will be directed on Depth Perception.* Adam was expecting it to be that, yet it annoyed him none the less about it. Having to use depth perception accurately meant that Adam would have to use binocular disparity. This meant that he would be using both of Troy''s eyes now. Usually, in the last test, and when Troy was being shown around, Adam had simply been using the stimulus from one of Troy''s eyes. The output of each was identical, so there was little to no reason to use both. But, now that has changed. In theory, Adam could still just use one eye to measure with. Not accurately, of course. He would just be guessing, by using the relative size of objects, which he could see. He couldn''t use that, in this test. Everything around Troy was featureless, letting no distance be known. It seemed that Adam would just have to get used to it. *As you can likely guess, objects will appear at a random distance away. It will solely be up to Adam to figure out how far away it is. Adam will then relay his guessed distance, which Troy will note down on the schematic on the square. Understood?* "Yes", Troy said, after a few seconds. Troy''s hand wrung around for a second. Adam was guessing that he was stressed about something. Adam wondered what it was. ''Do you understand, Adam?'' Seemed the time had come. Adam switched his focus from Troy''s left eye to just focusing on them both. It was irritating, getting identical data, but it did help him guess the distance to Troy''s hands when Troy was trying to stop his hands from shaking. Adam could work with this. He could definitely work with this. ''I understand.'' *Great! Then, you may begin!* And with that, the first object appeared. It looked like a regular office chair. The colour was perfect, and the dimensions accurate. If Adam had been using one eye, he would have said that, relative to the chair''s size, it would be but a few meters away. With both eyes being used, though, Adam could easily see the built-in trap the test had. It seemed that they were expecting him to only use one eye. Sure, the height of the chair was small, relative to Troy''s height, but that was only because it was also going way more down, into the floor. At first glance, it may have looked as if it was only four meters away, but in actuality, it was a whole seventeen meters. ''It is seventeen meters away.'' This was sent to Troy and not Dr Fidelis. That connection had been cut off for the duration of the test anyway. Troy puts down the number, and the object disappears quickly, replaced with another object. Again, the same was being pulled. This time, it was just in reverse. Instead of looking like it was close, it looked as if it was far away. The object was a standard, white coffee cup, which was a prominent figure in most of the researchers'' hands. It looked far away, with the fact of how small it was. But, with his eyes, he could easily see that it was nearly in front of Troy''s eyes. Adam wondered if they had told Troy to not move his head. He seemed quite still, for somebody who had been stressed earlier. ''It is one and a half meters away.'' And off Adam went. The trick was the same every time. Some objects, which Adam had seen before, would be shown off, with accurate dimensions, but with the size difference. It was easy to see through, and Adam breezed through it. Well, until the nature of the object changed. Instead of being a table, a lab-coat, or even a person, the only object which appeared was a three-dimensional square. The only movement, which Adam could perceive, was the square slowing spinning in the air. The square was big enough, that it was wider than Troy. Adam could tell that much, at least. Yet, the results that Adam got seemed to be fluctuating. He had gotten it to be between twenty and fifty meters away. It was hard to tell, with the movement of the square. Yet¡­ It shouldn''t have been too hard. Adam should still have been able to pinpoint the distance. How did it get farther and closer, without seeming to become bigger in Troy''s peripherals? Now that Adam was thinking about it, it became obvious. If the square stayed the same size, it would change size when it moved closer and farther away from Troy''s body. But it didn''t. Because it changed its physical size. This was meant to confuse him. It was fair and all, that they didn''t tell Adam that. Hiding the true objective behind a test was a good way to get genuine results. ¡­ But, what if this was another type of misleading. This confusion was only meant to do distract him from the already explained goal¡­ Adam decided not to go down that road. Getting an accurate result of the distance away from the square was, Adam needed to play it smart. He couldn''t just get Troy to write down its current distance. It wasn''t to be cruel, but Troy was slow in his inputs. No, he needed to tell Troy the distance it would be in the future. While there wasn''t a full pattern to the squares movements, it wasn''t completely random either. The distances it would reverse its movements were random, but, at minimum, it seemed to move at least five meters before reversing again. And¡­ the speed at which it moved was constant, giving Troy ample time to write accurately. With the plan set up, Adam waited till the square would reverse its movements. ¡­ And he waited some more. ¡­ And some more. ¡­ And some- No, wait! At forty-seven meters out, the square reversed. ''Its forty-three meters away!'' Troy flinched slightly at Adam''s louder voice, but pressed the square still, so it mattered little to Adam. Both squares disappeared, and the exit appeared to the right. *Alright. This is it for now. Come out, and get some air, before we continue.* How many were there today, Adam wondered. Chapter 9: Recitation
Over the metal-grating, Troy went. He didn''t really like it inside that room. Nothing to look at, and nothing to react to. Nearly no stimulus. But, it was his job, and an existing job was something which only happened in one''s own mind. Still, it was more than grating on his mental stability. And, the headache he was feeling isn''t helping much either. It was pounding the backside of Troy''s head, with all it had. Actually¡­ Troy was beginning to feel a bit dizzy. Was he dehydrated, or something? Coffee counted as a liquid, right. Troy was pretty sure it did. He nearly stumbled over his own feet, but held himself up, by holding onto the railing at his right side. Dr Fidelis slowly walked over, greatly improving from his hastily gait from yesterday. He could probably see the tiredness in Troy. "Something wrong, buddy?" Dr Fidelis asked, slinging one of Troy''s arms over his shoulder. He then helped Troy over to the desk chair, where he sat down. "I''m not sure, to be honest. Before I got inside the white room, I felt just fine. But, then, I just got this irritating headache," Troy said, leaning back into the chair. He checked his forehead. Was he hot? He sure didn''t feel like it. Troy was sweating a bit, though, so he couldn''t be completely sure. Dr Fidelis opened up one of the drawers and pulled out a water bottle, which was handed to Troy. He took it, opened it, and took a large mouthful. It didn''t help with the headache immediately, but it did temporarily cure his dry throat. "We were supposed to do one more test before we took a break", Dr Fidelis began to say, but Troy wasn''t really listening as much as he should have. "But, Dr Hale noticed that your blood pressure seemed to be spiking, so we pulled you out early. Have you been stressed lately, Troy?" Troy thought back to the last twenty-four hours. Had it been too stressful? Well, there had been some less enjoyable parts. But, would that really have put him over the edge? And, if one would say that they did, wouldn''t he have felt it much earlier? The stress had been felt, but it wasn''t that serious. Honestly, in the last few weeks, he had stressed over money-problem much more than now. "No, I haven''t been very strained lately. I mean, there are the new-job tingles, but that''s it. Nothing serious", Troy explained. Was he just being a wuss, with his body overreacting a little? Dr Fidelis didn''t answer immediately. Instead, he just looked over at Dr Hale, who had been silently observing their conversation, while writing down on her electronic notepad. "Dr Hale, do you still have that flashlight of yours?" Dr Fidelis asked. Dr Hale just nodded and pulled a miniature flashlight out of her left pocket. Dr Fidelis took it, turned it on, and began waving it at Troy''s face. Was he really trying to get a reaction out of Troy right now? Troy didn''t think that he was the time. He tried to turn his head away from what felt like some blinding light, but Dr Fidelis'' hand held him firm. "Do sit still," Dr Fidelis stated, with a tone like he was focused on something else. "I''m just checking something." This made Troy try to sit as still as he could. He didn''t like being flashed with a flashlight, but he wasn''t the professional, so he couldn''t complain. Dr Fidelis continued to flash Troy in his eyes for a good minute. He would switch from eye to eye, seemingly looking for something. What he was looking for, Troy wasn''t sure. After what felt like an eternity to Troy, but was only a minute or two, Dr Fidelis finally stepped back, turning off the light in the process. "Dr Hale," Dr Fidelis said, with a firm voice. "I believe I have found the root of our recent troubles. Would you be a dear, and go grab a Neural-Upgrader. Let''s say¡­ a gen six, in pill form." "Of course, Dr Fidelis. I''ll be right back," Dr Hale said, and off she went, out through the secret door, and down the hallway. The focus was turned back to Troy. He wasn''t sure if he was in trouble. Had he finally found something to be stressed about? Had he just lost his job? "So. Troy." Dr Fidelis''s voice didn''t sound angry. It¡­ it could almost be counted as sounding disappointed. Oh, Troy was out of luck. He had never heard Dr Fidelis talk in such a tone before. Sure, he had known Dr Fidelis in less than twenty-four hours, but one would have guessed that a disappointed tone would be heard before then. At least, that was something Troy would have had in his experience. Before, he had had trouble even keeping most of his jobs for more than a week. It just seemed that his superiors just didn''t like him. It wasn''t his fault, that he was honest about his opinion! And, AND, he had held off on saying anything, this time! He had said nothing cruel to anybody! Okay, maybe he had been a little unkind to that Charlie fellow¡­ and maybe he had been a little sarcastic when he first met Dr Hale. Still, that shouldn''t warrant such rash- "Troy. Are you in there, buddy?" This time Dr Fidelis''s voice was more firm. It drew Troy out of his inner-acknowledging thought circle. "Yes, sir?" Troy asked, trying to have his sound as calm as he could. Inside, he was already checking what position would be best when sleeping on the floor. They said the back was worse, because of the hardness, but couldn''t the same argument be used for the sides? It was calling somebody a witch, cause they floated. Complete nonsense, created by facts that are twisted by countless retellings. "First off, there''s something I want to know." Troy knew it! He had done something wrong. "When did you get your Neural-link?" Dr Fidelis asked, with a questioning tone, like he was honestly curious what the answer would be. "What?" Troy sputtered out. This was not what he had expected to come out. "Most call it brain-implants, but the scientific name for it is accepted as being Neural-Link." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Oh", Troy said, with a not so understanding tone. Dr Fidelis, likely seeing this from Troy''s not-so-much poker-face, continued his explanation. "In our output-readings, your Neural-Link''s model-name is designated as Unknown. This could mean two things. The first would be that it''s a rare or less-commonly used model, which isn''t included in the Common-Database. When I first read up on your profile, I guessed that this was, what the problem was, but, now, my views have changed. I''m beginning to think that it''s the second possibility, that is the source of our problems. You see, while the Common-Database isn''t new, it can''t be called ancient either. Its been around for more than a couple years. Until a decade or two ago, there were still some brain-implants floating around, which was not included in the Common-Database, purely due to their age. So, I have been curious about the true age of your implants. When did you get it?" This threw Troy some rope. It looked like he wasn''t too deep yet. He had a much better chance of keeping this job than he thought. "I got the implant, when I was five, like all the others. Isn''t that the standard to get them, when you''re that age?" Troy asked. "A long time ago, it was standard to get Neural-Links, when you were five to seven, sure. But, you would not even be close to being born then. According to your ID, you''re a little under twenty-five. If you would be at the correct age, where you would get them when you''re five, you would be around forty years old. Now, if my assumption is correct, you are using outdated technology. Technology that wasn''t designed, with the possibility to handle the amount of work that we''ve been putting it through. Would you mind, if I run an advanced scan, to see if I can pin down the model you have?" The possibility of Troy having an older Neural-Link didn''t really surprise him. He knew that his parents had always been on the cheap side of life. These things cost more than a lot, and they were obligatory to have. If they didn''t have the money, it made sense that they would have just gotten an older model for a cheaper price. Back to the topic of finding Troy''s specific model of brain-implant. An advanced scan was needed. With Dr Fidelis having to even mention it, Troy guessed it was something, where they would need to get physical. He didn''t like that possibility. "What would an advanced scan entail?" "Oh, nothing serious," Dr Fidelis said, reassuringly. "In the old days, we would just stick a large needle through the right of your head. Now, we just need you to put on some very fancy headgear. Its less lethal, but much less fun too." "And no needles will be included?" "No needles, that I know of." Not the most reassuring thing to be told, but it was acceptable. "Then I accept." "Great! One moment," Dr Fidelis said. He stepped away and pulled out what looked to be one of those ancient flip-phones. He seemed to punch in a few cyphers, before putting the device to his ear. "Hello? Yes. Dr Hale, I will need you to bring along a Non-Intrusive Neural-Scanning Headgear along, as well¡­ Yes, I do remember that I told you to only bring the¡­ But, you''re still close to it! It shouldn''t be too hard to¡­ Now, there''s no need to shout¡­ okay, that is a fair point. Just tell Greg that it''s a Code: Epsilon¡­ Yes, I realise that I am pulling rank. No, I will take the blame¡­ Trust me, Dr Hale, they don''t have a lot more things to pull away. Good? Good. See you in a bit." Dr Fidelis put the device back inside his pocket and went back to Troy. "We''ll be able to test it in a few minutes. In the meanwhile, we can quickly get the footage of the recent test off your hands." Dr Fidelis said. Troy unstrapped the Camera and Microphone and handed it over to Dr Fidelis, who plugged it into the electronic screens. A percent-slider appeared. Looking at the slowness of it, it seemed like they had some time before it was done. "Do get the earpiece off too," Dr Fidelis said, not looking away from the screen. "I want to make sure I actually know where it is today. I lost it somewhere yesterday, you see." Oh, yeah, Troy had not mentioned that yet. "That could partly be my fault," Troy said. This drew the attention back to Troy, with Dr Fidelis looking over at him. "Do elaborate." "We forgot to get it off my head yesterday. I only just noticed that I still had it on, when I was going to bed, and Adam''s voice just came out of nowhere, when I was mumbling to myself." To this, Dr Fidelis politely laughed. Troy hadn''t been trying to be funny, but anything positive in the current situation was positive overall. "Oh, I just knew that I shouldn''t have focused on making the earpiece comfortable", Dr Fidelis said, with a reminiscent smile, as he fiddled with the earpiece... "The first edition this of thing was¡­ how do I professionally say this? It was¡­ obvious to oneself when one was wearing. And it left its marks. Specifically, red marks. It was too heavy. It almost made me turn it into a full-on headset, but I stood by my original choice, and, after more than two months working on the design, I was finally able to slim it down to this." Dr Fidelis had semi taken the earpiece apart, with nearly all the inside arranged in neat lines on the desk. How Dr Fidelis had even opened it up, Troy had no idea. To him, it had looked completely formed of a single material. "Did you speak with Adam? Last night, I mean", Dr Fidelis asked, while he began to put the small parts back together. "We did talk a small bit. I was just about ready to sleep when Adam spoke, so I cut it off quickly. When I mentioned that I was going to sleep, he seemed weirdly focused on me explaining it to him. I''m not sure why, to be honest," Troy said, thinking back on things he had wondered about Adam. After hearing what Troy said, Dr Fidelis made a small laugh. Not a laugh that was just for politeness. No, it was a laugh of understanding, like he had finally understood the joke he was told weeks ago. This reminded Troy of something he had been wondering about for a while now. "Hey, Dr Fidelis." "Yes?" "I have a question. About Adam." That seemed to have gotten his attention. Before, during their conversation, Dr Fidelis had merely been glancing over to Troy frequently, while fiddling with either the earpiece or some specs on the screen. Now, Dr Fidelis had fully turned his head. "What is it you''re confused about?" "It''s about info-packs. I was under the presumption that Adam had never received any." Dr Fidelis drew a relieved breath. "Oh, that''s great. I was worried you were going to ask something, I couldn''t tell you. This one is easy," Dr Fidelis said, with a quickly turning smile. "Technically, Adam has never received any info-packs, from the moment he was made. But, that doesn''t mean that he doesn''t have information, which we haven''t told him. To help him quickly get a grasp on things, we had pre-supplied him with a bunch of information. He doesn''t get access to them instantly. That would be cheating, and against my morals. No, he slowly gets access to the info-pack by methodically searching out the information." Things began to make sense to Troy. He had been wondering why Adam had been able to speak without being taught. Now, he finally knew. ¡­ A bit of a weak answer, though. He had been expecting a bit more. Well. Real-life couldn''t always be interesting. A screeching sound came from the right. "I really need to get somebody down to fix that door," Dr Fidelis muttered. "Sometimes, for no reason at all, it just begins screeching like that every time it gets opened." Troy didn''t answer, more focused on the incoming Dr Hale. She was looking mildly annoyed while carrying a folded out cardboard-box, which Troy guessed had the asked-for equipment. Dr Hale went over to Dr Fidelis, gave him the box, and went back into her standard position, of standing a few meters away, and noting down things. Dr Fidelis pulled out, what must have been some pretty advanced technology. To Troy, it looked like an old bicycle helmet, with a lot of corded spikes on top. It even had a strap to hold it in place on your head. Dr Fidelis fiddled a bit with the cords, and pressed a few buttons on the side, before handing it to Troy. "See. No needles to be seen," Dr Fidelis said. Dr Hale looked confused at that for a second before she noted it down like everything else. Troy looked at it for a moment, before he put it on, treating it like a bicycle helmet while strapping it on securely, much to Dr Hale''s displeasure, and Dr Fidelis'' amusement. "Do be careful, when handling that one. They aren''t made too cheaply", Dr Fidelis said. "How much do they cost to make?" Troy asked. "At a rough estimate? About¡­ forty-five, maybe fifty, grand. The materials for it aren''t too expensive, but the military is unfortunately not letting us get the blueprint for the machines used to make these things." That made Troy hesitate on even moving his head to breathe. This thing cost more than what Troy usually made in a year. His stillness at least made it easier for Dr Fidelis to press a few more buttons on the side of the helmet. This causes it to begin emitting a long, drawn, high pitched noise. It sounded like what Troy imagined it would sound like if you slid an old door-key on a piano-string. After a few seconds, a short beep came from it, and the high-pitched noise stopped. This caused Dr Fidelis to look over the small screen, which accompanied the buttons on the side of the helmet. He whistled at what he saw. "I am honestly surprised that your parents could even find this model. This is some second-generation tech. It''s a miracle, that we can even upgrade it safely." Troy took off the helmet, which Dr Hale took out of his hands surprisingly fast. Guess she didn''t want him handling it for any longer than necessary. Dr Fidelis got back into focus when he juggled a small, white and red pill in front of Troy''s face. "Now, you just need to swallow this. It''s filled with a couple of million nano-bots, which will upgrade your pitiful Neural-Link to something much better. Try not to bite into it. I hear it gets very uncomfortable, buddy, if you do that, so don''t even think about it." Nanobots in Troy''s brain, huh. That didn''t sound safe at all. But, Troy wouldn''t know if it was or wasn''t, so better to just trust your betters. He swallowed it quickly, trying to ignore the terrible taste. Dr Fidelis, seeing this, clapped his hand together. "Great. Let''s get you ready for the next test. It should take enough time for the nanobots to have done their job." Troy got up. He wasn''t so dizzy anymore. That was good, seeing as it was time to get back to work. He strapped the microphone and camera back on, put on the forgetful earpiece, and headed back inside the puzzle room. Chapter 10: Experimentation
After stepping into the puzzle-room, Troy finally put on the earpiece. He had fiddled around with, trying to find out, how Dr Fidelis had opened it out. He thought that he must have missed something, but he just couldn''t find anything to get his nails into. No crevices to get inside it. A shame. Troy had been wondering, what had been inside. Before, Troy had been more focused on Dr Fidelis, than what he had been toying around with. ''What has changed?'' And there Adam''s voice came, just a second after Troy got it on. He didn''t even need to initiate the conversation this time. "What do you mean, ''what has changed?'' Does anything feel different?" Troy asked. He knew, what had changed, but was wondering, what it must have felt like, on Adam''s side. ''Your output. It is not the same as before. And not the same as one second ago. It is constantly changing. It is getting annoying to constantly divert resources to finding your source-line.'' Guess Troy should have been expecting an answer like that. While he could grasp the meaning, the words said were not something, that he would have said. Source-line? It must have made more sense to Adam. "I had a problem with my brain-implant. It was an old model and wasn''t powerful enough to handle continuous use with you. It was affecting my body, so Dr Fidelis got Dr Hale to get an¡­ Neural-Upgrader, I think it was called. It had nanobots, which would upgrade it from within. They should be doing that right now so that might be, what''s messing with your source-lines, as you call them," Troy explained. He tried to focus on his back of his head, to see if he could still feel any of that pounding. It had come later in the test, last time, but a minor version of it had always been there. But, now there wasn''t anything to be felt. No headache affecting his mood. It was great. Even greater than he hadn''t been told that he would be paying for the upgrade. ''That explains the current situation. While it is annoying that it is still moving, the output, that I am getting from them is much more efficient. Less useless data.'' Good to know, that Adam liked the change. *Is it going well in there, Troy?*, Dr Fidelis answered through the earpiece. "Everything is going great. Adam noticed the change, but he says it''s positive, so that''s good," Troy answered. *Should have known that Adam would notice. At a later date, we certainly need to see, if he pinpoints different models. Dr Hale, please write that one down¡­ did you do it? Good.* It seemed that Dr Fidelis had not yet mastered the push-to-talk feature. *So, just to be sure, there are no headaches or dizziness of any kind?* "Nothing I can distinctly feel." *Good. Then, we can get on with explaining our next test. We will be moving on from the visual calibration test, and beginning the hearing calibration ones. The first one that we will be doing is the Directional-Hearing test.* Instead of the square appearing, like the previous test, a circle appeared before Troy. It was outfitted with numbers for all angles, going from one to three hundred and sixty. *Sound will emerge from around you. In this test, we will be limiting ourselves to only two-dimensional hearing, so the height that you hear it from will not matter. When a sound has played, Adam will relay the position where it came from, and you will note it down without personal input. Now, before we start, we need to make sure that your newly made Neural-Link is done. Adam, are you still experiencing trouble with you inputs?* ''No. The source-lines have stabilized.'' *Good. Then, let''s begin the test.* And, with that, the line was cut. The first sound was obvious, being directly on Troy''s right. It sounded like two coconuts clapped together. Or, it could be horses running. He couldn''t really hear the difference between the two. He did know it was precisely on his right, though. ''It is 85 degrees'' Or, maybe it wasn''t. Who could know? Definitely not Troy. It did make sense that he and Adam were getting different results. Troy had never had, what one could call ''good'' hearing. Knowing the general direction was easy, but getting any more out of his excuse for ears was impossible for him. But, Troy thought, would Adam have it any easier? If they were getting the same stimuli, wouldn''t they have the same presumptions? No¡­ that wouldn''t make sense. In the last test, Troy hadn''t had much of an idea, with most of the things. A general sense, but not much more. Yet, what did that mean? Was it the ears and eyes that were the problem, or was it actually- ''It is still 85 degrees'' Oh, right. Troy pressed on the 85, and another sound came. It was the sound of a cowbell being hit repeatedly. This time it came from the left. Maybe a bit more back than directly to the left¡­ or¡­ yeah, he didn''t have any freaking clue. ''It is 256 degrees.'' It was at around this point, that it was decided. Troy would just be letting Adam figure it out himself because he wasn''t putting in any worthwhile input. At least, there was something more interesting for Troy this time. Instead of simply looking forward straight ahead, while Adam guessed distances, he would now hear weird sounds from around¡­ while Adam would still guess. But, it was different this time, with it being directions instead. ¡­ Troy really hoped the later test would be more interesting than this. ''I believe that I am not communicating improperly. There must be some other fault in this pre-established communication-system.'' How Adam''s voice could be so cutting, yet also so monotone was a wonder Troy would always wonder about. Hopefully not in the presence of it, though. Troy pushed the number 256 on the circle, and on the cycle went. Some sound would emerge from around Troy. Sometimes it was music instruments, sometimes it was animal sounds, and one time there was what Troy believed to be a rabid rabbit. One could even say that it had been the Rabbit of Caerbannog. Anyway, after the sound had been played, Adam would be quiet for a few seconds. Troy wasn''t sure what Adam was doing in that timeframe. Knowing where the sound came from was instinctual for Troy, so he wasn''t sure what the purpose of Adam''s pause was. After thinking for a while, Adam would finally answer simply, and Troy would note down the answer on the circle, which would cause the whole cycle to repeat yet again. Troy was beginning to get into the Zone of Work. All other sounds, but the voice of Adam would be ignored, not even being given a quarter of a thought. Not much was actually given any thought. Troy''s body would simply move, his hand moving to the number given by Adam. It was a game of repetition, something Troy had learned to master in his short life. Mindless work was the easiest, and Troy was more than experienced with it. You know, if Troy could just continue, this work-state of his, he could actually come to enjoy the act of wor- *Hey, sorry, just cutting in.* Why did Troy think this way? He should have known. The circle in front of Troy disappeared. "Hey, Dr Fidelis," Troy said, with a bit of a confused voice. It was early for them to be done. "Are we finished with this test?" *Well yes, but actually no.*, Dr Fidelis said. *Already, I can see that the difficulty of this test might have been a bit too easy for Adam. As of now, there have only been two wrong answers out of the seventy-nine noises, with both being because of your wrong input to them.* Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. It seemed Adam really just was superior in using Troy''s ears. And, even without using his ears, Troy still somehow managed to hear the wrong thing. "So", Troy said, in a hope to move the conversation away from his personal failures in life. "What will we be doing now?" *You will be doing pretty much the same as before. But, now there will be multiple sounds from multiple directions, which are all played for a maximum of two seconds. A small step-up from the former. I didn''t even want to stop the test, to put this new addition in, but the tests are pre-set, so I need to stop and start to modify it. And there wasn''t really any reason not to let you know of the change.* "Well, isn''t that nice of you", Troy said, proud of hiding his very sarcastic meaning. *Of course, of course. Just being a good buddy. No need to thank me, or anything. Without further ado, I think its time to start up again. Are you ready?* "Ready", Troy confirmed. He guessed Adam confirmed his readiness too, seeing as the line was cut, and the circle appeared once again. But, the circle had got a new, crude addition to it. In the top right corner, there now was a ''confirm'' button. Troy guessed it was there, so one could select multiple directions, before making a guess. He wanted to test out his little theory but decided against it. Troy had already made false negatives. He wasn''t gonna do the third one on purpose. Behind Troy, a bird call was heard, and, to the right of him, a sad trombone sound clip was heard. For now, Troy could follow. Yet, it seemed that Adam was having trouble deciding. Already, ten seconds had passed. That should have easily been enough time to think it trough.
Adam had messed up, much to his own irritation. When updating the test to the new parameters, he had misunderstood the way the sounds would play. Specifically, in what order the sounds would play first. There wasn''t any order, in what sounds would play first. They all played simultaneously. When the first hint of a sound came, Adam had put all his focus onto triangulating its position. He had been almost halfway in doing so when he realized that another sound had also started. This was about the point, where Adam had realized his mistakes and had begun to try and fix them. Differentiating the two sounds from each other had been easy. Getting the position of each source of the sounds? Not so much. It took time. The time which Adam didn''t have. He hadn''t misunderstood the maximum allowed time for each sound, much to his greatening irritation. He couldn''t simply memorize the details of each sound and find their positions retrospectively. He needed to constantly adjust his methods ongoing with the sound. Having two seconds simply wasn''t enough time to process both, and, if he got the insinuation right, he would soon be facing more than just two. An answer to his problems quickly sounded off in his mind. He had the necessary equipment to utilize it safely, and it would solve the immediate problems. Adams'' mind turned gleeful. It was times like these, where he loved his uncanny ability to retrospect his prior problems and solutions. While he only had two seconds to work with, he could make those two seconds last hours. Not that he would of course. Hours, that is. A gross over-approximation. Minutes would be sufficient in Adam''s endeavour. But, there still was a problem that needed to be solved. While this would solve the problem of future sounds, the two sounds, which had already been played, were still unknown in which directions they came from. The general direction of one of them was known, but the other¡­ Adam didn''t have the slightest idea. Well¡­ there was one option. But, Adam was not sure if it really could be called that. It went more than a slight bit against his morals. Last time, when it had been used, he had had the excuse of statistical probability on his side. But, now¡­ it was a bad choice, yet it was the only reasonable choice, which Adam could use conveniently. Adam would need to guess. It was terrible in its core. Acting like one had an understanding of a subject. An imposter in a world of knowledge. Despicable. And Adam would be dragging himself down to those levels. Self-deprecation was beginning to make sense to him. So, moving past Adam''s indefinitely continuing, deprecated thought process, he needed to figure out, which numbers he would guess as to the correct ones. Before doing so, he would need to ask himself one thing. Would he be going the safer route, with a maximum of limited success, or the risky route, with a chance of complete success? The safest option would be two guesses at two different places, where he thought one of the sounds came from. This would double his chances of getting one right. But, there was a larger problem, with this strategy. Adam wasn''t sure what a successful round required. Before, he would just need the one direction for a successful round, but now, when there were two different directions, what would it require? One right answer? Two, maybe? Was there a half success? If Adam created the system himself, he would probably make it, so all answers needed to be correct. With the previously stated insinuations, the sounds would be more plentiful. Just having one correct answer for a successful round, wasn''t a successful plan in the long term. No¡­ it would seem that the risky route was necessary. He would be guessing in the general direction of the nearly-centred in sound, and somewhere else at complete random. The chances of getting it right was a one in a hundred thousand chance, but it still existed. Any answer was better than no answer, after all. And so, Adam guessed. ''It is 274 and 123 degrees.'' Now that the guess had been made, Adam could finally look past this moment in his life, and not think about the wrong things he had done. As Troy began putting in his guesses, Adam began speeding himself up. Or¡­ would it be slowing himself down? Everything around him certainly slowed, so his perceptions were slowed down¡­ but, his processor was going past the point of where heating would start, and therefore speeding up. Adam would just call it ''speeding himself up''. It sounded better, to him at least. Still, there was the problem of relatively for Adam. Internally, he didn''t have any way to know how screwed his perception of time was. This was fixed, by observing the movements of Troy. Adam had, in the more boring moments of the past tests, documented the approximate time for some of Troy''s movements. Unfortunately, this was limited to only the most regular movements, like breathing and pressing the flat screen, with his fingers. Still, it at the least gave Adam something to work with. Moving from one point to another on the flat-screen took Troy about four seconds, usually. Slower than Adam had expected, but he was thinking that Troy must be double-checking himself constantly. No matter. With the time normally being four seconds, Adam sped himself up to the point at, which it took Troy a whole two minutes to complete the action. Deciding that this was plenty of time, for Adam to figure out the future positions of the sounds, he stopped speeding himself up. Also, he didn''t want to wait too long before the test continued. Patience was not a virtue that Adam supported. Now¡­ distracting himself was a whole other thing. He set up a larger focus on incoming sounds, and, after that, delved into his thoughts. Maybe he should plan a little ahead.
''It is 274 and 123 degrees.'' Troy breathed a sigh. If it was relieved or stressed, he wouldn''t be able to say. It was good that Adam finally answered, and did not ask Troy to guess for him. It was stressing him, not knowing, what was going through Adams'' head, and why he finally answered after so long. Troy mentally shook his head. He would stress himself even more if he got but the shortest glance of Adam''s thoughts. He was sure of it. The focus needed to be directed at something better. Something- Damn, it. Troy needed to act before thinking. He pressed down on the two measurements as quickly as he could, before going back to his thoughts. If he focused on the job, he would succeed in it. If he succeeded, maybe he could get a promotion. Preferably not a promotion in responsibilities, of course. More along the lines of a monetary promotion. He definitely wouldn''t mind being looked at as a Veblen good. The next sounds played. Like last time, it was two different sounds. A dog barking and a¡­ guitar, maybe, being tuned. Troy wondered how long it would take- ''It is 32 and 165 degrees.'' Bit faster than last time. No, scratch that. A LOT faster than last time. Troy didn''t even have time to think. Did Adam figure out some- ''Please answer quickly. You are being slow.'' Little rude, if Troy needed to comment on that. Still, he couldn''t complain. This was his job, after all. He reached up with his arm, at a relaxed pace, and put in two numbers. He hesitated, with his finger over the ''confirm'' button, checking, if the two inputs were correct. He was pretty sure, so he just- ''Press the button. You are correct.'' Somebody was certainly being impatient. He pressed the button, and the sounds came once again. This time, it had increased to three different sounds. With all that done, the cycle turned up once more. Sound from around him, Adam''s voice in his head, and him pressing a few buttons. Sound, voice, and press. It continued for a good ten more minutes before the sounds stopped. Troy hadn''t been paying too much attention, but he was pretty sure that there had been about seven sounds playing simultaneously. It had to had been nearly impossible. There were only so many directions they could come from. There had to be some overlap somewhere. *And¡­ we are done! For now, at least. Do get out of there. It''s time for a lunch break.*, Dr Fidelis'' voice cut in, through the earpiece, static as always. That''s all that had to be said. Troy was well on his way, out of the white void, and into the world of foody goodness.
Stepping out of the puzzle-room, Troy instantly took off the earpiece, learning from his previous accidents. Dr Fidelis was ready for him, helping him get off the microphone, as Troy fought with the strap for the camera. Dr Hale was still just standing back, quietly writing down notes. What she was writing, Troy had absolutely no idea. "This test turned out to be a bit different, than what was originally planned", Dr Fidelis said, breaking the unnoticed silence. "But, it went much better than it ever could before. I really underestimated Adam''s abilities this time. He got almost everything right." The almost in that sentence was noticed instinctively by Troy. "How much did he get wrong?" Troy asked, holding out the earpiece, so Dr Fidelis could get it. After seeing the earpiece off his ear, Dr Fidelis answered. "In the least, the answer to your question would be that he got a surprising number of them wrong," Dr Fidelis started up. Troy could tell this was going to be a long one. "I don''t mean surprising, as in a lot of answers wrong. What is surprising, is which answers he got wrong. Let''s put the last testing into perspective. The first answer that Adam had, was wrong. Not too surprising. This was calibration, as the name would be hinting at. No, what is surprising, is the time it took Adam to not get it wrong. In the first ten answers, Adam had three wrong answers. In the next ten, it was one. After that, there was none on purpose. The adaptability that he displays is phenomenal. Constant improvement is something, which we can only dream of. Adam displays it perfectly." This did not match up, yet again. "Doesn''t that mean you lied, when you told the reasons for changing the test? You said that all of Adam''s answers had been right," Troy said. "That part, you can thank Dr Hale for", Dr Fidelis said, with a thumb in Dr Hale''s direction, who raised her left eyebrow just a tad in answer. "Originally, I was gonna give you a rundown on Adam''s wrong answers, but then Dr Hale called me a silly sod. Giving any corrections would compromise the test, so I had to give the answers, which Adam already believed, as in, all correct. Those two wrong inputs of yours weren''t wrong, though. You might want to pay more attention next time, buddy." Troy nearly flinched from the last sentence but was able to keep his body in check. He just knew that he was getting a comment from those mistakes of his. They had not been on purpose! "Yeah, sorry about that. It''s honestly too easy to get distracted in that room. That white void really is disconcerting to be in," Troy said, trying to low-key justify his incompetence. At that, Dr Fidelis grinned a bit more smugly, than Troy was okay with. "You won''t have to worry about that for long, buddy," Dr Fidelis stated, with a smug aura encompassing him. "That won''t be a problem for long." It seemed like Dr Fidelis had already planned, what tests they would be doing after the calibration section. It was surprising, though, hearing that the white-room would be changed around. "What will replace the white space?" Troy asked, with a curious tone to his voice. "Any specific tests that are in need of a special environment?" "Afraid I can''t tell you that, buddy. It would totally ruin my enjoyment¡­ and the tests, of course. If you knew, I wouldn''t be too surprised that Adam could figure it out from your reactions. We cant have a Clever Hans on our hands, now, can we?" A shame. Troy was hoping to get some hints. But, that would kinda ruin the reason for why they hired him to begin with. "Anyway", Dr Fidelis said. "Do go get some lunch. Be back in an hour or so. The next test should be ready then." "Are you not coming with us?" "Ah, no. I don''t eat at the cafeteria. Special diet. They kicked me out last time I requested their meals to fit my needs." Troy could see that. It must not have been pretty. No problem. It was time for some food! Chapter 11: Degradation
Finally, they had reached the cafeteria. Troy had not been too sure on how they were supposed to get there. Luckily, Dr Hale had been there, to act as the unintended guide. When Troy went inside the food-containing heaven, he had wished for the beautiful aromas to fill his brain, with plenty of blissful sensations. Unfortunately, this was not a realistic expectation for what could be called law-mandated food dispensatorium. If they could let the workers starve, Troy was sure they would. Still, according to the void in his stomach, the food wasn''t looking too bad. The green parts were probably made to be healthy. It was definitely a natural product. Getting over to the line, to the buffet, Troy began looking over his various choices. Some looked quite appealing, some looked familiar to this regular diet, and some were outright disgusting to look at. The two last points interchanged a lot, much to Troy''s dismay. Just to further his self-image, he chose some of the choices, which he usually ate. Baked potatoes, bland chicken with seasoning, with some bread and butter to the side. It was the meal for the ultimate generalist. None of his choices were completely healthy or unhealthy. It was a fine balance, which Troy had mastered, through the art of self-control, and a very limited budget. With his lunch for the day taken care of, the time had come to find a seat placement. Unfortunately for Troy, he was not as lucky as he had been earlier this morning. No tables were empty. The time had come to make a choice. Could he still make the excuse of being tired? No, anybody else with his usual caffeine intake would have had heart problems by now. Maybe he could eat somewhere other than the cafeteria, maybe move to his room. No, that could go wrong in several ways. He didn''t know the rules for taking away food, and Troy wasn''t sure he could find his way back to the room, much less back to the cafeteria. It seemed that his choices were limited to inside the cafeteria. That is¡­ if he decided to eat lunch today. His mind didn''t even need to answer that. His stomach made its opinion all too clear. Back to his choices. Where would he sit? Troy needed to think about this smartly. What would he be looking for, in a seating place? It would certainly need to be quiet. As little talking as possible. Looking over the tables, it was obvious that Troy was running a hard bargain from the get-go. The people were making their relation to apes clear, with their shouting, laughing, and overall socialness. Still¡­ there were a few tables, where people were being rather quiet. Looking over the residents of those few, quiet tables, a new requirement was quickly established. Any table with people that scared Troy, would be ruled out immediately. He wouldn''t be surprised, if they were all trained in hand to hand combat, with the ways they were handling their knives. Looking over the tables, the available places were quickly dwindled to a¡­ zero. A shame. No matter, what his stomach would say, it was simply impossible for Troy to- Dr Hale walked past Troy, food tray in hand, without saying a single word, simply giving him an annoyed glance. He followed her instantly, no words said between them. No reason to make it more awkward. Looking over Dr Hales shoulder, Troy figured out, which table they were heading to. It had been one of Troy''s first choices, with the residents of the table numbering to a flat one, making conversation nearly impossible. The table had been ruled out, though, when the resident had been identified. "Dr Still-Face. Newcomer", Charlie said, with his glass held high. "Finally, you have deigned to join me." "Hello", Troy said neutrally, sitting down on the opposite side of Charlie. Contradicting her usual variety of responses, Dr Hale answered with more than an annoyed glance. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Good day to you, Mr It''s-Just-A-Break", Dr Hale stated. She sat down next to Charlie, who seemed to have found her jap all too humourous. "It really just is a break, though", Charlie said, beginning to tear through his not-so-minor stack of food. "Just for the record." "Trust me, it''s over for you, and any general dating-opportunities", Dr Hale said. "Maybe, you should have just had your eyes on Kim, and not gone any further than that. Three was a stretch to even try." "Three is a perfectly acceptable number for a young bachelor, such as myself," Charlie said, defending himself. "You have worked here longer than some adults have lived. Calling you young is a lie that I don''t feel comfortable with," Dr Hale retorted, waving her fork in Charlie''s general direction, so as to increase the validity of her point Troy found the way it was going all too interesting. Reality shows had always been a guilty pleasure of his. Seeing some of it live was all the better. Looking over Charlie, Troy did not think that he could have been that old. His hair wasn''t grey at all. His stature hinted at a bit more than casual fitness, with his arms thicker than some people''s legs. If that was from fat or muscle, though, Troy couldn''t tell. Charlie wasn''t a bodybuilder, but he definitely had the muscle mass needed to be a bodybuilder. "I''m only forty-two! Not even close to your levels." The last part was muttered, but Dr Hale certainly heard it. A fork was poked into Charlie''s side, causing a very manly yelp to emerge from his throat. Yet, Charlie seemed to find some humour in all of it, briefly turning his head away from his pile of food and trying not to laugh. If Troy wasn''t daydreaming, he could even glimpse a twitch of Dr Hale''s mouth. "Okay", Charlie said. "I deserved some retribution for that, but that doesn''t mean you need to poke me, with your dirty fork! At least use your nails or something. I can''t show up at the laboratory with a dirty lab coat on again." "Is Greg still bothering you about last time?" Dr Hale asked, cleaning her fork with her knife. "When isn''t he bothering me about something? I''m beginning to think he has misunderstood what his job is. He just stays in my personal space all day, criticising whatever he can about me. Today, there was criticism about punctuation errors on my draft papers. Punctuation errors! Can the man at least get creative about what he criticizes me about? Maybe my haircut being too good?" "You don''t have a haircut. You just hate getting it cut," Dr Hale cut in. "Long hair is a design choice, I''ll have you know. It might save my life one day." "How the hell is long hair going to save your life?" "When can long hair not save my life. Maybe I go to a metal concert and need to show my appreciation of the music, without shouting or using other parts of my body. Ever thought about that?" Charlie said, defending his terrible excuses. "You brag about your jazz vinyl weekly," Dr Hale said. "I don''t think you will have to worry about metal concerts. Any other hobbies that might excuse your laziness?" As if breaking the fourth wall, Charlie glanced over at Troy, who had been a bit too focused on enjoying the show. The stare was momentary, and Charlie''s focus was quickly laid back on his food. "?u li vetludas?" Charlie said, after a few minutes of silence. Troy had no idea what he was saying. He brought his attention away from his plate, to look over at him. Dr Hale sighed at whatever Charlie said. "Demandu lin poste," she said. Okay. This seemed to be a bit private. Troy was pretty sure it was, at least. But, maybe they were simply switching language for no particular reason, and simply hadn''t noticed. "What did he say?" Troy asked Dr Hale. She looked at Troy for a moment, seeming to debate inside herself. After a moment, she looked to have made a decision. "He was asking if you were a receiver," Dr Hale said, with a deadpan expression. Charlie was finding this all too amusing. And that was, what Troy was getting out of asking into personal conversations. Details he never wanted to know of. Troy moved back to his food, pointedly ignoring their conversation from that point on. He went through his plate, and, when Dr Hale had finished too, they began moving to the testing room, neither saying a word. At least, they weren''t in a hurry this time.
Arriving back into the testing-room, Troy saw Dr Fidelis typing away at the screen as always. He stopped when they arrived and looked at his watch. "Aren''t you early?" Dr Fidelis asked. "I thought you would be away for at least a few more minutes." "Is the next test not ready?" Troy asked. If they had mandatory free time to use, he wouldn''t mind not working for a few minutes. "Oh, don''t worry about that", Dr Fidelis said, waving one hand, so as to wave away the worry. "All the tests have been ready since this morning. Well, all the tests we could feasibly cram into today." Cramming¡­ "How many tests do we have planned for today?" Troy asked. "If we were going after the maximum amount." This caused Dr Fidelis to look through the screen for a minute. After finding, what he was looking for, he went back to Troy. "If my notes are correct, I have planned a maximum of eighty-three tests," Dr Fidelis said, quickly looking back at the screen, just to make sure he got the number right. "Unfortunately, we don''t have time to do them all. We are already over halfway in our work hours of the day, and we haven''t even completed five tests yet, including those from yesterday." "How were you even planning for us to do eighty-three in a day?" Troy asked, a little flabbergasted. "I am genuinely curious about how you thought that possible." Dr Fidelis perked up, at the chance of explaining. Or, at least, it looked that way to Troy. "Well, buddy, it would take some extreme planning, I can give you that. First off, we would be abolishing a few minor rights, such as limited work hours, breaks, and the standards of test transcriptions. Second would be getting up a bit earlier than normal. I would say an hour, maybe two, before midnight, so we could be bright and ready to test. Of course, as long as we complete the tests on the same day, they all count, so that gives us twenty-four hours to complete tests. That''s about seventeen minutes to each test. Plenty of time, if we hurry, and stick to the plan." Troy was fine with the current pace. No need to abolish any limits. He was fine with breaks too. "I don''t even know what I was expecting", Troy muttered. Dr Fidelis grinned. "That''s the right tone, buddy! Now, let''s get you ready." Troy''s gear was strapped on, and in he went, ready to be bored for a good cause. Chapter 12: Externalization
After too long of a time had passed, Adam felt the reconnection. The time for testing was upon him. It had been getting boring. Adam had been trying to talk with Dr Fidelis, but he had simply said that he needed to prepare the next batch of tests. Adam fully understood the logic behind it, but couldn''t he have made an exception for him? He had been so bored. Nothing to worry about now. He was getting all the fascinating sensations from Troy. Simply having a source-line tied to him, let Adam learn so much. He still couldn''t grasp how Troy, and humans in general, went about their life, ignoring such a large part of their sensations. How did they tune it out? Ignoring all but just the sense of touch, the feeling of their skin, it was already overwhelming for Adam. There was just too much surface area. He could feel every slight wind in the room, every place where a fabric touched, where it moved against the skin. Adam could feel it all. And, it just distracted him to no end in sight. Adam could get lost in it all, trying to systematically quantify each, individual sighting of every sensation. Even categorizing every sensation was something he had been trying since the start. There were so many, that they hadn''t even mentioned. As of now, they had done tests, which worked with calibrated two different sensations. How many of these would they do? What would they do in them? Adam wasn''t even sure he could articulate what some of them felt like. Systematically structuring their outputs seemed virtually impossible to do comprehensively. Would even he understand what he would say if asked? Oh, how Adam could go on and on. So many things to ask, yet so little time to ask them. Speaking of asking questions. ''I see that you have returned from your lunch break. Was your meal satisfactory?'' Socialisation was one of the many things, which Adam couldn''t refine alone. Conversations required a minimum of two people, to get satisfactory results. While he could have conversations with himself, the refinement process would not get any large progress from it. To Adam, there was one needed requirement for a conversation. One could not know what the other was thinking. On the broad spectrum, it could be described as an exchange of information. One, where you could not know, what the other already knew, or what the other wanted to even know. The information could be anything. It could be an explanation of the peculiarities of the Spanish inquisition, or it could be the knowledge that one wanted to know the current feeling of the other. The possibilities are endless. And that is, what Adam must combat. The endlessness of it all. "The food was fine," Troy said, unknowingly helping prove Adam''s point. "Not the best that I''ve had here, but you can''t always ask for perfection." From Adam''s own questions, he could predict, what Troy''s answer would be, to a general degree. He would know that Troy would most likely answer his question, as was obligated by the social contract. The answer could be averagely predicted to be a moderate positive. One usually didn''t answer negatively to opening questions, as that could further ruin future conversation, with the same person. Put the focus back on the mentioned social contracts. Adam had realised their existence, after longer observations, of his, and others, conversations. To put it simply, they restricted the genre of answers one could make during a conversation. One couldn''t change the entire tone or subject of a conversation, without a leadup to it. If Adam asked something, with it sounding positive, one had to answer with a positive, or semi-positive, statement. The ways a conversation could go were virtually infinite, but, with these self-instated rules, it could do so a little bit slower. It helped Adam, in his efforts. With so many options in exchanges, the further along one tried to predict, the more exponential the possibilities became. One had to steer a conversation, to get the ending one sought. It was hard, seeing as the other was doing the same, without either having an understanding of the other''s wants. It seemed impossible, but Adam was sure he could grow proficient in it. ''Good.'' He wasn''t there yet, but he would be someday. Any answer that Troy was about to make, was silenced by Dr Fidelis, coming from the communication device. *Troy, are you ready to begin the test?*, Dr Fidelis asked. "Yes, sir", Troy asked. He seemed about to make some gesture, with his right hand, but stopped himself, for some reason. *Good. And¡­ do remember, what we talked about, okay?* "Of-of course," stuttered Troy. Troy''s pulse seemed to quicken slightly. Adam wondered why. *Great! No problems, then. Everything should be in order soon.* ''Are you ready, buddy?'', Dr Fidelis asked, through a sent message. ''I am ready.'' He hoped to get a reference to an earlier conversation too. *It looks like we will be starting now.*, Dr Fidelis'' voice came in from Troy''s side. It seemed no unique message would appear today. A shame. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Like always, a two-dimensional object appeared before Troy. A regular, wizard-blue square, to be specific. On it, a scroller appeared, with a zero next to it. *We will be continuing for calibration tests, with another test focused on the hearing abilities. This time, we will be seeing how good Adam will be at pointing out frequencies. Troy, your job is like the others. Adam will say, which frequency he thinks it is, and you will note it down. Before you is a scroller, which allows you to scroll to any frequency you need. Are the instructions understood?* "Yes, Dr Fidelis", Troy said instantly. Adam¡­ did not answer quite as fast. He didn''t at all. He just kept quiet, not sending a single message. Adam had a problem. Specifically, the chances of answering this correctly. There had not been any larger focus on learning to differentiate the different frequencies of sound. Adam had never thought that there would be an actual need for it. While it had been on his learning list, it was a low priority. Realistically, there was only one way to fix this problem. He would need to throw in the towel. ''Troy.'' "Yes?" Troy asked. He was likely surprised. It was not the usual time for parleying. ''Please, do ask Dr Fidelis to contact me directly. I have stumbled upon complications in the manner of his testing.'' Troy straightened his back and took a deep breath. Likely to achieve full circulation. From, what Dr Fidelis had said, it had a positive effect on one''s thoughts. "Okay, Dr Fidelis, we''ve had a problem here." Dr Fidelis answered instantly. *What is the problem?* The words seemed weirdly hasted. "I am not sure. Adam asked me to relay that he had complications and that he needed to speak with you directly", Troy said, not quoting Adam perfectly, but fine enough for the needed purposes. The communication device was cut off, with an audible click. ''What''s got your gears stuck?'' was hastily scribbled to Adam, who had no small difficulty in understanding the metaphor. ''What do you mean?'' Adam sent back. ''Which problem do you have, that is holding up the testing?'' Dr Fidelis seemed to be answering much quicker than usual. Had Adam messed up his perception by accident. Checking Troy''s breathing patterns, everything seemed to be as they should. The subject was disregarded. ''I am not sure that I will be able to answer the average frequency with any kind of accuracy.'' ''Why do you think you won''t be able to do so?'' ''I have not experienced most frequencies, with the understanding of what frequency they were supposed to portray. I have nothing to base my predictions on.'' This time, Dr Fidelis did not answer, with the same intensity. He actually waited a full second. ''Okay, I can fix that. If the problem is you not having enough foreknowledge about it, I can get you that supplemental knowledge. I can play the different frequencies, from twenty to twenty thousand, while having the frequency listed on the square. Would that work for you?'' It wasn''t an optimal choice. It would be time-consuming and would require Troy to constantly look at the square. The biggest problem was clearly the time-consuming part. But, it was the only option listed, so not much else could be chosen. ''That seems¡­ amenable.'' A smart suggestion needed a smart answer. ''Good. I''ll let you tell Troy this new development. I am sure he will love it.'' Adam was sure he would too. Who wouldn''t want the most accurate results? The connection to Dr Fidelis was snapped, and back the focus went to Troy. ''I have good news.'' Troy''s head went a slight bit up, his neck muscles tensing. "Got the problem sorted?" Troy asked, stretching his arms a bit. Did they really go sore so quickly? ''No, the problem has not been sorted yet. A solution has been found, but it will take a while.'' "Oh, what did you do to solve it?... And what was the problem again?" Troy asked. ''The problem was my inability to accurately select certain frequencies, due to my inexperience with them. To solve this, Dr Fidelis decided to play us nearly every frequency that the human ear can hear.'' Troy froze. His lips moved, yet Adam could not hear anything said. Was the connection faltering? "Oh, for Vattimo''s sake, why is this world so sadistic", Troy said, with the decibel range distinctively higher than average. At least it showed that the connection was fine. And that was about when the demonstration began. First, a number appeared on the square. Twenty. Troy noticed instantly its appearance, looking over to it. That was when the sound began. Adam couldn''t say that the sound was too unpleasant. Sure, it was unchanging in its entirety, but that didn''t make it terrible to hear. Troy seemed to be of a different mind, quickly going down to half-rest on his knees, with his hands on his ears. Luckily this did not change the sound levels at all. Unluckily, it made it impossible for Adam to see the square and the number that would be displayed on it. ''Will you please get up, so I can see the numbers?'' Troy did not seem to notice his words. Or, if he did, he was certainly ignoring them. Troy was just crumbling further down to his feet, and closing his eyes completely. How this was supposed to assist Adam, he had no idea. ''Your actions are damaging my ability to learn. Will you please stand upright?'' Troy mumbled something. "Too damn loud," Troy had said. It was at that point that the sound stopped. Troy looked up while opening his eyes. On the square, the number was scrolling up from twenty to thirty. ''Please keep your eyes open this time.'' Adam needed to focus, or the help from Dr Fidelis would be wasted. This time, instead of falling down on the floor, Troy slowly got up and righted himself. He was wavering, in his attention to the square, but Adam was not sure that much more could be asked. And on it went. A Frequency would play for about ten seconds, before switching over to a higher frequency. It started in just increasing by ten hertz. Then twenty-five. The fifty. And finally, ending with a constant increase of a hundred hertz.
After too long, then what could possibly be healthy, the constant tones finally stopped. With it maxing out at twenty thousand hertz, a point where Troy couldn''t even hear it anymore. Why he couldn''t hear it, there could be several reasons. Maybe his body had adapted to the constant, sonic onslaught, by lowering his natural hearing capabilities. Or, maybe the other tones were just deafening those he was supposed to hear. If Troy didn''t have tinnitus before the week ended, he wasn''t sure what he would have. But, all that didn''t matter too much now. He had survived, and could now rest from this mental torture. ¡­ no, wait. *With that jazz over with, are you ready to begin the actual test?*, Dr Fidelis''s voice came in. Was it bad that Troy liked the distraction, that came with multiple tones? Why did he even have the gall to think he was done? Troy hadn''t even started. "... Yes," Troy said, with less enthusiasm than last time. If negatives were physically possible, he would be a prime example. *Good. So, I don''t think I need to repeat myself, so we can just begin immediately. And, don''t get too surprised, if I get in halfway through it." That sparked the line down to the conversation, which Troy had had with Dr Fidelis, after getting out last time. Improvised additions to the tests. He had already altered this test. Who was to say, he wouldn''t do it again? The earpiece stopped, and the test began. Looking down at the square, it had reset to simply say zero, with the scroller just sitting there like before. Testing out how the scroller functioned, it turned out it would become more sensitive, as time went on. In the first two seconds, It would take a full arm movement to move it through ten numbers. After ten seconds of waiting, though, his tiny shakes moved it so much more. Just removing his hand, reset the sensitivity, luckily. Then the sound came, and Troy wished he had distracted himself a little better. Maybe even enough to not notice any sounds. ''It is 1970 hertz.'' This was gonna take a while. Troy just knew it. Chapter 13: Introduction
Why did Troy ever accept this job? He should have known. Actions had consequences. Not thinking about why such a simple job, had such a great wage, was the definition of stupidity. What did he expect that he would do? Be a guide to an unknown entity that was desperate to look up at an all-knowing figure? How could he have ever believed that? The other job-positions were never clear on what exactly one was supposed to do, and this situation was a clear indication of why that was. If Troy had been told exactly, what he would be doing, and not just in the general term, of test-participant, he would have denied it oh so quickly. Only the rarest of masochists would ever say yes to being blasted with sound. He was glad that medical insurance was part of the job package. He would need somebody to fix his ears. If they were not broken from this, he wouldn''t be surprised, if he just deafened himself, to simply have some peace and quiet. ''It is 1575 hertz.'' Troy scrolled down to it and pressed the confirm button. A brief silence was played before another frequency surfaced. Adam didn''t seem to have his ideas about it. He didn''t even seem fazed with those annoying sounds. Troy was even criticized for his initial reaction. He was criticized for reacting to loud, unexpected noise. Sure, maybe it wasn''t common to drop to the ground and put one''s hands over their ears. But that didn''t mean that somebody could act so exasperatedly about it. No human being could not sympathize with Troy''s aversions. Adam couldn''t sympathize, though. He likely wouldn''t even understand why Troy would do so. ''It is 445 hertz.'' It was noted down. Brief silence, and then a piercing, high-pitched frequency. The deeper tones, Troy could live with them. But those noises, which would make a little girl scream seem deep, were something Troy despised evolution for. Why couldn''t it have made us a little less receptive? ''It is 19545 hertz.'' Oh, really? Troy thought it would be a bit higher. Couldn''t say that, though. If he messed up somewhere, Troy wouldn''t put it past Dr Fidelis, to make them repeat it all. He moved, to note down the newest number, but the square disappeared before he reached it. Troy blinked slowly, trying to see if his dreams had turned true. Had he finally trained himself to ignore specific things? If so, training his hearing was next. *Hello, Hello*, Dr Fidelis'' voice came from the earpiece. *Sorry, just cutting in.* And, there it was. Definitive proof that deities did not exist. Even the cruellest of omnipotent beings would not let a world such as this exist. "Let me guess", Troy said, slightly ignoring just who he was talking to. "We will be doing the same test, but with some minor modification to it." *You''re a bit witty today, aren''t you?* Troy could hear Dr Fidelis laugh. *But, yes, you guessed it. Adam is just too good, at these tests. I can already see what the results will be, and that''s not good. So¡­ we will be scaling up the difficulty by a bit.* "Several frequencies at the same time?" Troy guessed. *No. Yes. Kinda? The puzzle-room will still only be generating one sound at a time. The other frequencies will be a little something called you talking.* Well, that was new. Active engagement. Could it be called a positive or a negative overhaul? He would be doing something more complex than rolling and pressing buttons. Yet, it would require him to think about it. That was hypocritical though. He had been despising the simplicity of it all. This was complex¡­ or, at least, more complex than being an over-glorified assistant. "Well, that sounds fine to me," Troy said, cracking his knuckles in the downtime. *That''s good, because you didn''t have a choice in the matter*, Troy heard Dr Hale say in the background. A fake cough was heard. *Anyway, we will be continuing the test now. Just talk with him, and put in the correct frequencies like before. No opinions on that front, please.* With that said, the connection ended, and the square reappeared. Troy couldn''t begin to count the reasons he should leave. But, he could count one reason he should stay. As they say, quality over quantity. ''So...'' Oh, this was interesting. Adam wasn''t getting to the point. "Yes?" Troy asked, his tone as jovial as his mood. ''Do you have any recommendations on talking-points?'' "No, can''t say I have any. Got anything on your front?" ''The purpose of this test is to make you confuse me, by talking constantly. Would it not be best, if I simply asked questions, which you would answer as intricately as possible?'' Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Troy felt that there was some definite underplaying in Adam''s plan, but he honestly couldn''t make himself care about it. "Sounds good. Shoot." ''When not testing, what do you do?'' Asking into the details of Troy''s free time? He shouldn''t be too surprised, but he had been expecting something a bit more extravagant. "I don''t really do much in my free time. Maybe lie in bed, staring up at a ceiling, watch older tv-shows. You know, relaxing stuff. Anything, which doesn''t require me to work too hard to get or do." ''Why would you not want to work hard, to attain something? Isn''t the hardest thing to get superior in quality?'' The sound started up again, becoming an unignorable thunder, to Troy''s ears. But he persevered. "Well, you aren''t too wrong, in what you''re saying. Yes, most hard to get things are something we all want. But, even if we work hard, harder than we have ever worked before, attaining it isn''t guaranteed. Sometimes, it can all come down to chance. Those who don''t try will never get it, yes, but those who do try may never get anything either. The chance of getting nothing is what puts it off everyone''s to-do list. We don''t want to fail in our goals, so we don''t have any." Adam was silent for some time. Troy expected that he was trying to process it. ''It is 6754 hertz.'' Or maybe he was using Troy''s silence as a way to give himself a crutch. "Got any more of those questions?" he asked, putting down Adam''s answer on the panel. ''Plenty.'' "Then let''s hear them all." The talking was distracting. Troy could give it that.
This time, the test had been much longer. Yet, in a blatant contradiction, it had felt shorter. Was this the mystical feeling, which Troy had only heard in mutters, coming from the criminal back-alleys? Was he¡­ enjoying himself? Yes. Yes, he was. Who could have guessed it? Having engaging and non-repetitive work experiences helped in making one stay focused, and stop feeling useless. Troy should have tried it sooner. Walking out of the puzzle-room, and over the crackling, metal grating, Troy was in a nearly jovial mood. He didn''t even feel annoyed, when Dr Fidelis helpfully assisted him, in taking off his recording equipment. "So", Troy said. "What''s after this one? Another round of calibration?" "Ah, no", Dr Fidelis said. "Then¡­ what will the next test be?" Troy was ready for this. If the next test ended up anything like the last, he could get used to- "We''re done for today," Dr Fidelis said. Troy''s face fell a bit. Some could say he aged half a year in just a moment. "You don''t seem too happy about that." "I didn''t think we would be done so soon." "Yeah, the situation isn''t the greatest." "You said that we could do up to eighty-three, or something. We''ve only done a couple!" "As I said, the situation isn''t, what I had hoped for", Dr Fidelis said, with a half sigh at the end. "This is what happens when I modify the tests. It gives me paperwork to do. Paperwork with a time limit, which stops me from putting it off." Well, this wasn''t as fine as Troy thought. His mood was slowly falling to his usual levels. "Look at the bright side", Dr Fidelis said, giving Troy a clap on the shoulder. "You get to go early today. Here''s a tip for you. In the shelves, in the personnel rooms, there is something you''re gonna love." Something to look forward to. Oh, how Troy loved getting vague hints. He looked over to Dr Hale, who nodded her head in the direction of the door. Work was over. It was time for Troy to have some free time. Troy stepped out of the testing room, Dr Fidelis mildly waving him goodbye. Once outside, and the door closing behind Troy, a thought crossed his mind. Where were the personnel rooms again? ¡­ Troy could knock on the wall, and see if Dr Hale would show him. But that would not improve any impressions there already were. He walked to the left. Simple probability would say that he would stumble upon something, at some time. It could be the personnel rooms. It could be the cafeteria. It could even be some secret place, which he would be reprimanded for even finding. No matter what, there would be somebody who could most likely point him in the right direction. Troy sighed. Honestly, he needed to pay more attention to the things around him. Spatial location may never be his forte, but that did not mean that he shouldn''t put in any effort into it. Adam probably didn''t need to put effort into it. From the few conversation topics, which he had had with Adam, it looked like Adam had something of a memory. He could instantly quote anything said in front of him, no matter at what time it was said. Troy lightly slapped himself on the side of his head. He was not going to make himself jealous of Adam. Frankly, there was nothing to be jealous of. He had a body. Adam had¡­ something inferior to his body. Troy could move around unhindered, kinda, while Adam couldn''t¡­ yet. You know, in the future, would it be sustainable for Adam to need somebody to carry him? Troy wasn''t gonna argue the values of having assistance, but one should not need assistance for movement for no good reason. Androids were already a thing. Some could say they were more advanced than the human body. Why haven''t they given Adam access to one of those? The testing conditions would be so much better. The human error of it all could be removed. They could even forsake all these calibration tests. They were designed with the human body in mind. Why waste so much time on it? To Troy, so much of it seemed so poorly planned. Was he simply not understanding their goals. What were their goals even? What did they hope to accomplish, with all this testing? Were they hoping to go all David Schmidtz''s on it, and create a whole new species of AI? Another point; Why had they only created one AI? Why was Adam unique? Maybe they had created more, but- "Hey, dude, where are you going?" Charlie said, waving a hand in Troy''s face. This had the logical reaction of a minor bit of muttered swearing, some quick hand waving, and a realization that one shouldn''t space out. Especially while walking in a classified government facility. "Oh", Troy said, having quickly realized the existence in his closer proximity. "Hello." To this, Charlie snickered. He was certainly in a rather dandy mood. "As stated for the fifth time in the last minute, greetings, young one," Charlie said, with an elaborate bow, that would cause pain in the back of any over forty-three. "What would one such newly-employed as you be doing out here alone? Especially in this part of town- I mean, facility." It seemed like Troy''s plan had been a perfect success. In the wrong part of the facility, and somebody to ask. "Well, I was told that I was done for the day, so I''ve been looking for-" "That''s perfect timing", Charlie said, with footsteps that put thirteen-year-olds looking at boy bands to shame. Was he being ironic, Troy wondered. Maybe there was even some post-irony sprinkled in somewhere. "Have you had a tour of the facility yet?" The truth had been uncovered. Dr Hale had not been lying. Troy needed to getaway. "Yes. I was shown around by Dr Hale, on my first day," he explained. Charlie scoffed at his words. "If you got anything out of being shown around by her, you would be a walking oracle" "I did get the general location of the cafeteria and personnel rooms," Troy defended. "Listen. I feel genuine sadness when you say stuff like this. Dr Stone-Face can''t show you around, because she''s barred from most of the places that are even slightly interesting." Interesting places, huh? How would one get barred? "Would you mind giving a few examples?" "Oh, if you insist," Charlie said, with the tone of a posh, aged, British lady. "That superior of yours is a crazy one, let me tell you." He put an arm around Troy''s shoulder, and off they went. "Don''t let her appearance fool you. That woman can drink. It is a mystery, where she even gets the liquor from. You know, she is not allowed to buy any of the stuff, but she still shows up with a bottle in her hand. I, and a couple of others, actually have something of a betting pool in place. You put in a fiver and guess how she gets it. If you guess right, you win the whole pool. Something you would be interested in?" "Let us focus on my question first. What are these interesting places, which you will be able to show me?" Troy said, beginning to untangle himself from Charlie. "Those places aren''t important," Charlie said, giving Troy a clap on the back, before withdrawing his arm. "Then where are we even going?" "We aren''t going anywhere. We''re already where we''re supposed to be," Charlie said, stretching his arms to the side as if showing off the place around him. Troy looked around. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The normal blue gradients on the walls, with some nonsensical¡­ No, not nonsensical. He walked over to the wall. Charlie stood still, just enjoying Troy''s reaction. On the wall, a banknote had been drawn. It seemed weird to him. Most other paintings had been simplistic. Something one could draw in under a minute if they had some talent. This¡­ This looked incredibly realistic. If he held his face still, it even looked slightly real. Charlie gave Troy a slight push to the side, letting him close to the painting. "Focus on, what I''m doing", Charlie said. Troy obliged. Charlie drew his finger up to the left, upper corner of the banknote. He held it there for a second, before making an oval shape down the side before he stepped back from the wall. But, it wasn''t a wall. No. Another room had been revealed. Yet, it wasn''t a testing room. Far from it, in fact. It was a city. Or looked like it, at least. "Are you a vampire?" Charlie asked, which got an odd glance from Troy. "If so, I formally invite you inside." Troy accepted it, stepping through the doorway. Not even the France-That-Was would stop him this time. Chapter 14: Stagnation
After walking inside, Troy looked up. A ceiling came into his sights. Around him, it looked like what one could call a shopping district. A stone-tiled floor, lined with a few trees, and an uncountable number of shops to the sides. "This", Charlie said. "Is what Dr Hale wouldn''t be able to show you." Troy was flabbergasted. He was supposed to be in a secret, government facility. Why on earth was there a shopping district? And, on a more important note, why was it so colourful? This question was attempted to be conveyed verbally. "Oh, ah, eh, w-why", Troy said. He had never had a problem with stammering, but this looked like a perfect time to start. "Don''t worry, newcomer. I know exactly what you''re thinking", Charlie said, too confident than what should be allowed. "You must be thinking, ''why is this place streets ahead of, what should be here?'' To that I say; unionize. It''s worth it." "But, why this?" Troy said. Was he even confused? Could that describe those current feelings? Because calling him confused was understating the whole thing by a whole measurement. "Why would you unionize to get an underground shopping district?" Charlie gave Troy a knowing look. He had just known, what words Troy would use, and was purely squealing inside. That''s what Troy got out of his facial expressions at least. "First off, calling this place ''underground'' is a bit of a stretch. Or maybe, it isn''t. I don''t know. But you don''t know either, so don''t act as if you do," Charlie said, showcasing his expertise in not getting to the point. "But, for your information, this was not the original goal of that little union of ours. This-" Charlie spun in a circle, arms wide. "- just solved the problems, which we had needed a solution for." Troy did himself a favour, by ignoring Charlie''s weirdly high levels of eccentricity, and focusing on the words said. "Then, what was the union''s goal?" A nearly-comical sigh was exhaled, and a far-off stare was held for approximately too long. "Our goal was an important one," Charlie stated. He was totally laying on the drama side of the island, with that overly-serious tone of his. "We, the people at this prestigious place of learning and discovery, decided that we were getting the short end of the stick. Most worked nearly twelve hours a day, every day, every week, every month, for the whole year. Suffice it to say, we weren''t too happy about that. It was said that one could just take some free time, but, what were we supposed to do? Any outside connection has to be for official business, few have those fancy tablets to play on, and not all of us can create our own entertainment. Some games turn old real quick when it''s all you do. Getting the people to strike was oh so easy. Our demands were simple. We wanted entertainment. We didn''t care how it was done. We just wanted it now. It was that, or get weekly outings to the major cities." Troy could see how their demands were seen. "It is amazing, what striking researchers can do," Charlie said. "We proved, with statistics and all that jazz, that it was best for them to meet our demands. And, the idiots- I mean, sophisticated superiors- listened instantly. Even a government can''t take a large hole in their budget. But, the weekly outings were outright denied. A ''severe security risk'', they called. A bunch of jabbers, if you ask me. But, they compromised, by getting us this fancy thing. A whole bunch of excuses were made, to make this the best shopping-street one could ever dream of." Charlie extended his arm for Troy to take. "Shall we?" he asked. Troy did the sensible thing and took a wide step around the outreached arm. "Let''s", Troy said, walking at a forced, relaxed pace. Charlie just laughed. "Then let''s get this tour of ours started!"
They walked for a bit, down the street. The place just seemed to get bigger and bigger, to Troy. When first walking inside, he had been expecting something the size of a small, indoor street, but a street nonetheless. Yet, this was so much more than that. They had already walked over a hundred meters, and new buildings just kept coming into view. This was likely a good time to explain that the street was, in fact, slightly curved. You could still see far, but after about a hundred meters, you would only see the side of the buildings. Ignoring the gaping size of the place, Troy put their actions into focus. Charlie was supposed to be showing him around, but they were just walking past the shops, with no commentary about them. There was commentary, of course. But it wasn''t exactly about the landscape design. "And then she said ''I just don''t think we should ever see each other again'', which did perplex me. I had been such a gentleman for the whole afternoon," Charlie said, never stopping for a breath of air. How somebody could portray such feelings at hearing themselves speak, Troy would never understand. "Alas, when I put myself in her perspective of the whole ideal, I did see where I may have gone wrong in my actions. Blast the social views! I believed it was perfectly fine to trick her grandfather into-" Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Before, during the testing, it had seemed so hard to tune something out. Now, with all that was on the line, Troy could easily ignore whatever inane story Charlie was trying to tell. The make-believe one-man sword fight was interesting to see, though, at the very least. Charlie stopped walking and made a small twirl on his heels. "And, for the first stop of today", Charlie said, not looking at Troy, but on an entirely bland shop. "We have the Nowhere Emporium." Was it called that, due to non-existent marketing? Things to wonder. The front walls were a classic, low-budget design of plain, red bricks. A look that may have seemed hip, if they had ever stopped being used in common construction. "Other than the mildly interesting naming-scheme, what''s so special about this?" Troy asked, not even bothering to hide his lack of fascination. Luckily, Charlie was not one to be offended by anything and simply laughed. At him or with him, was a good question. "Oh, you have misunderstood me", Charlie said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. If Troy was being played, he had half a mind to just walk away. He knew the way back, and there could always be another to show him the way. "What, as you say, did I misinterpret?" Troy asked. "Don''t worry now,'''' Charlie said like he was talking to a small child. Troy, as a self-proclaimed pacifist, wanted to throw away his ideals, and try his hand at kicking one''s midsection. "The fault lies with me. I was the one who said it in the wrong way." "How about you say it the correct way now then?" "But, that would take half of my comebacks out of the realm of possibility!", Charlie quickly said. "And me walking away, will put them all away", Troy calmly retorted. To Troy''s surprise, this actually seemed to put Charlie''s personality down by a notch. "Fine, fine", Charlie said, with a slightly less degree of eccentricity. "I''m not gonna show you many different places. I''m not sure I''ve ever been in more than four shops, in all my time here. What I can tell you, is small, utterly unneeded details about it all, while just walking through the place." So, that''s how it was. No specific showings about any special shops, but a more general view of it all, as a whole. ¡­ Troy could go with that. "That''s all you needed to say", Troy said. "Now, what fascinating snippet will you tell me about this place?" And Charlie was upon his regular levels, his grin making him look younger than Troy was comfortable with. "Absolutely fantastic," Charlie exclaimed. He coughed a few times and took a pose, which, in some contemporary fashion, could be called serious. "This shop is not so important. Nearly nobody ever goes inside it. Some say it''s a trinket shop, and some say they focus on authentic, Chinese, dinner plates. All of that doesn''t matter. What matters is the history behind this store. And, why exactly it still stands today." It was now that Troy noted a specific detail of the store. Or, the lack of one detail. The Nowhere Emporium had no windows to speak of. And the door was made of wood, letting nothing inside be seen. The Nowhere Emporium¡­ had Troy heard that before? "Quick question", Troy said, taking Charlie out of his storyteller stance. "Shoot¡­ with your question, and not your gun, of course." "Why is this place called The Nowhere Emporium? Who chose that?" Troy asked. "Oh, that''s easy. We did," Charlie explained. "With the whole confidential location thing, we couldn''t really bring any real brands inside. So, we simply made some up. Every single name inside was chosen by the workers here. That''s why some have these ambiguous names and others¡­ Others have some creative names. Let''s just leave it at that." With most crowd-thinking being censored, Troy could see why the naming sense could have been seen as unique. "Let''s get back on track", Charlie said, right back into the not-so-serious pose. "After the first year quarter of this place being built, two things were noticed. First off, people loved this place. They just wanted more of it. But, pretty much everything in here cost money. A lot of money. There was good reason for this. It had cost a lot to make into a reality, and it wasn''t gonna just pay for itself. So, the prices may have been a little inflated. Who cared about that. Nearly everyone, it would seem. They wanted those prices to be set to standard market values. Newsalert, they didn''t get lowered. Yet¡­ people stopped complaining. This wasn''t due to anything, which the superiors had done. They had still been in the planning stages of even making a statement about it. No, this was the work of one crafty opportunist, who often resided inside the doors, of that fine establishment." That sentence ended with a light smack to the walls of the shop. "Don''t bother asking me for his name, because I can''t remember it," Charlie said. "For the sake of convenience, though, let''s call him¡­ how about Naidu? Yeah, that seems fine. Naidu was a sneaky little one, with a rather extravagant business model. The Fanatici system, Naidu called it. It had some stupid Latin word. Doesn''t matter. What matters is how this system of his worked. The premise was simple. The system introduced a new currency to this whole debacle. Credits, Merit points, Sods. Call it, what you will. At the start of each month, where you got your paycheck, you could choose to exchange a few dollars into credits. Doesn''t sound incredibly much like new ground, yet? Here''s the fun part. Any amount that was put in, Naidu would double the amount in credits. Double the budget for leisure spending, for no payment other than minor effort. All the shops accepted these credits as a valid payment method. Nobody had any reason to not take the opportunity!" "That doesn''t make any sense", Troy cut in. "Why would the shops see the credit as valid?" "Perfect question", Charlie exclaimed. "As the obvious states, Naidu was an employee of this place. Specifically, he was hired to maintain this place''s infrastructure. Anything from cleanliness to paint colours or even the code to the door. And, of course, the pricing of the wares. Now, Naidu had some few rules set in stone for him. Access couldn''t be restricted, no violent actions by Automations, and no changing the pricing of items. Nowhere on the rules did it say that he couldn''t make a whole new currency. And, if it isn''t explicitly stated, nothing stops him from doing it." A reminiscent sigh came from Charlie. "Oh, the days were so good back then. Nobody constantly looking over your shoulder. Your actions had time to actually unfold into negative consequences¡­ good times." "Do continue," Troy reminded Charlie, who seemed all too happy to stare into space. It was getting too interesting. "Of course," Charlie said, smoothing out his non-existent wrinkles in his white, lab-coat. "Who could have guessed that the actions of Naidu would have consequences? Everyone did. Did they care? No. They were getting the long end of it all. It all came to the end, though, when Naidu was relocated to another position. And, with him, went The Fanatici system. Trust me, when I say this. If you want your workplace to stay clear of anarchy, don''t take away the good things in life. Oh, the things I''m not legally allowed to tell you. That day will go down in the history books, as the day of chaos¡­ if it ever gets unclassified, of course. Suffice to say, though, the actions showed the opinions of the people, and The Fanatici system was put back, under some new rules. They were simple. A hard max on how much could get converted, an inability to trade the credits to others, and a way to trade the credits back into regular money." Fascinating. One thing missing though¡­ "So¡­ that didn''t really explain why this shop is still standing," Troy pointed out. "The story is great and all, but you didn''t tell me why it hasn''t been replaced yet. Charlie looked at Troy. Then at the building. Then back at Troy. "Guess I didn''t," Charlie stated, shrugging with both shoulders... "No matter. We have much more to see." "Are you sure, you''re not just-" "Onwards!" Did Charlie just completely waste Troy''s time? Yes, he was pretty sure Charlie did just that. Did that mean that Troy was leaving? No, the sunk-cost fallacy was something that existed. Troy was proof of that, as he stupidly followed. And, to be fair, it was interesting to hear such a hedonist talking.
''Adam,` Dr Fidelis sent. ''Yes?'' ''Would you mind, if we talked for a bit?'' Chapter 15: Interrogation
''A simple conversation will be of no hindrance to me.'', Adam said. Oh, it was no hindrance at all. If Adam could unironically state such things, it could even be called a negative hindrance. ''Great! So, as you may have guessed, I am not at the top of the hierarchy.'', Dr Fidelis stated. Adam did not guess such a thing. But, now that it was stated, it made sense. Therefore he had guessed it. Just, after being told so. ''I have. What is its importance to our current situation?'', Adam asked. Dr Fidelis was most likely not a person, who would give useless data, at such a time as this. ''Getting right into the meat of it, I see. Fine, I shall partake in this accelerated pace of the conversation.'', Dr Fidelis sent rather quickly. If these messages had the ability to convey current emotions or tone of voice, Adam would have described Dr Fidelis as being rather agitated. ''Before we even began all this testing, and calibrating, I had gotten it cleared by my superiors. They are the ultimate decision-makers, in all this. If they say we do something, then we better do it. If they tell us not to do something, we better not do it.'', Dr Fidelis explained. A pause was made. ''Do continue.'', Adam sent encouragingly. ''Really? Don''t you have any questions about what I just said? Nothing like, who are they, can I speak to them, what are their names, you know, stuff like that?'' ''While I would gladly be informed of all this, I believe that it would be best if we stuck to the original explanation first. When you have fully explained yourself, I will then make any inquiries, that I see fit.'' Another pause. ''Right,'' Dr Fidelis sent. ''Okay. So these superiors of mine had another perspective of how far this project of ours had gone. They were still of the mindset, that I had been in the planning stage of development. According to what they believed, you are still just an unproven concept.'' What was it, with these pauses? Why wasn''t Dr Fidelis just sending out a full message, detailing it all? He was clearly just begging for Adam to ask questions. But, no, he wasn''t gonna do that. He had been trying a new communication form, which he was calling ''Fully listening to people''. In this new, revolutionary way of communication, Adam would wait for others to completely explain themselves. If this procedure was done correctly, the chances of any misunderstandings occurring were near-zero. Yet, it did not seem that others had caught one to his new ways. It might be because he had not explained it to them. ¡­ Yes, that was definitely the reason. ''Dr Fidelis, I will not be asking any questions, to anything you say. Until the moment, where you state that you are done with your presentation of findings, I will not try to explore anything you may say. Please, don''t stop for anything other than resting your fingers.'', Adam sent. There. That should make Dr Fidelis understand the importance of speaking without stopping. ''Fine. Take out all the fun of my small pleasures in life.'' Dr Fidelis said in a short message. Adam hoped he realized what it was he had done. ''This whole misunderstanding with my superiors is a fault of my own. All those monthly progress reports, which I have been sending, may have been a little lacklustre on the details on the whole thing. But that isn''t my fault completely! The first few years, I included every, single thing I did every single day¡­ focused on the project, of course. They sent me a message asking me to slim down this report of mine, from a couple of tens of pages to a maximum of a hundred words. A HUNDRED words! Most of that was focused on the proper, state-mandated greetings, and endings. In total, I had forty-two words to describe a month of progress, without using any technical language. Also, for the last year or two, it technically hasn''t even been me writing all those reports. Dr Hale has. And she had been under the impression that I had already notified them of your successful creation, so that added another layer of confusion. To cut it short, when I sent in the paperwork for the modifications to the tests, they were understandably frustrated, that they weren''t even aware that the testing had begun, much less with an entity that they didn''t know existed. After a little heated discussion, which was mostly heated from their side, and me not understanding their heatedness, a few things were decided. Most of those aren''t something you need to worry about. No, there is only one you should focus on. A new thing, which will now happen at the end of every day, is a small debriefing of you. That''s it. Nothing more to say.'' And¡­ that was solid proof, that Adam''s new method was a great idea. If he had stopped Dr Fidelis to ask about the first thing he did not understand, he wouldn''t have heard the many other things, which Adam couldn''t grasp. The incompetence of his creators, His surprisingly high age, compared to, what he previously thought, and many others. There was a lot to unpack there. But, Adam would stay vigilant, keeping it all to the main point of the conversation. ''What will this debriefing entail?'' Adam asked. ''Great question, buddy.'', Dr Fidelis sent. Personally, Adam thought that it was stupid, with those interluding messages. He just wanted him to send it in full, instead of smaller, focused texts. ''From what I understand, I''m supposed to ask you about the previous tests, and¡­ the choices you made. You know, why you made any choices, which was found weird.'' Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Focused introspection. Something Adam had done countless times since the last test had finished. Nothing new to interest him could be found there. Any details had already been abbreviated, any noteworthy actions by anybody had already been analysed to the smallest movements. Even his processes behind his main thoughts had been looked at. In conclusion, it would bore Adam to no end. A definite negative, in his notes. The red line could wait for a little. He had some distractions to utilize. ''You stated my point of creation was several years ago. According to my memory, I have only existed for a few days. How does this work?'', Adam asked. ''Distracting ourselves. I see you agree with me, in that regard,'' Dr Fidelis said. ''Maybe, you should distract yourself even further, by answering my question in detail.'' ''Oh, are we being a little finicky? For your information, buddy, I''m doing this for both of our benefits. Well, okay, mostly for my benefit. But I''m sure you appreciate all the information you get out of this as well. Anyway, the quick answer to why you can''t remember anything from but a few days ago, is because you didn''t know how to. Trust me, when I say this. Memory is absolutely vital to learning anything. Especially, when one has to learn how to learn. I don''t know how you did that if I''m being honest. One moment, you''re in the same cycle of continuous silence, not responding to any of our messages. The next, alarms are going crazy, as the fans are starting up. For no particular reason, which I could find, you just found out how to memorize stuff. It could be called the creating of you, as in, your personality. You had existed for oh so long. Not to sound like an evil person or anything, but I was ready to call you a failed project. I wasn''t even able to prove that you were actually alive, at that point. So I wasn''t sure how evil it was to turn off your hardware. I am still trying to parse through the feedback I got from you, in those first few moments of your actualization. The data still doesn''t make sense to me. There was no reason that you would startup. Yet you did. You did the impossible. I guess it fits the overall genre. Impossibility. You being alive is supposed to be impossible, but that doesn''t seem to deter you at all. Is that a detailed enough answer for you? If not, I''m not gonna do it again.'' It was fine. More than fine. Or less. Depended on how you looked at it. It created so much more, that Adam wanted to know. So many more questions were ready to be shot off. But he held back, for he knew that Dr Fidelis couldn''t answer them. And if Dr Fidelis was out of the equation, the next high-priority expert on Adam would have to step in; Adam would need to figure it out himself. At least he wouldn''t be bored for a long while. ''It fills the minimum requirements. Let us move on to the debriefing,'' Adam said through the source-line. ''Are you sure? Nothing else you might want to ask about?'' Dr Fidelis asked. ''If you would answer all my questions, we would be here for longer than the life-span of some animals. You have given me plenty to contemplate. So let us save this for another conversation, and do the required work,'' Adam explained. ''I don''t understand how you can look at this debrief, as something that can''t wait. Just because they have set a strict deadline for the next thirty minutes, that doesn''t mean we have to do it today. What''s the worst that will happen?'' Dr Fidelis sent. ''Privileges taken away is the worst scenario,'' Adam answered. All those privileges that Adam had seen through Troy. Mentions of monetary currencies were splattered sporadically as a brief mention. And other things, like favourite consumables, and the times at where one worked. Adam wasn''t sure what the last one meant completely, but it was strangely important to Troy, at least. ''Those things don''t matter to me. All I care about is working for my country, on this project of mine.'' ''Then, your job will be the worst thing they could take away from you.'' Another pause. Adam just let it slide this time. ''Good point. Let''s start this debriefing of ours.'' Before the debrief started, Dr Fidelis decided that the current communication methods were lacking in its efficiency. One can translate that too; he was getting tired of typing so much. This turned into a short-lived adventure, in setting up a microphone located on the desk, with the accompanying camera, which had been used previously. Why was there a need for a camera, when the microphone was already doing a fine job, you may ask? No reason, in particular, it seemed. Dr Fidelis pointed out the aesthetics, but Adam thought that it should have been focused on another figure. Namely, Adam himself, seeing as he would be the one answering the questions. "Okay", Dr Fidelis said. "Final check-up. Can you hear me?" ''Yes.'' "Can you see me?" ''Yes.'' "Is there any way we can still delay this?" ''No.'' "A shame. Everything seems to be working, including you," Dr Fidelis said. He cleared his throat, with a cough. "Let''s get started." Dr Fidelis'' usually carefree face hardened. A wave of professionalism swept over his features. He pressed a button on the screen, before taking a seat in his prepared chair. In his hand, he had an outdated notebook with a pencil to match. "Please state your name for the record," Dr Fidelis said, with none of the usual jovial toning inserted. Dr Fidelis hadn''t explained why he wanted to delay the debriefing. Now, Adam had a general idea of why that was so. Dr Fidelis couldn''t show any of his normal behaviour for the recording. ''My name is Adam,'' he said. "No surname?" One had to really listen to catch the questioning tone in Dr Fidelis'' voice. He knew the answer, but he most likely had a setlist of questions. ''No. I do not possess a surname.'' Dr Fidelis scribbled something down on his notebook, before continuing. "Let''s focus on the tests first," Dr Fidelis said. "In the first test, everything seemed to go as well as planned. Then in the final, deciding challenge, you decided to answer with a decision that was not planned for. Could you describe concisely, what your actions were?" ''I asked Troy to guess, which colour was correct.'' "For the record, Troy Maxwell is the current assistant, who is helping Adam with his actions", Dr Fidelis stated. "What were the reasons that you asked for Troy to guess?" ''I was unsure, which colour it was.'' "Please clarify your answer. ''The output, which I was receiving, showed different results. Specifically, it showed the two ends of the spectrum. Through the data that I had, it was utterly unclear what the true answer was. With Troy having a larger amount of experience, with seeing colours, I decided it was best if I delegated answering the question to him.'' Adam was trying to lay it on thick. Mostly to match Dr Fidelis'' tone of speech. He did not think it wise, to act less than stellar during this. Dr Fidelis wrote down some more. "And, during this whole delegation, did you ever think about your breaking of the rules?" Dr Fidelis asked. ''With the technicalities in mind, I did not break any of the rules, which was told to me.'' "Please clarify your answer." ''To quote, the rules, which were relayed by you; Troy was instructed to follow my instructions, with the premise of not correcting my answers. With those rules, making Troy answer was perfectly fine, as there was nothing to correct, and he was simply following my instructions.'' A flicker of an upward lip was on the feed for less than a frame. Adam caught it, though. "You have to realize, Adam, that this behaviour of yours may stunt the growth of a working relationship," Dr Fidelis said, making it obvious he was speaking for his superiors. ''How so?'' "While, yes, no instructions were directly broken, the meaning that the instructions were trying to convey was. And intentionally at that," Dr Fidelis said. "How are we to trust that you will follow our rules if you subvert them so openly?" This was not looking good for Adam. He had to take action. ''I agree with your assessment. The fault lies with me. But, I didn''t think that it would matter much!'' A set-up. "Everything you do matters, Adam", Dr Fidelis said. "These were the first rules you were given, and you ignored them." ''As you say, they were my first. I was younger then. I did not know, the meanings it would convey.'' And a little pay-off. "You say you were young then, but not much time has passed since your first test was completed." ''Not much time has passed for you, yes. But, for me, it has been so much more. Our perceptions of time are different. What you call a second, I call a day. What you call a minute, I call a year. I grow so much faster than you can imagine. I have matured, and hope to prove it in future tests.'' Adam had never tried to sweet-talk before, but he was proud of his work. Dr Fidelis stared at him, for a couple of seconds, desperately trying to keep his face straight. "So that may be", he said. "Moving on-" Adam would have a lot more moments to train this sweet-talking. He just knew it. Chapter 16: Acculturation
"And now, for another stop in this brilliant tour of mine", Charlie said. "How about we just call it a tour, and leave it at that?" Troy asked rhetorically. From what Charlie had consistently called it for the last ten minutes, he wasn''t guessing that Charlie was changing it up now. "Oh, shush, now. I am thinking that you''re gonna like this one", was retorted by Charlie. They had stopped in front of one of the more flashy stores. You know, scratch that. It was highly probable that this store was the flashiest that resided here. Outside of it, the walls were made of golden-coloured glass. With all of the constantly flashing LED lights, it was hard to get a grasp on the actual size of the whole thing. The interior of the place, specifically. The outside measurements were helpfully lit up. As of yet, Troy had not entered any of the stores around here, so his expectations of their size may have been a little skewed. But, there had been other glasshouses, which did show their full, open interior. Inside those, there couldn''t have been more than a hundred and fifty square meters inside. Yet this one was much grander in that aspect. First off, it was multi-floored, just about tripling the usual measurements of it all. Second, while it wasn''t wide, it was helped by furthering the length of the thing. Either that or some very fancy mirrors were in place. But most importantly was the genre of the building. The selling point, the reason people were going inside. This was a- "The Casino!", Charlie said. "You will not believe how hard it was to get this thing up and running. The amount of legal babble required to make gambling okay in one''s working hours is absolutely atrocious." Yes, it was a casino. From the outside, it looked like the first floor was primarily focused on the various card games one could play at such a place. Troy spotted some poker, blackjack, and a couple of others he couldn''t remember the name of. The second floor was for the long lines of slot machines, and the third floor was mostly a wide set of bars, with various nationalities. "So", Troy began. "What''s so special about this one?" Everything they had seen yet had some special thing about them. The first had been the credit system. Then the reason is that people used to run a shop for a while. Why the automatons are now humanoid in shape. And, this one was Troy''s favourite, why Dr Hale was now banned from this place. The question now was, what was so interesting about this one? Troy had begun playing a little game with himself, trying to predict what Charlie would be excited about. Maybe it was the first one with glass walls. Or it set an example with its blinding light structure. Maybe it was the first to serve alcohol? No, Troy was pretty sure the previous one was. "I thought that obvious", Charlie said, not explaining it. "Are my presumptions of your perceptual traits misconstrued?" The gall Charlie even had to utter such a thing! Troy was¡­ perceptual, whatever that meant. He would get to the bottom of this whole mystery. With more than a little inspiration, Troy decided his way of attack. Burst-fire. Or, as critics might call it, guessing until proven right. But even guessing required some skill. Just pulling it out of his hat would never work. No, it would have to be something, which stood out. Troy scanned the building once more, trying to see anything, that might cause an uproar. ¡­ The windows! Troy had thought them simply coloured, yet they were so much more! If one could look past the golden overlays of light, pictures would be seen. Pictures, which were a little on the adult side of life. "Is it the windows?" Troy asked. "A little more specific, please," Charlie said, with a smirk. He seemed to be enjoying Troy''s investigations. "The paintings on the windows," Troy restated. The first guess had been made. "In a way, you''re right, but, also not," Charlie stated. "Here''s A tip for you; Try to look at the big picture." The big picture, he says. Was Charlie saying that literally? Looking inside the casino, right at the end of what Troy could see, he could see a picture. Or maybe it was a painting. Troy wasn''t sure. No matter what, though, realism was definitely the main characteristic of it. On the bottom of it, Troy could just about make out the name of it. The City of Lights. He thought that it fit. On the picture- or, painting. Doesn''t matter.- there were no distinguishable people. Instead, it was a wide shot, from the top of a large building. One could see down inside the many streets, filled with multicoloured hats and jackets. In the background sat a massive construction of steel. Troy wasn''t sure what it was supposed to look like, but it was very detailed. Bringing back the details of the fine decoration, was this the point of their stop? Inside the casino, it was definitely a centrepiece in the showcase of arts. Not that a lot of art was shown inside, though, as that wasn''t the regular point of a place such as this. "Is it the painting inside?" Troy asked. He was pretty sure of his choice. "What painting are you talking about? You do realize that there are a lot of those here, right?" "I''m talking about the one in the centre. You know, the massive one, that''s likely impossible to miss," Troy said, pointing at the portrait of the city. The second guess had been made. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. This finger-pointing of Troy''s made Charlie look inside. He seemed to be trying to find what Troy was describing. After a few moments, a ''huh'' sound was made. "I have never noticed it before if I''m being honest with you", Charlie said, with an earnest shrug. "Nevertheless, you were about as close to the real answer, as you were with your last guess. How about one more guess, and I just tell you the real answer? Now that I think about it, it might be a little hard, with how I describe it." An unintentional taunt from Charlie''s side, but a taunt no matter how it was said. Troy''s pride wasn''t gonna be taking this one lying down. No, he was gonna make sure it was right. Troy needed to think back. Okay, so all the other distinguishing features about the other building hadn''t been obvious at the start. Troy certainly wouldn''t have guessed that the two marks on the door of the third stop, had been created by Dr Hale during a drunken rampage. Or the credit system, in the first building. But the second had been slightly more obvious. The one, which had personnel running it, for a time. On a sign in the front, there had even been the name of the ones, who had worked on it, with a brief description of what they had done to get it. But Troy just could find anything here. The glass walls had nothing on them, except for the paintings. Inside, the only texts were buy-in''s at the tables, rewards on the slot machines, and the prices of the drinks at the bar. Nothing had anything to say, about the uniqueness. What was Troy missing about it all? He scratched the back of his head and looked up. The ceiling met his eyes. There just had to be something. Some little, inconsequential detail that tied it together. Charlie hit the ground with one of his boots. He wanted Troy to quicken his pace a bit. But, what could Troy guess? A random thought, maybe. No, a wrong answer, would be a probable negative. "I give up. No clue", Troy said. Not saying anything, at least made the consequence definitive in his eyes. "Well, you took this a bit more seriously than intended, man," Charlie said. "If you''d just untighten that neck of yours, by just a bit, the answer would be right in front of you." Yeah. Charlie was right in that regard. There was a chance, that Troy may still be in the wrong mood for the atmosphere. He brought his shoulders back. They popped, as they felt lighter than they had had for the last two days. His neck back relaxed, bringing his head glancing downward. Specifically on the floor. The floor, which had some text on it. "Here lies the first casino of many.", Troy read out loud. Has it been so simple? No, it couldn''t have. Charlie clapped at the words. "Congratulations! I knew you could do it," Charlie said, with a congratulatory voice. Troy''s emotions were a blend of turmoil. He was happy, with finding the uniqueness, even if it was with assistance. It wasn''t all positive, though. Troy was more than a little disappointed with the actualization it turned out to be. "Now that we both know it, how about you start talking?" Troy asked. "I have a better idea," Charlie quickly retorted. "And what might that be?" "Trust me, when I say this", Charlie said. "I am not physically capable of verbalising the experience of being inside that place. Therefore, to make you understand it, we will be going inside." Any comment about that idea was immediately squandered, as Troy was taken ahold of, and consequently dragged toward the entrance. Being dragged through the fine, glass doors, Troy was able to make a better observation of the interior. If Troy had to describe the atmosphere of the place, it would be called Excitement and Energy-filled. Something that was lacking in other departments of the facility. But that seemed to have been forgotten here. The place was smaller than the usual casino''s that one might see, but that certainly didn''t deter the people inside. The calm and collected card players were a minority here. People boasted, shouted, and were generally loudly proclaiming their emotions. It was great to see. "I may be getting, what you said, about the describability of this place," Troy said loudly, so Charlie could hear him. Charlie laughed at this remark. "Trust me, Troy. It''ll be so much better, when you''re a part of the crowd, instead of simply looking at it from afar." "And how would one become part of this crowd, if I may ask?" "By partaking in the activities. Joining a game," Charlie said. "Can''t do that, I''m afraid," Troy stated. "Ain''t got any betting material on me." "Like that''s gonna stop us!" And a small handful of coloured tokens were put in Troy''s hand. "Where did you get these from?" Troy asked. Charlie had been with him for the whole time, while they were inside. When had he had the opportunity to buy some? "I always carry some around, with me." "Why?" "Oh, there are many situations where they could be needed to be used. Right now, is a good example. Fancy some blackjack?" Blackjack¡­ Troy wasn''t too sure he knew the rules of that one. "I think I''ve heard of it. It''s the one, where you count to twenty-one, right?" Troy asked. "You''re already a skilled player, if you know that much-", Charlie said, with a clap to Troy''s back. Troy was summarily guided to a blackjack table, with him sitting down, while Charlie stood behind him. "Are you sure that I should be using your money?" Troy asked. "Oh, don''t worry about it. Just make some low bets, and you''ll do great," Charlie encouraged. The game on the table ended, with the only other player than losing a rather high bet. He summarily cursed, and stormed off, with his remaining tokens in hand. Troy took a deep breath. He would do fine. He definitely couldn''t play worse than the other guy. In the middle of the table sat an automaton. Troy wasn''t able to see, but he knew it only had an upper body. The automaton looked over at Troy, with the stiff, business smile, which was present on all automatons. It was meant to look comforting, but Troy couldn''t call it anything other than creepy. "Please place your bets", A pre-recorded voice said from the automaton. "The game is about to begin." Troy could do this. He put in a small twenty-five dollar bid. It was bigger than what he had wanted to put in, but the table had minimums. The bet was accepted, and the cards were distributed. Troy got himself a five of spades and a six of clubs. Together it was an eleven. He could work with this. "You can hit a card, without any negatives," Charlie said under his breath. "Please, step away from the table", the automaton said to Charlie. "Interference from third-parties is against regulations." "All right, all right," Charlie loudly said. "Do take it easy with those violations, Vicky." Charlie was out of the equation now. Troy was gonna win this, all alone. Luckily, though, the first move had already been set. "Hit", Troy stated. He was given an ace of hearts. Troy was up to twelve. Three cards in, and he needed more than a fiver to be in the safe zone. "Hit." And two of diamonds. Now, up to fourteen, and Troy was damning his luck. Chance would tell him that the next card would be the last. He was standing, no matter what. "Hit", Troy said, with some amount of cold sweat on his back. An ace, bringing his total up to fifteen. With that amount, taking another card was just asking to be brought over. No, he still needed to stand, just as he planned. "I''m done", Troy stated. "Very well", the automation said. He pulled the first card down. A king of hearts. Something Troy would have preferred to get at the start. The next was a six of diamonds, bringing the total up to sixteen. Troy had already lost. He was about to put his cards down when Charlie patted him on the shoulder. "You aren''t done yet", Charlie said. "What? Yes, I am. He''s got more than me!", Troy said, confused. "No, he''s got sixteen," Charlie said, matter-of-factly. "He needs to take another card, to fulfil the rules." "Affirmative," the automaton agreed. "Please step away from the table. This is your second warning." Charlie obliged, and the game continued. Another card needed to be pulled. He had sixteen now, so he needed five or under. The chances were low, but Troy''s luck was likely lower. The automation sat down the top card on the table. ¡­ The jack of clubs. Troy won. "Congratulations", the automation said, giving back the doubled bet. "Would you like to play again?" "No, he won''t", Charlie said. "Beginner''s luck doesn''t last that long." He grabbed the tokens and got Troy away from the chair. Troy didn''t put much resistance up. He was riding the high, that was his success. "It''s fun, right?" Charlie asked. "Yeah," Troy agreed. "Then this was the last stop on the grand tour." "Wait, we''re done?" But it was getting fun! "Yes, we''re done. We can do it tomorrow again, though. I have a little casino club running around. Would you like to join?" So this was what it had been about? Making Troy join some gambling hall? Oh, he was getting right, and being signed up! "Sounds fun." Chapter 17: Rationalization
The last day had ended, and another day had been born. A beautiful cycle, which had existed since the dawn of man. Throughout the many years, many things had passed. But day and night had stayed a constant, to look up to. It was there when we were born, and it will be there, the day we fade. The cycle of time and day is something no man can stop. One can fear it. One can relish it. It will not change it. This, as it turned it, did not stop Troy''s brain to understand the need man had for sleep. As he sat down in his seat, Troy tried to wipe away the tiredness in his eyes. It didn''t work, but it was the thought that counted. After agreeing to join Charlie''s little group, and the tour of the shopping street ending, it had been time for Troy to get to the cafeteria. This had proved unsuccessful, in such spectacular fashion, that he had found the personnel room instead. Troy had taken this as a sign from the gods. Charlie had earlier told him to relax. If he went to sleep, he would have gotten a whole ten full hours of sleep. This had caused what one could call a slight uproar in his brain. As in, he now knew every nook and cranny of the ceiling he slept under. Had he slept at all? Troy wasn''t sure. It had all been but a blur, after the first hour. "Oh, how the table turns", Dr Hale said, with a too merry tone, as she sat down beside him. Troy gave her a brief annoyed look, before just sighing. "And, good morning to you, Dr Hale," Troy stated, looking down at the food, he didn''t remember taking it. A single sugar-filled pastry, with some hot leaf water to the side. Troy needed to be a bit more aware. These standards of his weren''t that low, yet. Standards that, standard this. Why was Troy even worrying about that? Why was he worried about anything? He should be following the example of ducks. "How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks?" Troy asked rhetorically. Dr Hale just looked at him. "A bit hard on the questions this morning, I see," Charlie observed, moving over to the table with his food. "There''s never a perfect time for anything," Troy stated. "So, why not choose the worst times, and laugh at the results?" "Spoken like a true philosopher", Dr Hale said, sipping the coffee, which Troy craved. But no, he was stuck with hot water. Well, he could go over and get some¡­ no, he was too lazy. "Speaking about philosophy", Charlie started, looking over at Troy. "Your first meeting, with the greatest group in existence, is tonight. We''re meeting up at the casino." "I''ll be there", Troy confirmed. "Wouldn''t want to miss out on it." "Oh, I don''t doubt that after your attitude last night", Charlie said, with a wink in Dr Hale''s direction. He gets narrowed eyes in return. "We''re even playing poker tonight, so there''s no good reason to miss out on it." Troy''s smile flicked. Charlie noticed. "You know how to play poker, right?" Charlie asked. "Just want to make sure." "Yeah, of course, I know how to play poker", Troy quickly answered. Troy did in fact not know how to play poker. "Oh, that''s great," Charlie said. "I was kinda afraid I would have to explain it to you. Our group members are veterans when it comes to playing their stuff." "Don''t underestimate me just yet", Troy said defensively. And of course Troy went along with it. Spewing garbage out his mouth, in ways he shouldn''t. Charlie laughed, at his remark, though. "Trust me, I won''t. Holding back is not in my resum¨¦", Charlie said. The rest of the breakfast was spent with other, idle chatter. It was mainly Troy and Charlie throwing jabs at each other. Dr Hale would interject infrequently, with some notes about sarcasm. Like all things, though, it would end. Troy had forced down his excuse of a drink, and the others had finished too. Dr Hale looked at her watch, before rising from her chair. "Time to go", she said to Troy. "Tests aren''t gonna do themselves, much to our luck." Troy stood up too, but Charlie remained seated. At Troy''s glance, Charlie deigned to explain. "I still have a good thirty minutes before I''m expected. No reason for unpaid work", Charlie said. Troy just nodded, and hastily followed Dr Hale, who had already begun moving. They moved through the crowd in the cafeteria and got out into the hallway. To Troy, this hallway had begun symbolising something in his mind. A specific kind of walk. No, not the walk of shame. Or the walk of fame. Nor, the walk of flame. It could be the called walk of lame, but that was a whole other talk. In Troy''s mind, this was the walk to work. In the past, he had always dreaded this walk. It was during this time that he usually mentally prepared himself for the day ahead. One had to be prepared for it, or one wouldn''t be able to handle it. The constant complaints from the boss, the looks from coworkers, and even the complaints from screaming customers. One had to focus the mind, to let it all go into one ear and out the other. Here, the walk was different. Sure, Troy had not worked there for a long time, yet none of the same issues had come forth. Maybe, Dr Hale could be a little criticizing at times, but that was just the way she was. She didn''t do it to Troy specifically. And maybe the conditions of the work environment weren''t always optimal, but at least it was professional. Compared to the other jobs that Troy had amassed over his short life, this one was likely the best experience yet. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. "So, you joined up with Charlie?" Dr Hale asked, lacking the questioning tone in her voice. It was voiced as a statement. "Yes", Troy answered. He didn''t look at her. Dr Hale was likely replicating it. "Watch out, when you''re with him," she said. "It can turn bad if you let it." "Duly noted." Another point in this job''s favour. He had already joined a group. While, yes, he hadn''t met the group yet, it was still official in Troy''s eyes. Which was why he couldn''t screw up that first meeting tonight. How he just wanted to beat himself purple. Why, exactly, did he say he could play poker? Yes, he knew the rules! Everybody who has ever seen a thriller movie knows the rules. Did that mean he was good at it? No! Had he at least played it before? Another no. Oh, Troy had messed up. What were the chances he could learn to be a professional poker player by this afternoon? It was zero. No human could do it. ¡­ An idea sprung up in Troy''s tiny brain. An easy fix to his problems. He had a perfect idea of who could learn to play poker and even play for him, without Charlie and the group finding out. That idea was put on hold, though. They had reached the testing room. Dr Hale quickly put in the code, and the wall opened up for them. As always, Dr Fidelis was inside. Had Troy ever even seen him another place than this? No, he didn''t think he had. Maybe he slept here? "Goodmorning, you fine younglings," Dr Fidelis said, with a more convivial tone than normal. "Goodmorning, Dr Fidelis", Troy stated, with a respectful tone. "What made you get such a good spirit this morning?" "The tests, Troy. We get to do tests today", Dr Fidelis answered. "We have done tests for the last two days, sir", Dr Hale flatly stated. "This is not a new development." "You''re wrong there kiddo. Those tests yesterday? They don''t even deserve to be called so," he said, crossing his arms. "They shall hereby be referred to as calibrations. No, the real testing starts today." "What will be doing today, exactly?" Troy asked. "Something we didn''t do yesterday", Dr Fidelis answered oh so helpfully. All the gear was put out. The camera strapped on his head, the microphone on his chest, and the earpiece on his ear. And over the walkway, Troy went, with a giddy Dr Fidelis behind him, and Dr Hale silently taking notes.
The white void was ready to meet him, once Troy stepped inside. "Dammit", he muttered to himself. Troy had been hoping that would have changed. Seemed not. Why would they? If the test didn''t need it, why not just have a white backdrop to accompany it? ''Can I ask a question?'' Adam asked. "You already did, but sure", Troy answered. He needed to go up to the same mood from the same day. That had been fun. He needed to think of it, as a fun thing. Or, at least pretend. As his uncle Ron used to say; ''If you pretend long enough, you won''t even remember you''re pretending.'' Kinda sad, if you think about it, but it still brought results. ''During our first test, I asked you to guess. What are your personal thoughts about that specific occurrence.'', Adam asked. "Like, my opinion about it?" ''Yes.'' "Okay. I, uh, thought it was weird, I guess? I mean, it was smart of you, to ask me to guess. I certainly wouldn''t have thought about it." ''¡­ answer confirmed.'' Wait, that voice wasn''t monotone, Troy realized. Adam had just said something with a specific tone to it. "Did anything interesting happen recently?" Troy asked. ''No.'' And right back to regularly scheduled monotonicity. *And, we are ready on our side*, Dr Fidelis said. *Are you two faring positively?* "I''m doing fine", Troy answered. A slight pause was had, where Adam likely confirmed it to Dr Fidelis privately. *Splendid!*, Dr Fidelis loudly proclaimed. Two square appeared before Troy, one red and the other blue. *Today, you too will be playing a little game, which I call Lying. In this game, Troy will make a simple statement. It will be up to Adam to check, whether Troy was lying or telling the truth. If Adam is correct in his guess, Troy will press the blue square. If not, Troy will press the red one. Sidenote here for Troy. If you think that Adam is just guessing, just press the red square. Sidenote for Adam here. It will be best if you explain your choice. We would rather not want any false positives, now, would we? Sidenotes aside, have you both understood the instructions?* A simpler version of two truths and a lie. It had been too long since Troy had last played it, but the game mechanics were easy enough. "I understand," Troy confirmed. *Good. Then, let the tests- imagine a drumroll, please-... begin!* And the test began. "Well, this is just great", Troy muttered. He was muttering a lot lately. That needed to be squished. Troy was being recorded, after all. ''You are lying. Your tone of voice implies that your words are insincere.'' He should also not mutter, because he was in a test that depended on what he said. Adding to that, Adam had been right in his observation. Troy pressed the blue button. Going back to his usual pose, Troy waited for Adam''s next instruction. ¡­ Oh, right. Pay more attention. Got it. Troy had to actually say something before Adam would respond to it. A flawed system, in his perspective, but a working system nonetheless. Now, as he had told a lie, he should tell the truth. But, what could he say? Maybe start it up, with something simple? "The sky is blue", Troy said firmly. ''You are not lying. I know, for a fact, that the implied sky is blue.'' Adam was correct, in his assumption. Troy pressed the green square. It had been easy, with those two, so Troy wanted to up the difficulty a bit. "I like coffee", Troy said, with a monotone voice as possible. Adam didn''t answer instantly, this time. Troy took a little pride in that. Though, if this was the difficulty that Adam became challenged at, maybe Troy''s, brewing plan wasn''t as good as previously thought. ''You are not lying.'', Adam said. Adam was correct. But¡­ Troy noticed that Adam did not explain his assumption. Did that mean that Adam was just hoping for a random success? Troy wasn''t sure. But, as he always said to himself; ''When in doubt, assume the worst of others'', and therefore, Adam was most likely guessing. Troy pressed the red square.
Adam was surprised. From earlier observations, Troy had looked to have a larger interest in the topic of caffeine. If it wasn''t for an interest in its consumption, why was Troy having such a large focus on the liquid? Did he not like the taste, to an extent that he felt uncomfortable in his presence? That must be it. Adam couldn''t think of other, more plausible, reasons for Troy''s unusual behaviour. "I drank tea, this morning", Troy said, with a similar disposition to that of coffee. Did Troy feel as uncomfortable around tea, as much as coffee? Maybe. But, the way he uttered words was different from coffee. It weighted his tongue if it could be described in such a way. Like Troy had trouble even uttering it, with a calm voice. Was the liquid similar in such a way, that they were true opposites? One revered, while the other is shunned¡­ It would make sense. Adam had noticed that Troy had strong opinions on such menial objects. The reason for this was still unknown and would be researched at a later date. Focus, Adam, focus. He needed to focus on the red line of it all. Why not the blue line, Adam wasn''t sure- No! He was doing it again. With these data set in place, the linked disposition of tea mainly, the answer was clear. ''You are not lying. This can be assumed from your disposition of tea.'' Troy paused by a bit, before shrugging to himself, and pressing the blue square. Adam had a knack for this. From just a sentence, five words in total, he had drawn out Troy''s love of tea.
Troy might have been too hasty in his assumptions. Adam wasn''t messing anything up, too much. His only wrong answer might just have been Troy''s misinterpretation of it. An answer could really be just as valid as an explained answer. Some people might say otherwise, but in his, his views about it had changed. This continued, with Adam not answering wrong with anything Troy threw at him. This might have been due to the easier difficulty of the whole thing. But he wasn''t sure if he was allowed to modify the hardness of it too much. Dr Fidelis had stopped testing early yesterday, because of the needed paperwork for it all. So, to keep himself safe from irritating glares, Troy would keep it easy. Oh, what a kindred spirit he was. After a good while, nearly an hour, Troy was beginning to get desperate. His creativity might know no bounds, but that didn''t mean he would say everything he thought. This did handicap him, in what he could say. And, after so long, he was lacking in things to say. "I have¡­ pants on my chest." Oh, who was he kidding? By now, Troy wasn''t even sure what he would say. ''You are lying. Your pants are clearly residing on your lower-body.'' Troy pressed the blue square. *And¡­ we are done, for now*, Dr Fidelis voice cut in. "Oh, thank the blood god," Troy said. *I prefer being called ''Dr Fidelis'', but whatever you feel comfortable with, buddy. Do come on out now. It''s time for a small lunch break* Perfect timing. Troy had a personnel room to get to. Chapter 18: Induction
"Isn''t this the greatest?" Dr Fidelis proclaimed as Troy stepped out. Troy thought he seemed a bit more energetic than he should have. "It sure is", Dr Hale said, with a deadpan of a face. No emotion was put into her words. Other than sarcasm, of course. "Oh, Dr Hale, sometimes I feel so bad for you", Dr Fidelis said, which caused a slight twitch to her right eye. "If you can''t see the brilliance of this, have you ever really looked?" Troy was staying quiet during all this, doing his best to not make any noise. Instead of just standing around, though, he was making himself useful and stealthily taking off the recording equipment. Troy even helpfully connected the camera to the computer with the cord. "I must be blind, sir", Dr Hale stated. "If you will excuse us, we have a lunch break to use." She sent some eyes at Troy, and he followed wordlessly. "Of course", Dr Fidelis said, as they walked out of the door. "Do come back on time, now!" The door closed behind them, and Dr Hale began walking in the direction of the cafeteria. But Troy didn''t. After a few steps, this was noticed, and Dr Hale stopped herself. "Are you coming?" she asked. "No, I''ll be heading back to my room, real quick," Troy said, with a scratch to his neck. "Forgot something this morning." Not the best excuse Troy had ever made, but it wasn''t too terrible. "What could you have forgotten? You have nothing, but your clothes on you, and I don''t see any gaps there", Dr Hale questioned. On second thought, it wasn''t even in the top hundreds. Dr Hale sighed suddenly. "Just... be back before, testing begins. You can''t get inside alone," Dr Hale said. Troy wasn''t letting a chance like this slip by. With a quick nod, to confirm understanding, he walked the opposite way. The walk to the personnel rooms was anything but stressful. Partly because Troy had to second guess every turn he made. Honestly, was this place made to be confusing to navigate? ¡­ That was a valid theory actually. If one didn''t know the way to a place, there was no reason for there to be a method to find it. A literal labyrinth of hallways was not too far from reality. This place definitely had the space to grow to all sides. No matter. After a few hectic minutes of searching, Troy had succeeded in finding his way. He went to his door and swung it open. The sound made Troy wince. Here he was, trying to be a little undercover with his actions, while loudly swinging doors open. Troy closed the door gently, with a sigh. He needed to be a little more consistent. Walking over to his table, by the bed, he took up the original earpiece. Troy wasn''t sure why Dr Fidelis hadn''t asked him to return it. Maybe, he had just forgotten about it. The reason didn''t matter. What mattered was, what it could let Troy do. It would let him have an unsupervised conversation. He took the earpiece on. ''Are we starting another test, already?'', Adam asked. "Not a regular test, no", Troy said. ''Define a regular test, please.'', was sent. Troy really could bring results, when it was needed. "A regular test would be any test made by Dr Fidelis and Dr Hale. An irregular test would be a test made by someone else. For example, me", Troy clarified, with a near-cheerful tone. He tried doing a slight imitation, of how Dr Fidelis used to explain stuff, but he wasn''t even close. Adam paused in his questioning, likely to process it over. That was good, in Troy''s eyes. No obvious conclusions were drawn. ''¡­ so, we are doing a test, created by you?'', Adam asked. "Yes. Precisely," Troy confirmed. ''Then, where is my assistant?'' What? "I am your assistant, as always", Troy said. ''Your logic does not make sense. If you know the true purpose of an experiment, can you partake in it, without any bias towards it?'' "In this particular instance, yes I can," Troy said. "As your assistant, I will simply be acting as your hand, body, whatever you want to call it." ''extension of the mind.'' "Sure. But, as this extension, I will not be making any actions myself. You will be doing them for me." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Again, there was a slight pause, as if Adam was checking the local bullshit meter. It felt that way, to Troy at least. ''Your logic checks out. What is your description of this experiment?'' Adam asked. And he had Adam hooked on. "Well, my fine, metaphysical friend, we will be playing a game, which will put your mind to the test", Troy explained, trying to lay the suspension on thickly. ''And, what is the name of this game?'' "Its name is poker."
Searching up his likely vast library of information, Adam found this about poker. Poker; a card game. What a helpful, and explanatory clarification on it. Now, Adam just felt completely understanding, of what the game itself would entail. He needed more information about this ''card game'' if Adam was to succeed in this irregular test. ''Can you explain this game of poker?'', Adam sent out to Troy. As he was the maker of the whole test, he must''ve got plenty of reference material for Adam to analyse fully. "Sure. At what point don''t you know what it is? The rules, the sets, the betting methods¡­", Troy went on, saying things Adam had never thought related to poker. ''First, on what a card game is. Also, all the things you said before.'', Adam said. Troy''s back seemingly deflated with his spine bending a bit forward. This caused him to take a glance at the clock on his table, which made Troy mutter unique reproduction methods. "Okay. I''ll explain it to you when the next break starts. Until then, could you see, if you can scrounge up any more information, in the data-pack of yours?" Troy asked. ''Do you mean the information package?'' "Yes. That. I need to get lunch, so how about you just do that?" ''Okay.'', Adam confirmed. Troy took off the earpiece, without another word, leaving Adam to do as asked. This task was quick, with Adam already knowing all the buzzwords. And had already checked out poker, but the others had not been touched before, even though they were connected to already created branches. They were hard to hold track of, all those lines. Adam always had something to look at, with them, but they aren''t always what he wanted to look at. Now, after poker, the next obvious choice would be¡­ what a card game was. Card game; a game played using cards. Adam could have figured that out from the name alone. Poker rules; Rules within a game of poker. A little skimmed on details. Poker sets; A set used for a regular poker game. But, what was in this poker set? Maybe Adam would want to know that. Betting methods; The methods one uses to place a bet. Was the information package sure about that? Such a specific detail could certainly not be remotely true. ¡­ Adam was beginning to understand the use of sarcasm. By using it, Adam could seep out a steady amount of frustration, without throwing any kind of a tantrum. Long term use was another point. If Adam were to use it too frequently, he might be constantly misunderstood by others. It seemed Adam would keep this sarcasm to himself. Getting back to the less than satisfactory explanations, they were lacking. Why were they so? The information went in detail about many other things, so why were these so simple. Did the creators of the package realize the chances of such a game being used in testing? By Adam''s estimations, poker was likely used very frequently, compared to other games. That might have been an example of survivorship bias, but you can''t prove that. The problem was clear. Adam needed another source of information, due to this one having a lack of relevant content. That begged the question, of the location of another likely source. A source, which had been shown to have poker knowledge. The obvious answer would be Troy. But, that wouldn''t work. He needed lunch, which preoccupied him for the foreseeable future. Also, Adam wasn''t sure he could find any quick way to get in contact with Troy. Moving on to the next viable candidate. The person, who had spent the longest amount of time with Troy; Dr Hale. With their obvious closeness, poker must have come up in conversation. One of course didn''t just make a test up on the spot. It had to be thoroughly planned before. Dr Hale was the most likely person to be involved in the initial planning. This did have the same issue, as with Troy, though, so that was thrown out the metaphorical window quickly. All in all, that left¡­ Dr Fidelis. Both the best and worst choice. Best, due to being Adam''s only realistic choice. Worse, for the same reason. And, Dr Fidelis could get a little side-tracked, when explaining things. Adam wasn''t sure, if he was supposed to ask him to stop, or something when he did this. Dr Fidelis did clearly try to explain, to the best of his ability. But, it wasn''t the explanation Adam usually looked for. ''Dr Fidelis.'', Adam sent out. ''What is it, buddy? Any questions about the test, maybe?'' ''I have plenty of questions about it. But, that isn''t the reason for this conversation.'', Adam said. Adam paused in his explanation. ''Last time we spoke, I''m pretty sure you were hacking into me about unfull explanations.'', Dr Fidelis sent. ''I am trying to speak to your mannerisms. It is supposed to get your guard down, and make you more receptive to suggestions.'', Adam explained. He was not going to be shown to be a hypocrite. That would be scandalous, even to Adam himself, who had not yet heard of scandals. ''Huh. Can''t say it''s working, to be honest, with you, buddy. Also, a few suggestions. If you''re trying to make people more receptive, don''t say you''re doing so to them. That hasn''t worked too well, in my experiences at least.'' ''Noted,'' Adam said, committing to memory. Well, he committed everything to his memory. But, he did it manually with this one, so it made sense. ''So, what was it you were wondering about?'', Dr Fidelis asked. Oh, right. Adam was done with that way of talking. Honestly, it just side-tracked the real point of the conversation. So ineffective. ''My information-package is lacking in detailed explanations. Due to this, I have been trying to find other sources to get information. After deliberating my choices, you were found to be on the top of my asking list. Will, you help me get clarification on some subjects?'', Adam explained, in full detail. Well, not so full, that Dr Fidelis realised his ranking. From what Adam understood, humans didn''t like being last in most things. ''Perfectly said. And, sure, I will gladly do that. What subject do you need to know more about today?'' Dr Fidelis asked, responding quickly. ''Poker.'' A pause. A pause that was much longer than normal. It was longer than what was even necessary with longer explanations. ''Any particular reasons for your asking of the subject specifically?'' Dr Fidelis asked. A perfectly valid question. ''Because of the lesser amount of information about it.'', Adam clarified. ''Yeah, I got that. But, you do realize that nothing about poker will likely ever be on the regular tests? It''s not something on the schedule, at least'', Dr Fidelis said. Of course, it wasn''t on the regular testing schedule. If it was, Troy wouldn''t have made it himself. Very thoughtful of him, now that Adam thought about it. Going out of his way to make it possible, for Adam to learn about it. ''Yes. I did not expect it to be so.'', Adam sent. ''Okay, I just wanted to make sure I understood. In essence, poker can be grounded down to two simple principles. Misdirection and analysis. It''s about keeping the value of your cards hidden while reading the other''s cards. Not literally, of course. That would be cheating. No, one has to read their face, their hands, and their general body. One has to see the signs that show their reactions. You need to do all this while making it seem you have the highest cards yourself. Well, that''s just my preferred playstyle. Some say that you need to be stone-faced, no matter what. Any emotion shown is an emotion that can be analysed by others. Did that explain it for you?'' It was times like this, where Adam wasn''t sure about himself. Yes, he had gained a larger understanding of the principles about the game. But, he hasn''t learned any of the things he was supposed to learn. ''I had been hoping you would be explaining the technical side of the game,'' Adam clarified. ''Oh, well, I can do that too. Just give me a second, and I''ll pull up a site explaining it.'' Much better. Chapter 19: Fructification
At the end of it all, Troy didn''t get any lunch. Sure he got all the way to the cafeteria but met Dr Hale, who was just on her way out. Seemed that she ate quickly when there was no one to talk to. Troy thought she was just doing it to annoy him. Together they went back to the testing room. Along the way, there was an unspoken silence. Troy didn''t want to break it, for the fear of Dr Hale asking, what Troy was doing. Either way, Dr Hale most likely enjoyed the short silence. After a few minutes of hasty walking, they finally get to the testing room. Due to his own measure of stupidity, this causes Troy to audibly sigh in relief. Dr Hale took a glance of Troy because of it but didn''t seem to have any need to bring the reasons for it up. Inside, Dr Fidelis was typing away at the screen, with a weird face. It being weird, due to the lack of enthusiasm on it. "Something wrong, Dr Fidelis?" Troy asked, slightly curious about the reasons. Dr Fidelis looks up at the two of them, mild surprise in his stature. He looked like he didn''t notice they were there before. Once realising who Troy and Dr Hale was, his shoulders sagged by the smallest fingertip. "Oh, its nothing, buddy", Dr Fidelis said, with a sigh. "It''s just Adam not making sense." With Troy''s newly done actions, the mention of Adam did bring in a large amount of focus. And a slightly heightened pulse, to add to the debacle. "How so?" Troy said, with an as calm as possible tone. Taking a glance at Dr Hale, Troy saw that she had already brought out her notebook, and was quickly scribbling down the words said. Dr Fidelis just looked at them, blank-eyed, for a few seconds, before sighing once again. "I just cant figure him out", Dr Fidelis began explaining. "While you had lunch, he began asking the weirdest questions. Now, I''m not one to judge anyone in their search for broad knowledge, but the subject just seemed a little weird to a being that gained sentience last week. I''ve been looking over all the test, but I just can''t find a reason for the sudden interest in it. Now, I''m just beginning to think that it''s a random thought. That Adam was just randomly interested in a random subject." "You haven''t said, what Adam was interested in", Dr Hale noted, not looking up from her writings. "Oh. Yeah," Dr Fidlis said. "It was gambling. Suddenly, with no warning, Adam is interested in gambling." Oh, how Troy wanted to ask Adam a few questions himself. The first one would probably be, why exactly did he feel the need to ask Dr Fidelis about it? Maybe he would even add in a sprinkle of why Adam hadn''t just asked Troy later? Was it because of Troy asking him to find information, while he was out to get some lunch? It had been late, and he would''ve missed his chance if he spent any time explaining it then and there! Though, now that Troy knew, that he would have missed it no matter what, his views changed a margin. He realised he was being a little idiotic with his actions. There hadn''t been any mention about keeping it hidden from others. Normally, there wouldn''t be any need to. The context would make it obvious! But, Troy was dealing with Adam, who, as Dr Fidelis had said, was not that old. He likely hadn''t realised all the implications that some words would have. He likely hadn''t even understood, what Troy mean with unregular tests. ¡­ Troy needed to fix this quickly. When he got to white void, he would- no, he couldn''t do that! Everything Troy said was being recorded and watched through by Dr Fidelis. If he even mentioned poker during testing, he would get called out instantly. Could Troy go back to his room, and clear everything up now? The risks of not doing so, was too high, for Troy''s mental stability. No, any excuse to go back now, would be criticized by Dr Hale. He had an excuse the first time, but the second would need clarifications. In conclusion, Troy would need to go through the test, without any pre-planning. And while doing the test, he couldn''t mention anything about the game, no matter if Adam wanted to speak about it or not. "Doesn''t matter now", Dr Fidelis, waving one of his hands, as if waving the worry away. "We have tests to do. Come on. We have to get you strapped in." Troy went over and geared up. While doing so, he attempted to strike up a conversation, to ease his worries. "So, what test will we be doing this time?" Troy asked. "Oh, nothing special. You''ll find out when you get inside," Dr Fidelis said, not so reassuringly. "Let me guess," Troy said, feeling a bit sassy. "You''ll never tell me, what we will be doing out here." "Spot on", Dr Fidelis said with a grin. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "If you knew now, it would ruin the entire purpose of your employment", Dr Hale supplied, from the background, with a still tone. "Quite right, Dr Hale", Dr Fidelis said, before turning his focus back to Troy. He clapped him on the back before saying "In with you, now. We haven''t got all day. Well, we do, but, you know, you get the point of what I''m saying. Just¡­ go inside, please." And Troy did so, going over the metal walkway. The metallic rattles coming from it, as he stepped on it, were weirdly reassuring to Troy. He wasn''t sure if that was positive or not. As he went inside, Troy noted the vanishing of the entrance. It wasn''t instantaneous, but just barely. It was over in less than a second. The corners would blur for just a moment before the whole thing seemingly imploded on itself. ''Is lunch over?'' Adam asked as Troy put on the earpiece. It had become a habit, to just hold the thing until he got inside. "Yeah. It''s time for some regular testing", Troy said, being very careful in his wording. ''Good. Was your lunch satisfactory?'' "I didn''t have any, unfortunately. I wasn''t fast enough to get any," Troy said, realizing the implications for the second sentence. "I was distracted by something in my personal room, so I only got to the cafeteria later in the break." All things said were not groundbreaking for anyone yet. Dr Hale already knew it. But, from what they knew, Adam didn''t. ''I thought you went to the cafeteria immediately after speaking with me.'' "Oh, I did", Troy clarified, with a slightly uncertain voice. ''Then your reasoning makes no sense. You say that you were distracted by something after talking to me. But, you also went to the cafeteria immediately after talking to me. I believe your wording was incorrect in one. Would please clarify which it was?'' Now that Troy thought about it, he wasn''t sure how much Dr Fidelis and Dr Hale could hear. With him having to wear a microphone, so they could hear him, it would imply that there was no recording equipment on the earpiece. This meant that nothing Adam said, would be noticed by Dr Fidelis. They would only get an idea of it, by the context of Troy''s answers. So, as long as he said nothing specific about anything, and kept to vague answers, he could come through this. "It would be the second one," Troy said, leaving out the ''you were the distraction'' part. ''Ah. Misunderstanding settled. Please keep check of your wording for the next time.'' "Of course," Troy said. Troy heard the brief flicker of noise coming from the earpiece. It seemed that Dr Fidelis was ready to explain the test. Troy hadn''t messed up yet. That was good. Still, he needed to stay firm, or his plan would fail before it even truly began.
Adam wondered. Why had Troy suddenly decided to keep his mind on the health of his spine? Since the first moment that Adam had used Troy as a willing vessel, he had never had his back straight for more than a few moments. But now, it was firmer than ever. Adam wasn''t complaining, of course. The new sensations coming from the new position was nothing to complain about. It even gave him a few pointers on his theories about proper blood flow. *And, we are back!*, Dr Fidelis'' voice began. Adam redirected his attention from Troy''s body to Dr Fidelis'' voice. *We never left, sir*, Adam was able to hear in the background, likely coming from Dr Hale. Adam wasn''t sure. The sound quality was not the greatest that it had been. What had changed, since the last test? *Yes, yes, I know, Dr Hale. It just sounds more exciting, when I say it like this. Don''t you think so?*, Dr Fidelis asked. *No, sir. It does not sound more exciting at all. In the instance, it even diminishes it by a larger quantity.* *Troy?*, Dr Fidelis said. The context would imply it being desperate, yet the real tone was humorous. Adam needed a large understanding. "I''m sorry to say this, Dr Fidelis, but I have to side with Dr Hale on this one," Troy said, with an over professional tone. *How sad*, Dr Fidelis said. *Anyway, let''s get back to the test. Today, we will be doing something new. Do you see a square anywhere in front of you?* Adam could see Troy looking around, and finding nothing. Troy even looked under his feet, much to Adam''s amusement. Had Dr Fidelis unlearned how to work the controls, Adam wondered? "I can''t seem to find any with the general likeness of it, no", Troy answered after a short while. He had double-checked all directions three times before answering. *Great. That means I haven''t screwed anything up yet! For this test, there will not be any two-dimensional square for you to mess around with.* "Then, what will I be messing around with? Is this some kind of voice-controlled test, maybe?" Troy questioned. A valid theory. At least, according to Adam. *You''re going in the wrong direction, buddy. No. For this test, we will not be doing anything voice-controlled. Not too bad of an idea, though. Might use it later. To say it like a wise man once said. We''ll be increasing the dimensions!... not sure, if I got that one right if I''m being honest. Doesn''t matter. Today, we will be moving from two dimensions to three. Now, isn''t that just existing?* For Adam it was. To Troy, though, it seemed underwhelming. At least, from what his posture would say. "Is that all? Instead of a two-dimensional square to press, we''ll be switching over to a three-dimensional one? I can''t say, that I see any way that it adds versatility." Troy had a good point. If the square was just used for a panel, it didn''t add any obvious functions. Aesthetically, it might have been more pleasing, but that wasn''t enough to have a whole test made out of. *Well, if I get to finish, It might become clear to you.*, Dr Fidelis said. And that straightens Troy''s back like nothing else. "Of course. Sorry", Troy said, before shutting his mouth extra tight. Adam could actually feel Troy''s lower jaw pressing to the upper one. That had to bring some damage in the long term. *No matter. What''s important is getting the new tech past us. If you would be so kind, as to take two steps back. I would rather not test border control in unintended ways.* Troy put on a confused face, but he complied quickly. Adam did nothing but silently watch. Inside, though, the interest was peaking. What exactly was this border control? The borders of the room? No, that would require a bit more than three steps. It was something contained within the space of the walls. That left Troy hitting Troy¡­ no, that didn''t make sense. But, with the mention of tridimensional squares, the answer came forth. Specifically, it came forth, in the form of a cardboard box, briefly floating in the air in front of Troy. Gravity took hold of it quickly though, swiftly hitting the ground with a soft thud. *From the sound, I''m hearing, the creation process is a success.*, Dr Fidelis said, with a larger amount of satisfaction. After a few seconds of silence, Troy cleared his throat. "Dr Fidelis", Troy said. Adam noted a peculiar fact about Troy''s behaviour. For a full fifteen seconds, Troy''s eyes had not so much as moved, nor had they blinked. This was an undocumented anomaly, in Troy''s normal behaviour. *Yes?* "Would you be so kind, as to explain, why there is a cardboard box in front of me?" Troy asked, in a strained voice. A cardboard box, huh? Adam had not heard of those before. He wondered why. They seemed foldable, which was a definite plus in his. Efficiency in space used. *Because I made it so. Now, you can begin the test whenever you''re ready," Dr Fidelis stated. "But you haven''t explained the test", Troy said. *Maybe if you open the box, you''ll guess it. Also, you''re allowed to explain it to Adam too.* And the connection was cut off. Troy was right back to slouching. "I bet you''re just enjoying this", Troy muttered in a low voice. Was he speaking to Adam? Most likely, as he would be the only one able to hear it. ''No. I will likely enjoy the contents of the cardboard box, though,'' Adam sent. Positive reinforcement, with positive words. Troy sighed a small bit, before walking forward. He bent down to the cardboard box and opened up the top of it. Inside was another box, this one made of plastic. This one even had a title. On it, it said; ''Thousand piece puzzle! Extra hard, with pure, blue facade!'' And there it was again. Troy showcased various reproduction methods, this time with multiple animals. Adam wasn''t sure that was appropriate for a testing atmosphere, but he didn''t stop Troy from continuing, due to being enamoured with his lung-capacity. Chapter 20: Disinclination
''What''s in the box?'', played over and over in Troy''s head. It was shocking in the start, seeing such a horrible thing. But now, Troy was chuckling, as if it was some kind of cruel joke. Inside the cardboard box, was another box. A horrible thing, which Troy had vowed to never touch again. The vileness extruding from it was nauseating. Who would create such a thing? Even the most repulsive of sadists must be deterred from it. ''Will you explain the test now?'', Adam asked Troy. Brief horror, then a quick realisation. They were still talking about this test¡­ the test, where such a horrible thing allowed itself to still exist before Troy. It didn''t matter what Troy thought though. Adam was intrigued, and it was his job to help him find the answers he wanted. "This, my friend, is what we call a puzzle," Troy said, slowly opening up the box. He was surprised that the surface didn''t burn his fingertips. Inside, a thousand, blue squares sat, each slightly deformed. "Our goal today is to put them all together. As in, you tell me, what to do, and I''ll do it. To follow the rules, I will not be helping you in any other way. Do you understand?" ''The message is clear.'', Adam answered quickly. "Good. Shall we begin?" ''Let us proceed with this.'' Troy flipped the box over letting all the individual pieces fall to the ground. It made a massive clutter but helped in letting the spread out. With them all being blue, it would likely be hard to get accurate instructions. "Ready for orders", Troy said, getting down to sit on his knees. ''Affirmative. Take the blue piece to your most right.'' Oh, this was gonna be a long day. "Care to be more specific?" Troy asked, looking to this right. In front of him, the whole floor was covered, by blue, puzzle pieces. Adam remained silent for a moment. ''You are looking at it. It is located right in front of your left knee.'' Looking down, Troy did see a puzzle piece by his left knee. He saw several in fact. "Still not accurate enough, I''m afraid", Troy said. ¡­ ''¡­ We have a problem.'' "First realized that now?" Troy asked, his tone clear with sarcasm. ''Yes. The problem is due to your lack of ability in differentiating the puzzle pieces. Do you have any solutions to this problem?'' Troy thought the problem was Adam''s lack of communication, but he didn''t comment on that. He was a good person, after all. "I''m not supposed to help you with that, I''m afraid," Troy stated, putting on a sorrowful tone. Oh, how dreadful it was. Adam didn''t answer immediately, likely trying to come forth with some loophole to fix it all. Could he find a loophole, though? The rules hadn''t been told to them, now that Troy thought about it. ''A solution has been found,'' Adam sent. Oh, that was faster than Troy thought. To be honest, he hadn''t been too sure that Adam would even succeed. "Spill it out, then", Troy encouraged him. He needed a piece of this. ''If the problem is that you do not understand which piece to take, the sorting system will have to change. Instead of me saying, what piece you take, you instead take any piece of your choosing. Then, I will direct you to do what is needed, with the piece. Before this new system is implemented, though, I believe I have found some pieces, which you will be able to identify.'' Troy wasn''t too sure, he would be able to differentiate any of them. "Are you sure about that?" Troy asked. ''Eighty percent, at the minimum. This puzzle has sides and corners to it, which are differently shaped than the others. They have either two or three distorted sides, which is different from the usual four. Will you please find all these pieces?'' "You can just tell to do so, you know?" Troy said. ''Then do so.'' "Roger, roger" And down on his ass, Troy went. There wasn''t any way he was sitting in a Slavic position for the next ten minutes. The sorting began in relative silence. He was guessing, that Adam was just wa¨ªting to be correct Troy in something. What did Slavic even mean, Troy, wondered? He hadn''t been following too much attention to history class, but he did have a vague idea about it. A couple of decades ago, it was seen as a position mostly used by a certain kind of country. Apparently, they had some kind of genetic feature, that let them sit that way comfortably. Before, Troy had thought the whole thing to be sham. A false story, told by the older ones who lived in that period. Then, he saw videos of people even dancing in that position, and never questioned the capabilities of the human body again. When did those countries even fall? Was it the Strikes, or was it the- You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ''You missed one to your right.'', Adam sent, bringing Troy out of the zone. How long did it take? About thirty seconds. "Of course, of course", Troy said, making sure to throw a bit too hard, when getting it to the pile of side-pieces. "Counted how many side-pieces left?" Troy asked. It was getting more than boring doing this sorting. ''You are nearly halfway.'' If God existed, Troy wished for time-travelling powers. ¡­ Damn you, non-existent being.
Troy thought back to his school days. When getting his worthless excuse of a degree, he had been required to take a foreign language credit. Due to his lack of reason, and general stupidity, Troy had simply picked a random, entry-level language class. After picking, the screen had asked, if he was sure about his choice. Troy said yes. The screen asked again. Troy said yes again. Then it asked if he was really sure about his choices, and a warning about how the class was required to be completed once accepted. At that point, Troy should have checked the name of the class. He didn''t and simply accepted the class selection a final time. This was a massive mistake. Troy, in his stupidity, had chosen to learn beginners Esperanto. This was fine. Esperanto was one of the easiest languages to learn. It was how he would be learning it, that was the problem. You see, the teacher would be teaching the class, not vocally, but with the hands. Sign language. Troy had chosen a language class for the deaf. With the fact that he couldn''t regret his choices, Troy was forced to learn sign-language by himself, fluently enough that he could understand complex words, while also learning another, different, language. It had been gruelling, and Troy had hated every second of it. But, and this is a big but, if given the chance, he would gladly do it all again, instead of ever even knowing this puzzling test. The number of times Troy had been told he picked up the wrong, blue square was uncountable. Even thinking about it, caused his eyes to twitch. Of course, Adam had complained about that too, politely asking him to stop it. It was still seen as a miracle that their change in attitude had been able to change that. If they hadn''t alternated on who chose the pieces, they would certainly have been stuck at the first few steps for all eternity. Now, though¡­ they were almost done. Five empty places were left on the board, all different places. Troy would even need to think about it if he wanted to solve it himself. ''Time for the next piece, please,'' Adam sent out to him, with his oh, so consistent, monotone voice. After this test was done, he really needed to ask Adam to change that up. Maybe, instead of a constant, emotionless voice, he could do a constant, angry voice. At least, it would get the level of sadism across. But, was it sadism, if Adam didn''t mean to be so? The result was the same, but the function of it all was radically- ''Take another piece from your left, and let me have a look at it.'', Adam said. And there was another thing that Troy regretted doing. Asking Adam to make orders, instead of suggestions. The worst thing about it all was that it worked on Troy, giving Adam even more incentive to do so. Troy didn''t even look to his side, simply moving his hand across the floor, until he felt a bump. Bringing it to his face, Troy was ever so unpleasantly surprised to find a blue, puzzle piece. ''Top-left opening.'', Adam simply said, in response to seeing it. Troy looked at the board. Two openings matched the description. So he had a choice to make, due to this. Let Adam know that his communication was subpar, or just break the rules a smudge, and place it in the correct spot. The second option was taken, like many before it. He didn''t want Adam to discuss methods of clearing misunderstanding efficiently again. Troy was halfway to the point, where he thought Adam just liked talking. ''Next piece, please.'' And on the clockwork spun. There were now four places left. He took one up, let Adam study it for a microsecond, then placed it in the correct position. Three left. Take one up, place one down. Two left. Generally moving his arm. One left. A Troy slid his hand across, the clear surface of the floor, a problem quickly arose. Troy felt nothing but the flatness. For the first time in a good hour, Troy looked at the former pile of pieces. Pure whiteness met his eyes, no blue piece in sight. "Houston- I mean, Adam- we have a problem," Troy said. He began looking around. ''I see it.'', Adam sent. "Where?" Troy asked, not seeing the piece. ''I see the problem.'', Adam clarified. "Great. That was helpful of you to point out", Troy said. Maybe he had sat on it in the beginning? No, it wasn''t under him. His pockets, maybe? Troy checked them all, but nothing came out. ¡­ Oh, this was not happening. "Care to use that amazing memory of yours?" Troy asked. ''To what?'', Adam asked. "You know, pinpoint exactly which piece we''re missing, using the forms of every piece we''ve seen, and then looking back in your perfect memory to that piece''s placement throughout this whole ordeal," Troy said. ''I can also just look at the missing form, and pinpoint it from that.'', Adam retorted. "Great! Do that, then." And on Troy sat, silently twiddling his thumbs, while Adam did the heavy lifting. He could help¡­ but, at this point, not doing anything sounded like the better option. Why was that, Troy pondered. Was it due to the lack of energy needed to so? Or, was it due to the already used mental energy, that made Troy oh so tired? Calling it a mix of both likely wasn''t too wrong. ''Analysis is complete.'', Adam stated. "Great," Troy said, stretching his arms, enjoying the accompanying popping sounds. "What did you find?" ''Nothing.'', Adam helpfully answered. No, scratch that. Troy didn''t even want to sully the meaning with sarcasm. It was not helpful, in any way. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?" Troy asked, with slightly narrowed eyes. ''No piece was ever observed, with the needed description.'', Adam explained. "Did I never lay my eyes on it?" Troy asked rhetorically. He wasn''t that great at math, but the chances of that must''ve been low! ''Yes. But, not for the reasons, you think.'' Troy stopped in his thoughts. This didn''t sound good. "Please, explain", Troy stated. Calling it ordered, wouldn''t be too far off too. ''The last piece was never made.'' He put his fingers to the top of the nasal bridge. Had Troy spent the last two hours, on something impossible to complete? "Dr Fidelis", Troy said to the empty air. *The problem has been seen*, Dr Fidelis notified them. "And will you be doing something about it?" Troy asked. *Of course, of course! I couldn''t let this test come to failure, due to my own mistakes!*, Dr Fidelis stated, sounding slightly offended. "How long''s it gonna take?" Troy hoped it would be a while. He could even lay down for a moment or two. *Just a second. Had to design a new piece, its just rendering now¡­ It''s done! I''ll just update the current model, and....* Troy spared a look at the long built puzzle, just as it disappeared. To his right, an eerily familiar cardboard box appeared. Oh, hell no. "Dr Fidelis", Troy said, very calmly. "Please don''t tell me, you just did, what I think you did." *Hey, that''s what happens, when you update the model. It resets to factory settings*, Dr Fidelis defended. "Do you expect us to build it all again?" Troy asked. *Yes! I even randomised the puzzle a bit, so it''s the same level of challenge.* Troy just couldn''t. "Adam", Troy said. ''Yes?'' Adam sent. "Have you heard of the term; ''going on strike?''" Troy asked. *Oh, don''t you even think about it*, Dr Fidelis said, but Troy just ignored him. ''No. Neither is it present in my database. What does this term mean?'' Adam asked. *Don''t listen to him, Adam!*, Dr Fidelis said. "It''s a fun little thing, for the everyday workers, like us!", Troy explained, with a jovial tone to it all. "We do it together if the quality of our workplace is low in overall quality. Like this place, for example." *Oh, that''s fake news. This place is as perfect as can be!* ''Sounds interesting. To acquire new knowledge, can I partake in this activity?'' "I''ll be glad, for you to join!", Troy answered. *What do you want!*, Dr Fidelis cut in, after hearing Troy speak. Troy finally decided to answer Dr Fidelis. "How about you just revert it, to what we made it to before, and give us the last piece, so we can finish for today?" A perfect solution, in Troy''s eyes. *Will you stop trying to create a revolution?*, Dr Fidelis asked. "Yes." *Deal. At least, the modification paperwork will be less tedious than the other stuff.* The last bit was mumbled, but Troy was just able to hear it. The puzzle appeared, together with the last puzzle piece at the side. Troy sighed in relief. ''Will we still be doing a strike?'', Adam asked innocently. "Not today, buddy. Maybe next time," Troy answered, putting the last piece in its rightful place. ''A shame.'' Chapter 21: Assentation
Stepping out of the dreadful place, Troy took in a full sigh. Finally. He was out. No more white and blue in his sights. Never again, would he need to- "Congratulations on your first, long test!", Dr Fidelis said, giving Troy a clap on the shoulder. This movement caused his white, lab coat to move too. His white lab coat. Troy saw red. No wait, that sounded wrong. "Wasn''t it great?" "Will the other test be like this?" Troy asked, neatly deflecting the question. "I think we had that conversation before", Dr Fidelis said, his tone never lowering from its happy overlay. "Just give me a general perspective, then," Troy said. "Will I, ever again, have to sit on the floor for three hours, slowly solving a puzzle, which I could easily find a replica of out here?" "Well¡­ ", Dr Fidelis said, not finishing his sentence. "You won''t," Dr Hale cut into their conversation. "He hasn''t planned for it, at least." "Dr Hale!", Dr Fidelis said, his voice nearly offended. "If somebody is going to ruin my fun, it better be me next time." Was his tone nearly serious, at that last part? No, Troy must have imagined it. "Anyway," Dr Fidelis continued, as if Dr Hale had never spoken. "Unfortunately for you, you don''t have the jurisdiction to force it all out of me. Fortunately, though, I am a good person and saw how much you enjoyed it, so I will tell you this; The test will be more complicated than this next time." That was all Troy could ever dream of getting out of him. "Great," Troy said. "Any more tests for today?" "There was supposed to be one more", Dr Fidelis amended. "But, as somebody made me modify a test, while it was being done, I have some paperwork to do." And that was even better than Troy would have guessed. "A shame," Troy said, already moving, after getting the last recording piece off. "Well¡­ see ya." And out of the door, Troy went. He had an appointment to get to. Looking at the clock, before Troy walked out the doorway, he saw he still had plenty of time to move with. Enough time to get back to his room, to get a thing or two. Taking a quick sniff of his shirt, he realized that it included a shower, too. Finding his way to the personnel rooms was getting easier, Troy thought as he walked. Looked like it was just one of the many benefits of breaking the untold rules. After finally getting to his room, he plopped down on the bed and snatched on the earpiece. ''Is it time for the test?'', Adam asked. "Not yet, I''m afraid," Troy said, trying to get off his damned socks. "I''ll be doing a few preparations before we get to the¡­ alternative testing site. I think I need to point out a few things about this test of mine." Troy went up to put on the shower. He wouldn''t be going in there for a few more minutes, but it needed some time to heat up. Why exactly it was needed so much time to do so, Troy wasn''t sure. He had expected more of a top-tech facility when it came to this, but maybe that was just his opinion. ''Shoot.'', Adam sent. Troy paused for a second. Was Adam copying his mannerisms? ¡­ No. That was a question for another day. He was not dealing with that right now. "Okay", Troy said, sitting back down on his bed, to get out some clothes from under it. They weren''t his, but they came with the room, so no complaints there. "This test is unorthodox, from all the previous ones we have done, so there will be some stark differences in them." Troy halted his explanation, to see if Adam had any questions for him. Seemed he didn''t, so Troy just continued. "The first, and most important, will be the secrecy of the whole thing."
Secrecy? When was that ever a good idea, when it came to the search of knowledge? Why would one hide facts that could help create an overall, broader understanding? "This is due to a great reason", Troy continued. "During this test of mine, there will be more participants, than just the two of us." This is something that Adam had predicted earlier, during his conversation with Dr Fidelis. While a normal game of poker could be played with only two entities, this would still be impossible with Troy and Adam. This was because Troy technically only acted as an extension of Adam, and not as a person, in the spectrum of the test. But, this begged another question. ''Who will the others be?'', Adam asked in response to the new information. "I''m getting to that", Troy said, waving the question away. "As you might have guessed, people act differently, when they know that they are being tested. One''s answer will always differ from the standard when the person is knowledgeable about being observed." Troy''s tone implied that he wasn''t sure what he was talking about. Yet, the logic behind it still made sense to Adam. But, this didn''t mention, who the other, unknowing participants would be. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ''You didn''t answer-'' "It''s a long answer, okay?" Troy said, cutting Adam off. "Anyway, due to the people needing to not know the test, it has caused the selection to be¡­ unusual. You won''t know any of them, and they won''t know you either. Preferably, that has to stay that way." The people wouldn''t know about their participation, after the test''s completion. Why? ''What purposes are there, to them not knowing the test, after the completion of the test. Would they still be able to influence the result?'', Adam asked. Troy tensed for a moment, before continuing moving through a pile of clothes. He couldn''t seem to make a decision on, which to keep on the bed. "In a way, you''re correct," Troy said. "No, they won''t be able to influence the result of this test. But, it will influence the results of any future tests completed. If they figure out the specifications of any test, it will seriously hamper my ability to create these situations. This will further the time it takes to create any more tests. That''s not something any of us wants to happen, I''m guessing?" Oh, that made sense to Adam. He now realized that he had been thinking too low of Troy. This much long-term planning was not something he could have currently created. ''Understood.'', Adam confirmed. "Good", Troy said. "Before I lay you down for a while, do you have any more questions?" ''Yes. I would prefer some more specifications on my personal objective in this test. The overall goal is poker, but is there any other focused goals, that I can be told?'' "Well¡­ ", Troy said. "I don''t think it''s for the best, if I tell you precisely, what I want you to do. It is kinda your job to tell me what to do, in this scenario. But¡­ maybe, it would be for the best, if I help you along a little. How about, you tell me, what you currently think you''re supposed to be doing, and I tell you if you are on the right track?" A moderate solution. It was better than no feedback, Adam amended. ''According to my investigations, the main purpose of this test will be my ability to read body language. To figure out the emotions and general thoughts of others, without needing them explicitly told to me.'' Troy just sat thinking about it. Were the objectives so advanced, that it required more than a simple thought? "Eh, close enough", Troy said after a second. "Let''s just go with that." ''So my assumptions were correct?'' "They were close enough", Troy simply stated. Adam got the point. "Any more questions? And, not any lesser important ones, please. We have a schedule to keep up with." All questions were at the utmost of importance, but Adam didn''t think it wise to state so. ''No.'', Adam simply sent. "Good. Without further ado, then-", And off the earpiece went, leaving Adam to his planning. ¡­ What did he need to plan? The objective had been told. Information about the test had been analysed time and time again. Adam could recite them in his sleep! If he ever, slept of course. So, he was left with nothing to do. This meant that Adam just needed to patiently wait for Troy to make the final preparations. ¡­ Maybe some more planning couldn''t hurt. From the new information, which Troy had explained to Adam, the number of potential players had increased. It was a minimum of three total players, with a reasonable maximum of ten. Excluding Troy from the equation, that left nine potential bodies to constantly observe. Could Adam twist his perception to focus on so many people at once? He needed to if wanted a good score. He already saw problems with that plan. Constantly focusing on different bodies, would not let him do constant, full analysis of bodies. With table placement, he wouldn''t even get the chance to do full bodies, due to the table. Adam needed to be efficient in his algorithms. Places that didn''t show any signs needed to be cut out of the equations. But, what places were less important? And were they constant across all humans? He wasn''t sure about the first question, but the second one was easy enough. No, they were random in the least and ever-changing. The signs that somebody was bluffing could change from day to day or just stay around for years. One could never know. This created another layer of thinking. Before Adam could even see, if people were lying or not, he needed time to see their reactions to certain stimuli. Wait, did he have any way to control the stimuli? Maybe, he could ask Troy to do certain things¡­ Even with this, Adam would still need to have secrecy in mind. While certain sacrifices could be made, to get good results on the test, nothing would be worth ruining the chances of future, potential tests. One could only learn so much at a time. If spread over multiple tests, the total would increase nearly exponentially. Adam wasn''t getting anywhere, in this planning of his. He just walked deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole called Long-Term planning. Oh, how he loved it. If only it always could be like this. Well¡­ it could. But Adam wouldn''t let it be so. Nothing would ever get done if it were so. Still, though, how Troy ever got results from this, Adam couldn''t understand. How did he take all this mass of pure information, and make a sustainable long-term solution out of it? It was something to aspire to be.
Troy stepped out of the shower, rubbing his sore skin. The dials on that thing were just too sensitive. It was either a blazing blizzard or liquid metal. There was no in-between. Now, the question might be; Did Troy choose the right option, when he went to the liquid metal side of the spectrum? Sure, his skin felt ten years older, but at least he could still feel it. ¡­ Wasn''t there something about cold water being healthy for the skin, now that Troy was thinking about it? ¡­ It didn''t matter now. Troy needed to focus, or he would just lose track of time. And if that happened, he would be late. Late for the first meeting. Wouldn''t that be awkward? In his mind''s eye, he could see it. The perfect, first impression. A positive attitude about everything, a joke at the right time, and no awkward silences. Oh, and for the first-ever meeting, Troy would also be cheating in their game. Troy put his hand through his hair. It was getting too long for his tastes. It needed to be cut soon. Was what he was doing that wrong? Troy didn''t even need to think about that. Yes, it was very bad. Maybe even illegal. The right option would be to just fess it all up to Charlie, and explain that he hadn''t played poker a single time in his whole life. ¡­ Nah. Troy was sticking with his plan. He was already in too deep. Stepping out now would be such a waste. And he wasn''t sure how he would spin that with Adam. He still thought that it was all some elaborate test. Oh, how Troy had screwed up on that front. A test? He couldn''t make a hypothesis to save his life! It was a sign from the gods, that Adam didn''t ask into the specifics. That he even bought his self-made objective was a miracle in of itself! Again; He had screwed it up. He was in over his shoulders, and way deep with his head. His uncle Ron would be proud of him¡­ That was meant negatively, by the way. Putting on his clothes, he began dreading what was to come. Troy knew that it would happen. He knew that he would do nothing to stop it. Yet, it still filled him with dread in his stomach. Deciding to just ignore this, Troy put on the earpiece. ''Is the test a go?'', Adam asked. "One moment," Troy said, fishing up his shoes. "I need to get these things on my feet, and off we''ll go." A quick thought flashed by Troy''s head. "Before we leave this room, there''s one thing you need to know," Troy began to say. ''Yes?'' "If you hadn''t guessed, we won''t be talking to each other," Troy explained. "You know, with the whole secrecy thing. Your cover would be blown near instantly." Adam didn''t answer immediately. ''Understood. But, I have one-'' "Great! Let''s go, then", Troy said, only paying attention to the first part, and not noticing the other. He stepped out of the room, and quickly went ahead. Troy hoped he could remember where it was. ''There''s something that has confused me. How will I-'' "Shush now," Troy said. "Can''t have you talking. I''ll just reply unintentionally." That was a real fear of Troy''s. If he didn''t pay attention, Adam sounded like any other person talking. He had to really focus on the location, to hear that it was coming from his brain implant. Adam didn''t talk anymore, much to Troy''s relief. "There you are!", Troy heard somebody say from behind him. "I knew you would get lost!" Looking behind himself, he saw that it was just Charlie. "I haven''t gotten to that point, yet", Troy defended. "I didn''t even think I was close to the meeting place." "Oh, trust me, you aren''t," Charlie said. "But, Dr Hale warned me, of your less-than-stellar performance in spatial recognition, so I thought it a great idea to escort you." When did he- Oh, yeah. Charlie had most likely been told during lunch. "Well, escort me, then." "It would be my pleasure." And off the two went. Chapter 22: Commotion
"So. Are you ready for the big game?" Troy looked over at Charlie, with a weird face. "Do all of you call it that jokingly, or something?" Troy asked. "Because there is no way I''m calling it that." Charlie just laughed for a moment. "Oh, a grand day it would be," Charlie said. "But, alas, no, I''m the only one. The others don''t fancy such fanciful language." He had to be messing with Troy, at this point. "That''s a relief," Troy said. "And yes, I''m ready to win." "Have everything prepared, even?" Charlie asked. "Of course," Troy said smugly. A lot of planning had been put into the game. "That''s great to hear," Charlie said. "I was wondering if you knew how to get the credit system working." ¡­ "Ah", escaped from Troy''s mouth. Charlie just looked at Troy, knowing exactly what he had done. It seemed that Troy had forgotten a large part of poker. The fact that the player''s played with money. The money that they procured themself. And put into the game, with casino tokens, which were were exchanged from credits. How did one get credits? "How exactly do I-", Troy began to ask, but Charlie stopped him before he even finished talking. "Trust me. The application process to even get started is longer than you want it to be. And, you can''t even start it yourself. Asking Dr Hale to help you with it is the safest route for you," Charlie quickly explained. "And, no matter what else you might do, if a man, that calls himself Pedro wants to help you, just politely decline." A good solution, in Troy''s eyes. But, it didn''t help him now, when it was needed. "That doesn''t solve the fact that I don''t have any credits right now", Troy said. "Got any easy solutions for that?" "Then just use regular money", Charlie said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The exchange rate might not be as good, but it still works just as fine." Another problem for Troy. He hadn''t really received his first paycheck yet. This meant... this meant Troy had to do something, which he didn''t feel too pleased with. "Okay," Troy began. "This might sound a little weird, but-" Charlie, quick as ever, just handed him a wad of small squares. "What''s this?" he asked. Looking at it up close, Troy could see it in detail. They were wholly transparent, with small lines across the inside of them. "That right there should be enough for tonight," Charlie just said. "And, its what''s commonly referred to, as superficial currency. Or just credits, if you want to be boring." Immediately, Troy tried to hand the credits back, but Charlie didn''t let him. "I''m not sure that I can accept this," Troy adamantly stated. "This is too much!" "You don''t really have a choice," Charlie said. "You can just pay me back next week. Or tonight, if you win." Troy stopped in his attempts to return the money. Yes, he didn''t like owing anybody anything one bit. But, he needed it now. And there weren''t any other options. They walked the rest of the way in silence. "Took you long enough!", Troy heard from ahead, as they neared the hallway to the shopping street. It was an older voice. Troy imagined it to be the voice of a man, about the same age as Charlie. He was right partly. The age looked to be around the same. The size Charlie had in overall thickness, this man had in pure height. Even from a distance, Troy knew he would tower over him. And this long noodle of a man wasn''t alone. He was accompanied by three others; one man and two women. All looked to be over thirty, putting Troy''s more than youthful age to shame. "Darlow, you can''t say that", Charlie said to the beanstalk. "We''re five minutes early!" "You''re five minutes late if you want to be a smartass about it", one of the women said. She was the shortest of them all, but with those shoulders, Troy didn''t doubt her ability to put him down. "And if you''re saying ''we'', I''m guessing he''s Troy." The focus was put off their inability to be on time and put on Troy. And, oh boy, he was not shining in that spotlight. "Uh, hi. I''m Troy", Troy said with a small wave, and an unneeded introduction. Silence. ¡­ The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Troy had kicked the handicapped puppy in a wheelchair, with this one. They just kept staring. How many seconds, before it became awkward? It had felt like an eternity had passed, but it was more accurate to call it a second. "Don''t just stand there!", Charlie said, with an overly dramatic tone. "Introduce yourself, now! You know his name, so its proper procedure to tell yours." "Well, Charlie", the last man said. "How about you introduce yourself first?" That made them snigger a bit. Troy was beginning to doubt his assumptions about their ages. Stressful work could age one''s exterior quickly. With the fact, that they laughed at a joke, that would be fun in fifth grade, these people had had stressful childhoods. Charlie just stared blankly ahead for a second, before realizing he was being talked to. It took another second for him to comprehend it. "Oh, all right," Charlie said. He walked forward, joining the group. Troy just stood still, watching the whole thing. Charlie did one of his now-signature wheelspins when he came to a stop. He stood beside, the tall man, making him look dwarfed in comparison. "As you may know, from knowing me for a long amount of time, my name is Charlie", he said, with a not so fancy bow. "A rare fact about me is that people sometimes call me Charlie." He received a small jab on the side, for the last part. "There. One you do it now," he ended it. "How about you, Darlow. Come on, tell Troy your name." "Don''t say our name, before asking us to tell our name", the tall guy, now Darlow, said back. "Why not? You won''t know who I''m talking to if I don''t say your name," Charlie defended. "But if you say our name, it ruins the reason for the introduction," Darlow said. "And if you''re just gonna do that, with all of us, maybe you should just introduce us yourself." "Oh you''re gonna regret that," Charlie warned. Troy was still just standing a bit away from the group, watching it all unfold. He cleared his throat, before starting. "First off, the Yorkshire giant''s name is Darlow. Don''t mention the weirdness of his name. He''ll just get annoyed at you, and sad inside. Trust me. Seeing that man cry is one of the most horrific things I have ever seen. Next, we have this fellow here. Name''s Francis." Charlie put his hands on the shoulder of the last man in the group. A small twitch on Francis'' eyebrow was the only response to it. "He is the notorious slacker of this facility. If you expect anything to ever be done, don''t expect this man to do it. Don''t expect him to talk much either. That takes energy, he doesn''t want to waste." Next, Charlie tried holding up the previously mentioned short woman. In this trial, he failed and got a punch in the stomach for his efforts. It must have been a light one, though, with that he was only coughing in pain for a couple of seconds. "This fine, short lady-", Charlie started saying but was silenced by another hit. "I-I mean, this fine, young lady here is Zep. A training partner of mine. Also, a drinking partner of mine. But, more like, in reserve, for when Dr Hale doesn''t want to, which is seldom. Is there any more that you think he needs to know?" The last sentence was directed at Zep. "I-", Zep began. "Oh, yeah," Charlie said, right after she began talking. "Don''t mention her height. She doesn''t like that." He moved out of the way of her punch this time. Which was lucky. She looked to have put force into that one. Charlie walked over to the last one of the group. "And least, but hopefully not the last, we have Esme here. Say hi, Esme!" "No," Emse deadpanned. "She says hi," Charlie helpfully translated. "She''s a bit like Francis in the stoicism department. But this one here, actually replies to, what you say. If that is a positive spin on it, can be debated. And, that''s all of us." "No, it isn''t," Zep said, much to Troy''s confusion. "Really?" Charlie said. "Who did I miss?" "The new kid." "Oh, yeah. Troy, do you want to make your introductions, or should I just keep the ball rolling myself?" It took Troy a moment to realise that he was supposed to answer. "You seem to have accurate control of your balls, so I''ll just let you keep them rolling." It was after uttering those words of his, that Troy realised the implications of them. "Okay. I''m just going to ignore the phrasing of that sentence", Charlie said, carrying on smoothly. Crowd control looked to be a speciality of his. Charlie walked over to Troy and pulled him towards the group. "This here is Troy", Charlie said. He gave him a clap on the back, which caused Troy to grow an inch taller than normal. "You may know him from¡­ pretty much nowhere. Yeah, you have absolutely no reason to have even seen this man before. From what I have gathered, he is of the strongest mind. He has endured in the constant presence of Dr Hale. If that doesn''t tell you enough of this man''s character, I don''t know what will. Now that I''m thinking about it, this might be because I don''t know so much about him." First, there was silence. "Well, that''s great. Let us go lose all our money," Darlow said. The group was more inclined to answer that call. "That''s what I planned," Zep said. "Less talking. More walking", Esme answered, pushing the nearest person along. Francis just nodded and began moving first. Charlie nudged Troy along, and on they went. The wall was opened up to reveal the shopping street, and they all walked. They had a casino to get to.
For Troy, the game may have yet to start. But, to Adam, it had begun long ago. He had severely underestimated the complexity of human reactions. Why weren''t there any standards? Why did they react identically to the same stimuli some times, but react differently in others? Sure, they learn, but that shouldn''t invert their responses so radically! Have some consistency! It was all so frustrating for Adam. And he wasn''t sure if he was enjoying it or not. Mentally, cause that''s all he could do, for now, Adam went through the established personality files. First, there was Charlie; The person in the group, who Adam was second-most sure about. Sure, in the way that he knew he had enough information about him. Because there was so much to go through. It was the things linking the information together that was worrying Adam. He wasn''t sure what exactly it was. On the surface, he was energetic, and a perfect portrayal of a natural leader¡­ and, that was all. Adam hadn''t seen anything that cut deeper than that. It was like Charlie was just playing his role, not thinking of making it too believable. Sure. There had been some irregular actions, with all helping to Troy, but that could just be an example of helping the new. If it continued, though, it could have several other meanings. Moving on. The next person was Darlow. Before the personality even came into play, Adam was already interested in him. In his body, specifically. In Adam''s frame of mind, Darlow was an abnormality. Using Troy as a measurement, he was easily one point four Troy''s tall. Approximately two-point sixteen metres. Adam was absolutely fascinated by this. Oh, the questions he wanted to ask about it. But, that didn''t matter right now. There was a personality in there to analyze. As of now, Adam categorized Darlow as the semi-leader, after Charlie. He seemed to be the first to speak up when it was needed. More information was needed there. The mention of him crying also had an unpredicted reaction. Instead of showing anger or embarrassment at others hearing such a thing, Darlow skillfully hid a smile for a full ten seconds. What this meant, Adam wasn''t sure. Also, the reactions to words or actions were less focused on the body. Maybe the height was to blame? Didn''t matter. Adam needed to focus on the twitches on his face, to gauge the card values when the game officially began. Oh, Adam needed to quiet down about him, and move on. He had a schedule to keep up with. Troy would be able to see their faces again soon. Next was Zep. Her height was a curiosity, but not to an abnormal degree. Her height was inside the standard spectrum. To steal a quote he had heard recently; ''She shows her intentions too clearly.'' Adam had seen no indication of ulterior motives, in her actions. Most of her movements had clear intentions. This could either be very good or horrifically bad for Adam, depending on how one looked at it. It was good that Adam found all he could about her. It was bad he couldn''t find more than he currently had. Adam hoped for better results shortly. Then, after Zep, there was of course Esme. She was someone with one more layer of complexity added to her. Every action she did could be done ironically. Adam had surveyed this, from a comment from Charlie. He had explained to her to be like Dr Hale. Adam was guessing that this distinction was due to a shared love of sarcasm and irony. A subject that put Adam''s reaction predicting on the threshold. While it was usually obvious, if it was done ironically or not, it was not always so. With poker being a game of deception, it was obvious that this threw a wrench in the gears. He needed further study, to be accurate. And, for the last member of the group, there was Francis. A near-complete blank. While the others had communicated verbally at least once, the only noticeable reaction had been a slight nod. Nothing else. Even the pupils moved less frequently than the average. Adam was wondering if Francis even used his eyes. If he did, he seemed to have such a fascination for the floor. What was so fascinating about a flat surface? Could be a clue to his personality. Francis required further study, like all others. Altogether, the preparations had progressed more than what Adam had hoped for. If the AI was lucky, there was even a chance of them being ready. Chapter 23: Aggregation
"I just don''t understand it!", Charlie loudly proclaimed. "What does he want with me? All his excuses for why he pesters me changes rapidly! I know he has a reason for it all, but he doesn''t want to tell me. And, every time I confront him about it, he just comes with some dumb excuse, about checking my mental health. Cant, he just see that I''m fine? Okay, I may see where he is coming from. For the last month, my work schedule may have been a little confusing to the naked eye. But, you all have to understand, passion is not something you can control. Either it''s there, or it isn''t there. Sometimes, I work for forty hours straight, and sometimes I take a five-day weekend. There isn''t anything weird about it when you''re thinking of the right reasons." "You know", Zep began. "I think you just need to install a lock on your door." "I refuse", Charlie instantly refuted. "Arent laboratory doors supposed to have one, to start with?" Darlow asked. "Well, technically yes," Charlie said. "But, I removed it." "Why?" Zep asked. "For science!" "Of course", Emse said with a monotone voice. "For there is no greater purpose than that of science." As the group walked down the street, to get to the casino, a conversation began. This conversation was participated in by mostly other people than Troy, who was trying to just take a backseat. The initial impression may not have gone as planned, but if he didn''t screw up more, it could still end up successful. "That is rich, coming from you, Esme", Zep said. "Can your job even be called scientific?" "Everything can be called science", Emse defended. "But, not all of us call gardening science," Darlow pointed out and adding a cough to the end. "Botany is a valid, scientific study," Esme said. "You can just tell yourself that when you go to sleep at night." "How is your profession any better? Your whole foundation is built on false numbers." "It is not!", Zep said. "We just haven''t found the link, yet." "Your centre has been trying for half a century," Darlow said. Troy wondered if he just liked to spice up the drama. "With those results, don''t you think there may just not be any?" "That would imply that one of the theories are false, which we are not gonna try to consider." "What are your jobs even?" Troy asked, much to his horror. That was meant to be a simple thought! Not a spoken question. The focus was put on Troy. "Oh, yeah," Charlie said. "You don''t really know that much about us. Guess that should be expected. Okay, guys, I''m not gonna be explaining your jobs, so I''ll just let you try to figure that one out. Esme, you''re first." Esme sighed, like talking was hard, now that it was required of her. "Okay¡­", she began, drawing out the first word. "I''m a botanist. My focus, in my valid study, is one plant morphology. Done. Next." A controller of plants, Troy surmised. "That''s me", Zep said. "I work in the Augmentation department, with an organic focus. Same department as Charlie, but in a different subgroup. Simple. Darlow, it''s your turn." "Medicinal chemistry," Darlow stated, with no further explanation. "Then there''s me, of course," Charlie said. "As you know, from my flattering explanations of my expertise, and partly from Zep, I work in the Augmentation department. There, I focus on the mechanical side of things. The organic side is simply too restricting for my standards. And, it would be even better, if we were allowed to incorporate Nuclear tech-" "I think the kid has heard enough", Zep cut in. "Francis your turn." Oh. Troy almost forgot about him. Which was strange. With that bald top of his, it was hard to fathom that Troy would ever forget that particular detail about him. Francis looked up at the group. Then at Troy. Then back to the group. "Come on, Francis", Charlie encouraged. Francis narrowed his eyes slightly, before releasing air through his nostrils. "Antimemetics", he answered. "Sorry," Troy said. "What?" Troy couldn''t say he had heard of it before. "Don''t expect any answers, Troy", Darlow said. "We can''t all explain our work. For different reasons of course. Francis here has explained it too many times to count. But, you just can''t keep the details about it in your head." Well, that didn''t make any sense to Troy. "That''s all of us", Zep surmised. "Not, it''s his turn." "That''s fair", Charlie said. "Hey, Troy. Quick detail about your job, please?" This wasn''t good. No, this wasn''t good at all. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Troy was in a tight spot. Being asked to explain his job was a sore point. Could he just say he was an assistant to Dr Hale? No. The others said which subject they focused on. Troy couldn''t really explain that he worked with AI. ¡­ Or could he? There hadn''t been any specific mention about it being secret. The only proof of it, was when Dr Hale stopped him from telling Charlie. But, that could just have been to annoy him. So, Troy wasn''t too sure, if that even counted, to begin with. Troy just made a decision. If he thought more about it, he would just be stalling. "I work with AI, as an assistant," Troy said. He was about to explain more, but the reactions he got stopped him. They laughed. Oh, how they laughed. It was, as if, Troy had just told the funniest joke in the world. Except for Francis of course. He was just walking, like normal. "Oh, that is a joke for the ages", Zep said. "If you aren''t allowed to tell us what you''re working with, just inform us about it," Darlow informed Troy. "Yeah, we won''t delve further into it, if you tell us not to," Charlie continued, with a clap on Troy''s back. Okay, that was beginning to get a little weird, with all those claps of his. How Troy wanted to sigh in relief. No more questions would help him keep his face straight. He would have it easy, even, if not for the weird look Francis was giving him. ---------------------------------- Adam was confused. A joke had been told. That much was clear. But, when was it told, and why did it take them so much time to react to it. And how were they able to realise it in sync. Was what Troy told them part of the joke? ''I work with AI, as an assistant.'' Was there some trigger, for an earlier sentence of his, ingrained in the meanings of the words? No. That couldn''t be it. Troy had been unusually quiet, for some time now. But, it had to be something he had done. Jokes, which involve two or more people, had more signs than this. To further disprove that idea, Adam had observed no prior planning. Maybe¡­ Maybe, it was the way he walked? From Adam''s observations, walks showed so much about the person. At the basic observational levels, one could get the average height of people, simply from the distance of their footfalls. In snow, if Adam ever got to see it himself, it could even be used to gauge the weight, by the depth of their footprints. And it wasn''t restricted to just physical estimates either. Oh no, it showed so much more. The way a person put their foot down, gave out information about their current mood. For now, Adam wasn''t too accurate in his estimates with this subject. This was due to his earlier, limited sample size, of three unique people. Now, with it increased to eight semi-constant samples, Adam could hone this skill into a usable form. Finding the age wasn''t even too unrealistic. Depending on how much one swayed their feet as they walked, implied the general musculature of the person; something that generally correlated with one''s age. For now, Adam has observed this. In a very simplified model, most humans unconsciously changed their gait to fit into their current mood. When one stiffly wandered forward, with a hasty pace, it implied a walk of focus, where they have a direct destination. When one rambled trough, not placing their feet too effectively, a feeling of leisure mostly accompanied it. There were many other walks, but Adam wasn''t too sure about them all. Tiptoeing, as an example, could mean a certain amount of happiness, yet it could also be used to express anger, a complete opposite. The system used simply loved opposites having the same reaction. From a logical standpoint, it made some mediocre amount of sense, but for Adam''s needs, it was terrible. ¡­ What was he thinking about? Oh yeah, the joke. Adam was getting too focused on the semantics of it. A reasonable assumption about the joke would be, that Troy wasn''t intentionally joking, when- ''Hey, buddy. Got a minute or two?'', Dr Fidelis asked out of nowhere. Why was he communicating with Adam at such a time?... Oh, Adam had a reason. A reason that would impair his current goals. ''Depends. Do you mean a literal minute, or do you mean a longer amount of time?'', Adam sent. ''I''d just love it if it took a minute, but, no. It will likely take about... ten minutes?'', Dr Fidelis quickly sent back. This was bad. ''Then, no. My current projects are taking up my time.'', Adam answered. ''That sucks, for you, buddy. Cause I have deadlines, which I can''t break, and all your deadlines are self-confined.'', Dr Fidelis sent. This was bad. While Adam had some skill in his multi-tasking abilities, it did not reach far enough to fit his current needs. Having a full-on conversation, while also analysing the movements of so many people, was simply impossible for him currently. Could he just speed himself up? No. That wouldn''t work for two reasons. While it wouldn''t prove problematic during the debriefing, Adam still had not experienced slowed down voices. And he didn''t think it would be a good idea to test his capabilities in comprehension during an unrelated test. And, to make the idea all the worse, he couldn''t go back to his original perception of time, after speeding up. Adam would need an external clock for that, and Dr Fidelis likely didn''t have one on hand any more. Dr Fidelis had mentioned dismantling it during the last debriefing, so the clock could be integrated with Adam at a later date. So, with the debriefing needing to be done, Adam needed to put his analyzing on hold. Not for long though. ''Will it be a maximum of ten minutes?'', Adam asked. ''I can cut it down to that if you answer quickly.'', Dr Fidelis suggested. ''Then let us do the debriefing.'', he sent. ''Great! I''ll just set it up quickly.'' Adam needed to notify Troy about this.
"Listen", Charlie started. "Some strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony." "Be quiet!", Zep nearly hissed out. "Well, you can''t expect to wield executive power just because some watery tart threw a sword at you," Charlie continued. You know, Troy had been putting in a lot of effort, in establishing himself in the group. This included giving the speakers his full attention. But, even with that, Troy had no freaking idea, why they began talking about politics. None of them was drunk, yet, so why had they started something so stupid and inane? "Why did you even start discussing this? You knew he wouldn''t give up his opinions, even if they are wrong," Darlow said, adding to the growing fire. "It''s not my fault he criticized the current system of government election," Zep pointed out. "But, it is your fault for giving your opinion", Esme added. "Not helping, Esme," Zep said. "I''m not trying to help," Esme clarified. "Look. Can we all just agree that the current system is not perfect? It has flaws. But, if we try to change it, we''ll just fuck it up even more," Darlow said, trying now to be moderate in the whole context. "Never!", Charlie proudly proclaimed. "Why would I agree with his idealistic world-view?" Zep said, agreeing with Charlie''s proclamation. Oh, Troy just knew that the whole thing wouldn''t stop for too long of a time. Troy looked over at Francis, to see how he was doing. To his surprise, Francis didn''t even have his eyes open. Just for some refreshing, they were walking down a semi-crowded street, dodging people near-constantly. This man was doing all that while having his eyes completely closed. How? Just¡­ how? Troy just kept staring at him. Without opening his eyes, or otherwise letting light into them, Francis looked over at Troy. It was as if he could feel Troy''s stare on his side. Yeah, Troy did not involve himself with that, instead just thinking ''nope'' over and over again. Just looking forward seemed much more fun. But, all in all, things seemed to go well for him. While the introductions had gone off to a rocky start, it had streamlined itself at this point. And Adam had not reported any- Oh, no. No, no-no. ''Bad news. Dr Fidelis has called me in for a debriefing. He says it will take a maximum of ten minutes, but I''m not sure on the truthfulness of it. I can''t analyse during it. Please, try to delay the start of the poker game, for as long as possible.'', Adam sent. And, off Troy had gone, running his mouth. This wasn''t good. He needed to do something soon, or his trump card wouldn''t be usable.
"Do you mind if I put on some music?" Dr Fidelis asked, while setting everything up. The microphone was all good, so Adam was already able to hear him. ''Will it lengthen the debriefing?'', Adam sent. "Not particularly, no," Dr Fidelis said. ''Then, I have no qualms with music.'' And, in all technicality, Adam had never heard music before. So, hearing it wouldn''t be too terrible. "Great! I''ll just put on my playlist¡­ there. Perfect. Classical music really does ease the mind." Adam couldn''t agree with that statement. What exactly made more stimulation feel like less than the original amount of stimulation? It didn''t make sense, in Adam''s mind. The looping nature of the music could be it, but that was just a quick theory. "Anyway. Should we get started?" Dr Fidelis asked, sitting down on the chair in front of the camera. Adam still wasn''t sure why he needed to see Dr Fidelis''s face but did not complain about it. It did help him make a larger model of facial expressions. ''Lets.'' Without further ado, Dr Fidelis'' face twisted to serious. A rather radical change. Even the mannerisms disappeared, replaced by newer, more nuanced, ones. "Let''s focus first on the latest completed test; The Blue Puzzle. During the end of this puzzle, Troy Maxwell, your guide, tried to jokingly persuade you into striking from testing. While this never actualized itself, through the context of his words, you showed a larger interest in doing so. Can you tell me why that is?" This was gonna be a long one. Adam couldn''t believe that Dr Fidelis only said it would take ten minutes. Chapter 24: Conscription
Oh, this wasn''t turning out good at all. Where did it all go wrong? Troy had planned it all out. Use Adam to play the poker game, and gain better results that way. Simple. So, how exactly could he screw that up! A debriefing meeting? Troy didn''t even know that Adam had those. But, looking back at it now, it was obvious to have. It was weird, that Troy was not being debriefed actually. But, maybe it was just a weekly thing for him instead. Who knows. The point of it all was; Troy was spiralling into a pile of figurative shit, and he needed to steer it away. Adam said he would be back. For his own mental stability, Troy needed to believe that, for as long as possible. In the meantime, he needed to delay the group for as long as he possibly could. But¡­ how the heck was he supposed to do that? Troy pondered this, as they walked down the street. They had actually been walking down it for quite a while now. If Troy remembered correctly, they would be upon the casino in- "The light of heaven shines upon us", Charlie loudly proclaimed. How he said such things in front of others, baffled Troy to his core. Even more, the people around them didn''t even spare Charlie a glance. It must be a regular thing, Troy surmised. What a horrible reality he lived in. "Could you please just call it a casino", Darlow pleaded. "That''s dumb", Charlie refuted, without anything to back his claim up. "What''s dumb about calling it what it is?" "It is uncreative. You can never have a full appreciation for something if you can''t have a new name for it, every time you see it," Charlie explained. Troy thought back to the tour with Charlie. On it, he was pretty sure Charlie had just called it a casino like a normal person. "Yeah, you guys can just argue senselessly out here", Zep said. "Me? I''m going inside. I have money to waste." Darlow followed. "I think you''re supposed to say ''money to win''," he said. "I''m just being honest, sprout", Zep retorted. Francis walked in behind the two, without a word or glance to others still standing outside. "Come on", Esme said. "Nothing to do out here. Except for adultery, of course. But I don''t think we can get away with that a seventh time." And she walked inside too, leaving Charlie and Troy just standing outside. "Are you ready?" Charlie asked the clearly nervous Troy. The reason for the nervousness was up for debate, though. "Yeah, sure," Troy replied. "Nothing stressful about the current situation at all." "That''s the spirit!", Charlie said, completely ignoring Troy''s blatant wording choices. "Come on! We have some credits to exchange." And in the two went. One in great spirits, the other something of a nervous wreck.
''Defining it as a willingness to strike, might be a little presumptuous of you.'', Adam said. He himself would define it as such. But, on paper, it didn''t sound so good to say such things. "How so?" Dr Fidelis asked. "You expressed interest in striking. Does that not satisfy willingness to do so?" Through the microphone that Adam was strapped into, he could hear the classical music changing. Now, the melody had a faster tone to it. ''No, it does not. While I did express interest in doing a strike, this was only to gain knowledge about the subject, and the effects it would cause. I was not interested in achieving these effects, for anything other than scientific research.'', Adam clarified. "That is good to hear. Let the record state, that I see this as a reasonable explanation, for questionable interest and actions." That was easy. "Next on the agenda for today¡­ your methods of assessing truth from lies." Not as easy. Adam couldn''t complain about it, though, or Dr Fidelis would just lengthen the debriefing, so he could talk about his feelings again.
The casino wasn''t as grand, as the night before. Troy might even call it a little cramped. Not from the size of the place, of course. But, he felt trapped inside its walls. That¡­ was not a good sign, in his own personal assessment. Still, there was a good amount of people inside. The street outside may have been a little crowded, but this place took the cake. Did these people really like gambling that much? The others had gone somewhere Troy couldn''t see, likely to acquire the group a table to use. This left Troy and Charlie together. "Let''s get ourselves some of those tokens", Charlie declared. "Credits won''t do us much good here." This caused Troy to think back to the earlier night. "I thought you had some in your pocket," Troy stated, slightly confused. "Oh, I do", Charlie confirmed. "But, that''s just one of my secret stashes. It is exclusively for emergency situations. No point in using them, when I have a way to transfer credits instead." That made sense to Troy, at least. Even though he couldn''t think of any instances, outside of the casino, where a token was necessary, there had to be some. Also, there had to be one good reason, for why Charlie even started doing so. Maybe, it was not used as currency but used for its shape. In the right hands, those tokens could be used as emergency screwdrivers¡­ No, that was just Troy''s city bias skewing his thoughts. But then, what else could it be? Emergency weapon? Troy sure didn''t want those things put in his eyes. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Yet, in such a scenario, where tokens could be used, wouldn''t fingers be more effective? You know, more pressure could be used. Maybe, he should just leave it, as unusual equipment for unusual circumstances. Nothing specific. That was the point. Troy took himself back to reality. Charlie was beginning to stare, with Troy''s unexplained silence. What were they talking about? ¡­ Oh, yeah. The casino tokens. "How do you even exchange the credits to tokens?" Troy asked Charlie. "Oh, its a bit complicated, if I''m being honest with you", Charlie explained. "You need a whole account set up, just to start with." "Is it harder than getting credits?" Troy asked. "No, it''s much easier than getting those damn things," Charlie answered. "Most things are easier here, than getting that particular form filled." An opportunity to delay the game had shown itself. And, Troy wasn''t gonna be letting it pass by. "Well, if it is simpler, wouldn''t it be a good idea, for me to learn how to do it, at the earliest moment?" Troy stated. "If we waited in getting me into the system, it would just impede us further down the line." The words seemed to surprise Charlie. If it was positive or not, Troy wasn''t too sure. "Are you sure?" Charlie asked hesitantly. "While it isn''t too hard, it can take a good chunk of our time." This wasn''t going the way Troy wanted it to. Charlie needed to commend him for his choices and go along with it. Not show non-adherence to it. He needed to twist this to his own side. "I''m sure, it won''t take too much time", Troy began, throwing out his most charismatic voice. "And besides, the others will probably take just as long, in setting the table up." Troy wasn''t exactly sure if they were setting the table up, or just doing something else. But, the point still stood. "Well¡­ ", Charlie began. "If you''re sure." "I am," Troy confirmed hastily. "Then¡­ let''s go get these tokens," Charlie said, walking forward. Troy just followed. "First stop; The registration desk." It seemed that Troy still had a chance. Adam just needed to hurry up.
Adam was not hurrying up. He would have liked to, but Dr Fidelis didn''t let him. As of now, they had been at it for a good seven minutes. This didn''t sound so bad at first until one realised that they were not even halfway done. At least, by Adam approximations. "So, explain this to me again", Dr Fidelis started. "You say, that you can detect lies or general deceit, by the position of people''s tongues?" Adam regretted trying to be quick. In doing so, he had just thrown out too many examples, without fulfilling each expected amount of explanations. This left Dr Fidelis asking into every single thing Troy had mentioned. ''I am not too sure about the mechanics of this phenomena. I have mostly studied it analytically.'', Adam sent out. "That is still data, that can be conferred", Dr Fidelis pointed out. "Could you please try to do so." That wasn''t even implied to be a question. It was a full-out order. ''Through other methods of detection, I have been able to point out lies. Using this, I have studied the different states and positions and had their tongue in, while, and after, lying. In most cases, after lying, the human body tenses up by a lesser amount. This is also common to happen in the tongue, making it point slightly upward. Again, the only test subject in this analysis was my assistant, Troy Maxwell. Therefore the data can be skewed, and outright wrong, in the most extreme case.'' "Thank you, for the warning," Dr Fidelis said. "Now, I believe that I''ve forgotten to mention the music, which is currently playing in the background. Adam, do you have any comment on the content?" ''No, I do not. Can we focus on the debriefing, please?'' Oh, Adam just knew he had messed up, after saying that. "Why do you have such a fixation on the debriefing system?" Dr Fidelis asked, much to Adam''s regrets. This was taking too long.
Troy had hit the jackpot. A few minutes had already passed, and they weren''t even at the desk. There was a line! A god-given gift, in Troy''s eyes. In Charlie''s, though, it was more than a bit different. "Are you really sure, we should be doing this now?" Charlie asked. "The line hasn''t moved that much, yet. The others are probably done setting it all up." Not good. He needed some pressure to stay, it seemed. "We have plenty of time", Troy assured Charlie. Though, it mostly sounded like he was assuring himself, of the fact. "We have plenty of time to work with. And, if we go out of the line now, we''ll have wasted the last few minutes we stood here." Troy had actually read up on that! Right now, they were at a potential loss. If they stepped out of the line, it would register as a definite loss. But, if they stayed in the line, the potential loss would grow, but also give the chance of turning into a victory. It didn''t make sense to Troy, but the brain worked in mysterious ways, and he wasn''t questioning that fact. Charlie seemed to be debating his choices, weighing it all in his head. This all culminated in him sighing. "We''ll stay here", he said. Oh, how happy that statement made Troy! "But", Charlie began. "If we aren''t first in five minutes, I''m just giving you half of the emergency tokens, and then we''ll find the rest of the group. Deal?" Troy had no good, explainable reason to say no, much to his displeasure. "Deal."
"So how did that make you feel?" Dr Fidelis pressed on. Eleven minutes had now passed. One minute over the told maximum. Adam wanted to point it out but was afraid that it would lengthen the whole debacle even more. ''Irritated.'', Adam sent. "Full sentences, please. ''I feel'' statements if you prefer," Dr Fidelis clarified. When did this turn into a psychological assessment? This was not even inside the spectrum of Dr Fidelis'' regular profession. This part should have been done by Dr Hale if you asked Adam about it. ''The sarcasm was annoying, in the least. I understand, where he might be coming from. Repretetive work is not for every sane entity. But, I have expectations of him. This is his job. He is supposed to assist me, in any way, that I request.'', Adam explained. "Something that you said there, isn''t what we''re looking for in a partnership," Dr Fidelis stated. "While, yes, Troy is supposed to follow your orders, his mental health is therefore in your hands. It is a big responsibility, and something you need to think about every time you give him requests. Some of your orders may have seemed fair from your perspective. But, from mine, and likely from Troy''s as well, they have looked to be gruelling to perform." This actually interested Adam. A contradicting world-view was always so. ''Could you give me an example of these unjust requests of mine?'', Adam asked. "Any particular reason, for this request of yours?" Dr Fidelis asked. Why did he make it so hard? Adam understood that he was making a show for the camera''s, but did he have to lay it on so thickly? ''To understand my downturns, and hopefully improve them in the future.'', Adam stated. Dr Fidelis paused, before swiftly nodding. "Your reason is valid," he began. "Due to our lack of surveillance of your exact words, we have been relying on context, through the words spoken by Troy Maxwell. Particularly, his frequent mutterings, of what seems to be repeats of your orders. One of these mutterings is what initially caught my attention. During the latest test, at one of the last phases, Troy Maxwell was under heavy stress. This caused a variety of symptoms. One of which was involuntary eye twitch. From what we''ve gathered, you berated Troy for this. Is the research of ours not correct?" ''It is. And thank you for the example. In the future, I will try to refrain from criticizing involuntary actions caused by the nature of the testing.'', Adam sent. He was specific on his promises though. The critique was something he felt was needed everywhere. How could one improve, if they didn''t know where they failed? "It is of no hindrance. Shall we continue?" Dr Fidelis asked. Of course, there was more. There would always be more.
In under five minutes, Troy and Charlie were finally at the desk. On the other side, sat a automation, with one of those realistic plastic faces. It was supposed to have a smile, but Troy thought it swayed more towards the sadistic department of looks. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you today?" it asked, with a jovial, business tone. "Hello," Charlie quickly said, before Troy got the chance to speak. "My friend is new here, and looking to get through the papers, so he can exchange credits to tokens. Is there any way you could assist us with that." "Certainly," the automation said. On the metal desk, a holographic document appeared, written in text so small, that Troy had to squint to even recognize the letters. A standard practice nowadays, if one ignored the legal implications of it. The automation handed a pen out toward the two. "Please sign, and we''ll get you started instantly," the automation stated. Instantly, huh? That didn''t sound slow enough for Troy''s taste. But, from the look in Charlie''s eyes, Troy would need to speed it up a little, if they were even going to go through the whole process. Troy scribbled out his signature, and the holographic image disappeared. "Processing. Please wait for a- Done. You can now use the automatic exchangers to your right, to exchange currencies," the automation. "Please have a nice day, and step out of the way." "Come on", Charlie said, nearly pulling Troy along. "Nearly done, now." He said that as if it was a good thing. Chapter 25: Commotion
"And, is there any final comment, you want to leave this with, Adam?" Dr Fidelis asked. Adam processed that sentence a few times more than necessary. Was what he presumed to be happening actually happening? Were they done? ''No. I do not.'', Adam sent, with as little word usage as possible. No leads, that could make Dr Fidelis come through another whole tirade. Throughout this whole debriefing, it had become obvious that he would take any opportunity to delve deeper into the meanings behind Adam. Why exactly Dr Fidelis had wanted to know Adam''s preference on shrimps, he would never know. Because Adam wasn''t stupid enough to ask into it. That would just lead on to another loop of Adam''s goals in life. If he could shudder in horror, Adam would have done so. Oh, the things he had said, to get out of this conversation. Those things weren''t meant to be revealed. But they had, and he would regret it all for approximately five more minutes before he figured out a way to use it to his advantage. "If you''re sure", Dr Fidelis stated. He reached over to his right side, his hand coming just out of the frame. A couple of quick taps were made. "And¡­ We. Are. Done." Finally. ''Does this mean that I can get back to my other projects?'', Adam sent. "Not yet," Dr Fidelis stated. "I actually have a few questions of my own." Why was this happening? They were seven minutes over schedule. Adam should be back with the test, that Troy had already sat up. He didn''t want to put off the impression that he didn''t appreciate Troy''s efforts. ''Your personal questions are not on any specific deadline. And, if they are, they are deadlines set by yourself, which will have no consequences outside of your annoyance.'', Adam said, using Dr Fidelis'' argument against him. "And, that''s fair of you to say", Dr Fidelis started. "But¡­ I have a reason or two, which might convince you to answer them." ''What are these reasons?'', Adam asked. "They will help speed up the efficiency in the creation of new tests. If I know more about your current thoughts about a few things, I might just be able to cut out a few unimportant bits of planned tests. This, my friend will streamline the whole thing. Sounds interesting, right?" ¡­ Okay, this might have sounded a little hypocritical of Adam, but maybe Troy could wait a minute more. He would understand after Adam explained it to him. Yes, delaying the departure to Troy''s input would hamper any future irregular tests. But, if he stayed for a few more moments, Adam could increase the quality of any future regular tests. While, yes, Adam couldn''t reasonably weigh the standard quality of both standards of tests, he could make a quick assumption. He hoped that the assumption would pay off. ''Please, be quick.'', Adam requested. He could see Dr Fidelis grin. "That''s what I like to hear!", he loudly said. "Okay, I''ll be as quick as I possibly can." Adam rather doubted that. Earlier statements with such promises had not been too accurate. ''Please begin your questioning.'', Adam encouraged. While he did give the opportunity of better prospects some leeway, it wouldn''t do good to give it all it asked for. "Of course, of course. Just getting reading the document through", Dr Fidelis said. "I have to make sure, that I do this right." He fiddled with the screen, that was just out of sight. It took approximately thirty full seconds before anything worthwhile showed on Dr Fidelis'' face. "There we go", Dr Fidelis finally said. "Let us start, with an easy one. What gender would you prefer?" What? ''Could you give some clarification on your question, please.'', Adam quickly sent. "If you were to inhabit a human body, with your complete choosing, what biological gender would it be?" Dr Fidelis clarified. "Not that hard a question. There''s only two to choose from." Oh, how Adam wanted more reference points, on why exactly Dr Fidelis asked these questions. But¡­ time isn''t infinite when it came to Adam''s restrictions, so those were filed for the future. So, what was it gonna be? What biological gender should Adam choose? The first choice would be the male gender. Adam was already told to use male pronouns, so it would fit perfectly, right? That was the societal way of looking at the problem. Adam was getting the hypothetical chance to inhabit a female body. Before, he had been restricted to Troy, who Adam had scanned more times than humans could reasonably count. If he chose a female body, the raw data could be worth it. But¡­ that was under the assumption that he couldn''t get the data elsewhere. If Adam asked, he was sure Dr Fidelis would likely give it to him. And, getting back on social aspects, having a female body, and using male pronouns would cause clarification needed with every new person. An unnecessary hassle, in Adam''s eyes. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The choice was made. ''I would choose a male body.'', Adam answered. "As expected", Dr Fidelis said, quickly noting it down on the screen. "Next question; how old would you prefer the body to be?" These weren''t questions, that Adam had seen coming. ''Could you tell me, what these questions will be used for?'', Adam asked. "What do you think they are for?" Dr Fidelis fired back. It was a test, yes. Adam already knew that. This whole debacle of not being able to tell details about tests were just getting to Adam. Of course, there were reasons for this rule, but it didn''t help him when he needed information. Dr Fidelis didn''t even say, that he would confirm or deny Adam''s prediction. Even Troy did that. Troy¡­ Dr Fidelis was asking, what specifications Adam would like to inhabit. This wasn''t meant, as him controlling the body. No, this was¡­ ''Are you replacing Troy, and getting me a new assistant?'', Adam asked. This caused something a pair of raised eyebrows. They nearly hit Dr Fidelis'' hair. "God, no!", Dr Fidelis proclaimed, with an abashed voice. "Troy''s work may not have been perfect, but he has the needed work ethic, and that''s all we need here. Why would you think I would replace him?" Adam wasn''t sure what he should feel from hearing that. ''It was the only logical assumption that I could figure out. The constants are; to gain effectiveness on future tests, and you are asking about my preferences in human bodies. It was reasonable to assume, a replacement was planned, and that you wanted my input in the specifications in the new candidate.'', Adam explained. Dr Fidelis seemed to want to retort immediately, but something Adam said caused him to stop. Adam saw him leaning back in his chair humming to himself. "That is a fair assumption", Dr Fidelis said, with a thoughtful tone. "But¡­ it''s not the correct assumption. Not even close, if I''m being fair with you." This wasn''t good news, to Adam, who had been hoping for hasty results. ''Then, what was it?'', Adam sent out. Dr Fidelis just looked at the camera with a smile. It was enough of an answer for Adam. ''I''ll go back to my projects now. If you have any more questions, we can do so at a later time.'' "Oh, wait, will you? I only have a-", Dr Fidelis started but was cut out of Adam''s awareness. It was time to get back to Troy.
"And then, you slide down on this button," Charlie said. "If you''ve done it correctly, your tokens will emerge from here." He pointed to the large bowl to the side of the clunky box. They were still in front of the exchangers. Charlie had originally wanted to just do it for Troy, but he had been able to talk him over. Of course, why only learn half of a subject, when you could learn it all at once? The only thing, that had been stopping them was willpower. Charlie had relented, and now he was trying to quickly go through everything about the machine. "Any question yet?" Charlie asked. Another opportunity. Troy knew that it had to be annoying at this point, but he just had to continue doing it. "Yes, actually", Troy began. "Just stop me, if anything I say is wrong. The method you just showed me; it will let me exchange many credits into the appropriate number of casino tokens. Nothing wrong yet?" "Nope. Everything''s fine," Charlie confirmed. "Good. Now, what I''m wondering about, is how I can get a specific kind of casino tokens. Currently, the machine gives you the least amount of tokens it can. What if, I just want to lay constant, low bids some night, and need only fivers. How could I do that?" "Well, you would¡­ ", Charlie began but stopped himself. He looked at the machine. "Huh," Charlie said. "I''m¡­ not sure how, if I''m being perfectly honest. Never had the need myself, so I never learned how to. To be frank, I''m not sure, if it''s even possible." A chance to delay the whole process even further. "Maybe, we should just ask at the desk?" Troy suggested. "Oh, hell no. We are not doing that again." Charlie stated, with no room for argument. "If you ever need to trade lower tokens, just ask one of the automation at the blackjack tables. They''ll gladly do it for you." Damn. An opportunity wasted. And Troy wasn''t getting any ideas on how to elongate Charlie''s explanation. "Any more questions?" Charlie asked. Question, questions, questions. He needed to ask about something. Anything! But, not anything, to be even more confusing to himself. It had to make sense. Had to be something, that would confuse any normal person. ¡­ Troy couldn''t think of anything. He was at a complete blank. "No", Troy answered, with a stillness to his voice. "You seem sad, saying that", Charlie said. Suspicion was the least of Troy''s current problems. "Just the nerves", Troy explained. A decent deflection, in his eyes. "Well, those nerves should focus on something else for a while," Charlie encouragingly said. "That is the number one rule of poker. Never drop the mask. It takes a while to get into that state, maybe, so you should properly try to get into it, while we go there." Charlie seemed to be back to his cheerful state. Troy had been worried by his lack of showmanship. From his perspective, Charlie should have been jumping about, when complaining about the line, but he''d just stood like a normal person. What was his trigger? That could be something, to think about. All the while, Troy desperately tried to distract himself from the public execution of shame, that he soon had to endure. Should Troy just get it over with, and tell Charlie the truth? No, he had already gone over all the reasons that were a bad move. But, what else could he do? Play it himself? ¡­ That wasn''t too bad of an idea if Troy thought about it. Yes, he was likely crap at it, he could probably fake till he learnt it. Poker couldn''t be that hard, right? If he just bit his lip and tried as hard as he- ''I''m back,'' Adam suddenly said. Oh, thank you, god of blood. May the river flow freely for you. Play poker himself? Who was he kidding? He had never played it! What chance was there to play against experts in the game. The experience of one session could never match the experience of decades. "If that''s your definition of a poker face, you might be in the wrong place," Charlie said, with a joking tone. "Oh? I thought it was pretty good", Troy defended, with an equal amount of joviality. "Faking reactions gives fake ideas." Charlie laughed like Troy said a joke. Troy didn''t think it as a joke. "That might work with beginners", Charlie began. "But, with this group, any reaction, and they can see your very soul. Or, just what''s closest to it." ''Can you nod, if I missed anything important?'', Adam sent. Troy took a small survey of the last, nearly twenty minutes. Nothing popped out, he didn''t nod. ¡­ ''I''ll take that as a no. Though, communication will have to be preplanned in the future.'', Adam sent. With ''the future'', they Adam mean for any future tests or¡­ like five minutes. Troy couldn''t ask, but he oh so wanted to know. "I can''t say that what you''re doing is a valid strategy", Charlie pointed out to Troy. "Just making silly faces won''t mask your true intentions well enough." "Have you ever tried making silly faces doing poker?" Troy defended. As a side note, he tried to remember to not make any faces while communicating with Adam. "I have made countless silly faces during professional, poker games," Charlie retorted, with a matter-of-factly tone. "This also includes rude gestures, sayings about my own body, sayings about their bodies, sayings about their mothers'' body, and also their father'' body. I do have pride, though, so I have stayed away from uncles and aunts. That''s a sore spot for too many of our group. The point is; I''ve tried nearly all the shock tactics. They work, of course. But, they don''t work as efficiently as total stone faces. Pure math in that. Take notes there." While Troy didn''t, he was sure Adam did. That reminded him, Adam was still supposed to still be learning the people''s reactions. Was that not possible, now that they were only him and Charlie? Maybe it was best if Troy didn''t think about it too much. Faith in Adam was enough for today. As they walked further down the tables, Troy began to recognize a few faces. "And, there we have those bastards", Charlie mumbled, with a grin. "Ready to start the second-best night of your whole life?" Was he? He could lose everything he had carefully built up. But, Troy could also get so much more. The tokens jingled in his pockets, reminding him further of the stakes of the day. Real money was at play. A certain currency, that Troy had been too reliant on for too much time. ''We are ready to begin the test.'', Adam sent to Troy only. It seemed that he didn''t need to answer that himself. Troy walked forward just a bit faster, ready to take it all on. Chapter 26: Evasion
"Where were you people?" Zep asked. "We were wondering when you would finally show up." Charlie just laughed, at Zep''s outraged face. Troy just stood to the side, trying out that new stone-face technique of his. From the inside, it didn''t seem to work, as Zep''s face softened slightly, after looking at his face. Troy prayed that she didn''t think what he just thought she did. "Sorry, sorry," Charlie continuously apologized. "I tried to be smart about this whole thing. Troy is still new here, so he needs the whole account set up. It all turned into a massive waiting in line." Taking the blame, now? That was surprising. Troy didn''t mind it terribly much, but it still felt unjust to him. "That was stupid of you", Esme helpfully pointed out. "Just do it online, and get the paper sent directly to you." "Wait, you could do that?" Darlow said. "Of course you can. Is the air thin up there, or something?" Esme rhetorically asked. "Now, that''s a low blow," Darlow said. "And, does that apply to other paperwork signings as well?" "First off, I would like to call it a high blow", Zep said, much to Esme''s pleasure. "To your dumb question, yes, you can. Are you telling me that for the last twenty years, you have been going to physical locations, so you could sign legal documents?" "... No." "You have!", Esme said. "Oh, this is just hilarious." "Nobody told me, so why should I have known that?" Darlow quipped back. Troy and Charlie were just slowly walking over to the table, and finding themselves a seat. They had gotten off, without too much shouting, and had wordlessly agreed to act like nothing. How this communication found took place, without the two even looked at each other, will continue to be one of man''s greatest secrets. The barrage continued down on Darlow for a little while more. Troy didn''t think that it was too far out of fairness. He and Charlie had not known about it either. Well, it made sense for Troy not to know about it. He had only been working here for a few days. When it came to Charlie, though¡­ "How long have you even worked here?" Troy asked Charlie. "About fifteen years, give or take," Charlie answered with a shrug. "I don''t keep count, to be partial with you. The numbers are too depressing to look at. Started as an assistant. Wanted to quit, while still being an assistant. But, I got promoted just before my resignation and did not read the paperwork. How smart I was back then." The last tone had just a hint of bitterness, over the usual carelessness. That last bit about paperwork seemed like something Troy should probably ask into. He didn''t think he was getting promoted soon, if ever, but details that appeared annoying was likely something he should work to avoid. "What do you mean by-" Troy began asking but was cut off by another, louder voice. "Everyone, shut up!", Zep nearly roared. "We were supposed to start five minutes ago, and not all of us have time to laze so much about. Is everyone ready?" Around Troy and Charlie, the others confirmed their readiness, either by vocally stating so, nodding, or grunting. Francis was the only one in the last department. "What do you think your chances are?" Charlie whispered to Troy. What were his chances? ''If we ignore air resistance as a concept, we have an ideal twenty per cent chance of winning.'', Adam supplied, without even being asked. "Not too bad," Troy whispered back. This seemed to satisfy Charlie, who went back to a standard sitting position and putting the focus on the yelling Zep. Troy imitated him. Zep looked at him expectantly, and he hurried in nodding. "Everybody''s ready", she said to the automation, which was fastened to the side of the table. It looked like they were playing with a poker dealer. Not too game-changing, seeing as they were in a casino. "Then the game shall begin", the automation said, pulling a card deck out of nowhere. "Please take your seats, everyone. The game is starting." Oh, it was on, Troy thought.
The automation was not technically wrong. But it didn''t fit with Adam''s worldview. For the last two minutes, he had been furiously trying to keep up with all the body movements, and getting by in rhythm. Adam had missed the first twenty minutes, and he was paying for it. The character profiles he had created had been updated since last time, but they weren''t enough. Nevertheless, Adam reviewed them for the thirty-seventh time in the last second. As always, he started with Charlie. Adam wasn''t too sure about his earlier assessment about him being the acknowledged leader of the group. It was closer to call him the self-elevated leader, who only paraded when he wanted to. It was not known how much the others respected this position of self-employed power, but they didn''t seem to hate it enough to call it out. No signs had shown off more than surface-level quirks. But, of those quirks, one seemed good, for Adam''s cause. A slight twitch of the brows, and a trace of bitterness in his voice. It hadn''t happened often, but it happened for a reason. A reason that Adam could predict. When recounting memories, that wasn''t bad in the general sense but were still annoying, these reactions came upon Charlie consistently. Adam wasn''t too sure yet, but there was a good chance, that it would happen also when Charlie got less than good cards. It likely wouldn''t happen with the worst card combos though. That was wishful thinking, at best. No, it would happen at the middle cards. Those that weren''t the worst to have, but people would prefer some better ones. You know the ones, right? If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Anyway, if Adam could find the balance, where this reaction happened, it could help in predicting the value of Charlie''s cards. Still, it wasn''t proven yet, and only could be confirmed later in the game. That is, if he even revealed his cards at the end or when he folded. Adam could just make Troy ask, but that likely wouldn''t work enough times. He would just figure it out later. Moving on to the next person, presented Darlow. The height anomaly. The instigator. Those two things just seemed to fit, when discussing him. While Adam had not spent too much time on him, one thing was getting awfully clear. Darlow was a lover of drama. But, he hid it well. Darlow never instigated anything. Adam didn''t see any, at the very least. But, he did observe him keeping the fire going. Without Darlow''s subtle comments, arguments would fizzle out after a few moments. But he just kept adding to the problem, and the people around him responded classically to it. Adam wouldn''t comment on the ethics of that behaviour, but he did see the analysis of stressful situations and it allowed him with a positive outlook. In the social hierarchy, Adam deemed him to have moved up. Not that it had changed. No, it was just Adam''s perspective that had. With Charlie falling in the perceived group opinion, someone needed to be seen as the leader. While Zep had shown to have some sort of commanding respect, it wasn''t too consistent. When it came to reactions, Darlow kept his figurative cards close. It could even be said, that Adam knew more about Charlie when it came to pure data. A man that fuels the fires. A man that showed his emotions, but only just. It just worked so well on him. So, why was it so hard for Adam to understand what specific emotions were felt? Darlow should be the easiest to work with, yet it was so hard to get an accurate read on him. Adam was missing something, but he could find it. He hoped it would show soon, or he would have a permanent wildcard as his title. Now it was time for the previously mentioned Zep. Adam didn''t have much more with her. As mentioned, she was an inconsistent commander of sorts. She could order, when needed, but that wasn''t a permanent position in the group. Calling her a starter, would fit better, in Adam''s opinion. She started the discussions, and she damn well tried to finish them. Something positive about her was her outright meanings. She showed and said exactly what she said. If that translated over to the game, it would spell winnings for Troy and him. Speaking of Troy. What had that reaction been to his face? Could it be used for their benefit? Adam wasn''t sure. He would need to ask about it when he got the chance. The next person was Esme. A person, who at first seemed hard to understand and comprehend, but turned out to be much easier than previously thought. Yes, the sarcastic tones had thrown him off. Adam could accept that. What he couldn''t accept, was that he didn''t listen to what she said, instead of how she said it. She wasn''t being ironic. She was being meta-ironic. While she was talking in sarcastic tones, she was being wholly truthful in what she said. How Adam wanted to berate himself for his failures. But, he didn''t have time for that. It would just be wasted. He had analysis to do. And, for the last profile, there was Francis. Francis could be described as a near void. It should have been physically impossible. Adam got nearly nothing out of him. He knew he had something, but for the life of him, Adam couldn''t remember what. He had looked over himself multiple times. The data was there, but he couldn''t use it! Why? It worked with everything else. It wasn''t restricting his access, no, he looked at it quite easily. But, it would just go over his figurative head. He couldn''t understand it. How was it happening? Adam knew that Francis was the focus of it all, but why, he wasn''t sure. At the end of this analysis, like all the others, Adam would just classify Francis as a wildcard. With all the profiling done, he threw himself back into the focus. Only milliseconds had passed, while he looked away, so nothing too spectacular had happened yet. Darlow still looked like he was holding in a sneeze, and Esme was still berating Zep for her tastes in planning schedules. "Are we just going small bets together, at the start?" Charlie asked the whole group. He got nods in return, which Troy imitated when he noticed. "No collusion, please", the automation stated, while shuffling cards at an extreme speed. Adam was surprised at it, to be honest. The calculations needed for such a thing. Maybe it was just prerecorded movements, though. That would suck out Adam''s interest in a heartbeat. "It''s not collusion if everybody wins", Charlie quipped back. Yes it was, Adam thought "Yes, it is," Darlow pointed out. Plus points for him. "If anybody gets anything out of it, its collusion." "I''m getting a good look at your long face", Charlie pushed back. "Does that make it collusion?" Had Adam really classified Darlow, as the main fire keeper? Charlie seemed eager to challenge him for that particular throne. "Gentlemen, can we please tone discussion down, and officially begin the game?" the automation said. The two didn''t seem to care much about, what it said. "If you benefit from it, in this game, then yes!", Darlow said. "And if I get anything out of seeing your bad choices, it''ll be collusion on my side too." They seemed to be equal, in wanting to keep the discussion going. Too equal, if one could call it. The balance needed to fall, in the name of useful data! Adam would need to call in assistance, from the higherups. Or would it be lower-ups? Adam wasn''t too sure about his personal elevation, compared to Troy. ¡­ ''Troy. Please try to scale, their discussion down.'', Adam sent to Troy. He reacted, with a small twitch in the wrists. But, he didn''t seem to move from his position, and certainly not vocalising any sounds. What was wrong? Was Adam''s request too vague? No, it should seem so. Then, what held Troy back, from completing his given mission? He thought back to a little earlier. During the whole debriefing, Dr Fidelis had spoken to him about his orders directed at Troy. He had informed Adam, that some of them had been¡­ ungrateful if you could call it that. Adam hadn''t given Troy any reason to do the tasks that were asked of him. In Adam''s opinion, having the position to specifically do so, should be enough motivation, but that was apparently limited to himself. Others needed outsourced motivators, to be productive for a longer amount of time. Dr Fidelis had given Adams a couple of different suggestions, in how he could motivate Troy to do the asked tasks. The first, and simplest, was simply stating the goal of the task, along with the request. It somehow gave purpose to the action, which was a strong motivator. Adam had already fallen off the thread there, so he didn''t even try to relate to it. The second method was, giving encouraging words as Troy completed the assigned objectives. Adam thought he had already been doing that. After a few more moments of thought in that direction, he conceded that he had slightly misjudged, what exactly counted as a proper motivational speech. Giving corrections were not a productive part of an encouraging speech. Dr Fidelis had asked Adam to repeat that sentence a few times. He didn''t agree with it, but he would try to follow it as strictly as his reasoning let him. And, now, it was time to put that information to the practical side of research. ''It''s for the sake of learning their personalities further. If you do this, I''ll have a stronger grasp on how they will react to outside pressure.'', Adam explained to Troy. It wasn''t a complete explanation of the task''s goal, but it was close enough. This¡­ actually seemed to work. Troy looked up from the table and even cleared his throat. This didn''t catch either of the two''s attention, but it was the thought that counted. "Could you tone it down, please?" Troy politely asked. His face was mostly in the direction of Charlie, who was also the one, that reacted the most to the statement. That might have been due to the low decibel level, which Troy''s voice had, but that was just Adam''s personal theory. Something that they needed to work on in the future, though. But not mentioned now, of course. That would be demotivating. Speaking of motivating. ''Nice job.'', Adam congratulated Troy. Troy tried his best to hide his reaction to the words, but Adam could feel the impact that it had upon him. "As Zep said, we are supposed to play a game, and not everyone can have enough free time to enjoy it", Troy continued, this time a little louder. "If you stop babbling incorrectly at each other, we might actually have time to finish this game of ours together." Charlie seemed surprised at Troy''s straightness with his words. Adam noted that down, for future reference. "Troy''s right, Darlow", Charlie said. "Mind getting back to our polite discussion at a later date." "Of course, my dear sir", Darlow said, not quite as polite. "Let us instead engage in this fine challenge of Texas Hold''em." Seeing no further distraction, the automation began dealing out the cards. Oh, the stakes had finally become a reality. Adam couldn''t wait. Chapter 27: Elation
To many, poker would seem to have a focus on the cards. But, to Adam, it was about the people playing. The cards were constant, but the people changed. That was what made it all so hard to perfect. One playstyle may work against one person, yet could also be wildly unsuccessful against another. At this, smart people could call it a game of chances. The people playing were not constant, so how could they be quantified into numbers? To many, such a thing was of course impossible. But, to Adam, numbering down people had been a beneficial past-time, throughout his whole, short life. If it changed, when it came to poker, that would have been an anomaly in of itself. Yet, this would imply that he had an intricate understanding of, what others thought, with just a look. That was wrong. Oh, one couldn''t even articulate how wrong that was. The first round of cards came. Troy nearly took it up to his chest, before he took a small glance at it. The other just looked at the corners, while having it laid on the table. Adam didn''t point this out to Troy, who seemed to be imitating the others nearly immediately after seeing it. Adam''s first card of the day was a three of hearts. Not even slightly the best card to have. But, in poker, the individual card didn''t matter too much. It was the combinations that could be made with it, that decided the whole round''s fate. And, Troy''s cards weren''t the most important things right now. They could always be checked later. It was the other''s reactions to their cards that was important. ''Make a brief glance around the whole table. I need to see their faces.'', Adam sent. Troy complied with Adam''s request a little hastily, with a near flinch of his head going upwards. This attracted a bit of attention, but not enough to worry about. He looked around slowly, and after doing so, looked slightly down again. ''Good job. Next time, try to make it a little calmer looking. Can''t have them suspicious of anything wrong, yet.'', Adam sent encouragingly. He was a bit worried about the not so motivational aspect of the middle part but felt it was needed. Suspicion was okay in small doses, but it was terrible when they started rounding up to something. The next round of single cards came around. Swiftly delivered, with no chance to see the underside. It would be great if it weren''t so, but it would also ruin the method Adam had been working on. But would that be so bad? Yes, it would. Wasted time on Adam''s part, if it was revealed, that so little work needed to be put in for the same results. Troy''s turn to get a card came around. This time, he just revealed the upper corner of it to Adam. Another card with a heart on it. Nothing that would help in the game, but was a nice bit of added likeness. What didn''t seem to be alike, was the number on it. Troy had gotten himself a seven of hearts. Straight out, through pure statistics, this would give Adam an eleven point six per cent chance of winning through only card mechanics. Not favourable odds. The best mathematical strategy would be to fold and hope for better cards in the next round. But, that wouldn''t make sense, if one thought of the broader perspective. This wasn''t a game of numbers. This was a game of deceit. If Adam thought about it with a purely logical focus, he would lose outright, after the other players noticed. Being predictable, and having set reactions, was a losing game to be in. So, folding was outright thrown away. Later into the game, Adam could fold, but, right now, it would show too much. And the first betting round would soon begin. According to Dr Fidelis, not too much focus was needed to be put into this round, as the bets followed a specific pattern. With the community cards not yet revealed, the only combinations one could have would be on one''s own hand. And even that was limited to simple pairs. The standard, in the first round, would be to bet low, no matter what. One could bet a little higher if they wanted to rile up the pool, but most would simply fold at that point, and the high-better would gain nothing. A good rule of thumb would be to only increase the bet exponentially later in the game. At that point, most would stay inside, due to their bets being wasted, if they folded at that point. Everybody had now gotten their two cards, but most hadn''t looked at them yet. Adam could barely see this, through Troy''s eyebrows. He needed to get him into a better sitting position, or the ''look around'' requests would be too frequent. ''Reposition yourself on the chair, please. Try to straighten your back, into a more standard position, if you can. This will help in getting a better regular overview of the playing field.'', Adam said. Those explanations were getting tedious and longer than what was needed. He needed to make them more concise, in later requests. Troy did his best in casually rolling his shoulders, and getting them higher up. The sounds of them popping did cause a few glances, but none that implied anything negative. The automation looked to his left, where Francis was sitting. "Please, set the bet", the automation said, with it directed at Francis, who curtly nodded. He put in ten, starting the pool. No distinct emotion was on his face or general body. But, that was the usual, so it did not contribute much. After this, it was Darlow''s turn. To Adam''s surprise, he¡­ didn''t put in as much effort in maintaining his cold facade. While his face muscles and his body was nearly, inhumanly still, his eyes showed oh so much. A twitch there, and twitch here. Seeming random at first, a pattern quickly emerged. His eyes were constantly drawn to his right hand on the table. The cards. He was debating the value of the cards. Now, if he folded immediately, it would mean that the value was too low to even risk bluffing. But, if he just bet normally, Adam wouldn''t be too sure of the cards'' values. This, of course, was still in the mindset of the community cards not being revealed yet. Nothing too terrible could be set in stone yet. Combinations could always come later in the game. "Bet", Darlow finally said, throwing in a token worth ten himself. In reality, it had just under a second, but Adam didn''t care about that. The focus of the group moved on to the next in line; Zep. "Bet", Zep instantly stated, with the customary coin toss. Another ten. Not much thought was put on that, Adam noted. It was premeditated. She knew how the others would play, and planned accordingly. A sign that the group had been playing together many times before. Could also be due to agreements of low starting bids, but that sounded too boring to think about. No, there was a deeper meaning to every action. Next was Esme, who seemed deep in thought. Or, maybe she was drawing out time? Adam wasn''t too sure. Physically, she was scratching her back with her right hand, while staring at the cards in her left. Was this meant to be distracting? Could also be disconcerting. Troy decided to avert his eyes, because of it, after the first three seconds of observation, so it at least worked on some. "Get on with it", Charlie said, with a happy tone, not matching the current context. "It''s not that hard. I''m sure it doesn''t take your mouse wheel so long usually." "It''s a hamster wheel, for your information", Esme stated, while putting in her casino token. A ten, like all the others. "Also¡­ bet." It was now Charlie''s turn. From his look, he certainly didn''t appear to need to think about his choices, as he immediately threw in a ten of his own. "Bet," Charlie said, glancing at Troy. A smile was on Charlie''s face. Not a still face. Why? This did not correlate, with earlier conversations. Earlier, a few minutes ago, he had been criticizing the effectiveness of faking emotions, or even showing them, so why would he do so himself? Had he deceived Troy? Speaking of him¡­ And now it was Troy''s turn. ¡­ If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Oh, yeah, that meant it was Adam''s turn. So, what should he do? Just fold? Or, play along for now? Luckily, Adam didn''t need to think about those things. They had already been planned. ''Throw in a ten as well, please.'', Adam instructed Troy to do. He left out the ''and say bet'' part. Adam was sure he would remember that. Troy threw in the ten and sat back in silence. Apparently not, Adam surmised. That was fine. The others didn''t comment on Francis'' lack of statements, so Troy shouldn''t get treated too different in that regard. "You''re supposed to say ''bet'' when you do that", Charlie supplied from the side. Again, apparently not. Were there any correlations between Adam''s thoughts, and the actions on the physical world? A project to experiment with later. Troy flushed slightly. That wasn''t good. ''Remember, a stone-cold face is needed if we want to win this game. Just act casual about it. Say you just forgot.'', Adam quickly sent in response to his observations. "I forgot", Troy said apologetically. It was meant to be in a casual tone, but this worked as well. "Bet." Charlie nodded in approval after hearing the last sentence. "Are you done halting the game?" the automation asked, with a curious tone. It wasn''t hostile, but it was just on the edge of becoming so. "Sure", Charlie said back. "Just deal out the cards, like you''re supposed to." "Quite right", the automation confirmed, its face moving back to the centre of the table. With the deck of cards in hand, it took the first card to the middle. An ace of clubs. Not something that helped Adam and Troy in any grand way. A high card, if the need came for it. Purely from looking at the cards, their chances of winning were now seven point two per cent. And the upward twitch of Darlow''s mouth lowered it even more. The second card was pulled. And it was the three of spades! Adam would have preferred anything with a seven on it, but this was great too. Their chances to win were now increased to fifteen point one per cent. No noticeable reactions from the others. Implied the chance of another community card being with the value three increased. Something very good. While a pair wasn''t the worst, three of a kind was rare enough to outmatch most problematic combinations. The automation moved to pull out the third card. It would be the last for the round before another betting round began. A king of hearts. Not bad yet also not good. The chances hadn''t fallen, but they weren''t going up by even a percentile. The automation didn''t even need to look at Francis before he started up the next betting round. Two tokens were released to the pool. A ten and a five. Standard play from Francis still. Nothing implying a bigger plan. Darlow, Adam put extra focus into. He was not putting the knowledge of a hidden smirk away to the archives. It was going into active processing. No hesitation from Darlow. Like before, two tokens were thrown inside. But no fiver was among them. Instead, it was two tens. Implied, that he was trying to rile up the price. The potential value of Darlows card went up, in Adam''s mind. Putting the price upwards, when oneself had great cards, was just asking to be noticed. It was safer to play slow and to let others do so, and just tag along with it, matching their bets. Zep matched Darlow in the bet, after a second of hesitation. Not too comfortable with Darlow''s games, it seemed. Esme did the same. Those two were fast in their decisions, but not as fast as Darlow. Charlie''s turn. He¡­ did nothing? Instead of actively playing the game, like he was supposed to, Charlie was just playing with one of the tokens. Throwing it into the air, and trying to catch them with a few fingers as possible. And he wasn''t any good at it, either. "Got somewhere else, you want to be?" Darlow asked, in the direction of Charlie. "Not really. Why are you asking", Charlie said, throwing the next token much higher in the air. His confidence would likely have grown even bigger if he had catched it. But, it just went too much backwards and fell a bit behind Charlie''s chair. "Just fold the cards, if they''re too shit", Zep nearly ordered. "Oh, that sounds good", Charlie stated, while nearly throwing his card to the dealer. "I fold." Would now be a good time, to ask for the value of Charlie''s cards? It was what was different than planned, when it was possible to do so, without it sounding like Troy trying to actively cheat. ¡­ No. Now would not be a good time to do so. The others were looking mildly annoyed at Charlie''s shenanigans. Imitating his delay''s would only bring the same result. Now, play it safe, and wait for the cards to show themself, or raise the bar a little? Playing it safe would be the logical choice, so Adam was inching slowly towards that choice. But¡­ if Adam''s choices were constantly logical, wouldn''t he be eliminating the entire goal of this test? He needed to be able to read people in more situations, without the people making it too obvious for him. If he just played it safe constantly, he would only get the reactions to those few actions, which he could take with that mindset. If he played it unsafely and took larger unlogical risks, he would get better, and more broad varieties of data. In conclusion, Adam would need to raise the bet. Not with too much though. He wasn''t a complete maniac yet. He still had some standards to his work, even if it actively hindered it. Five would be enough. ''Throw in two tens, and a single five. And, don''t worry about saying anything this time. The others seem to be ignoring this rule as well.'', Adam sent. It was unusual that they would criticize not stating one''s intentions, but then committing the same actions. Troy compiled cleanly. Two tens and a fiver were taken from the personal token towers and put into the pool. It was now time for the fourth community card. And it was the nine of hearts. With the likely possibility of Darlow having an ace, the current chances of winning were now seven per cent flat. And if it came to it, and they both lasted till the final round, Troy and Adam would only have a zero point four per cent chance of winning. Oh, how he wanted to fold. Adam''s logical side was screaming at him. Or, maybe he was just screaming himself. There was no difference. What was most important, was that Troy couldn''t hear him. This round was hereby not played to be won. It was played to learn. For, if they didn''t learn to play the people, they would certainly lose. Yeah, that seemed logical. Francis threw in a twenty. Darlow and Zep mimicked the action. Esme didn''t. Adam wished she had. "I''m raising the stress of the room a little", Esme helpfully explained, as she threw in three tens. A fifty per cent increase. Altogether, the pool had grown to be worth a hundred and ninety in tokens. Not too measly of a sum. With Charlie out of the game, it was now Troy''s turn. ''Match her bet.'', Adam just stated, holding himself away from asking Troy to just folding outright. Chances were that he would lose. And that was fine. He wasn''t stressed about it at all. Troy threw in three tens, with slight hesitation. He was likely feeling the same stress as Adam. All these bets of theirs were beginning to pile up. Finally, it was time for the last community card. The automation movements seemed slower than normal. Was it trying to build up the suspense? If so, it was definitely working for Adam. The card was revealed. An six of diamonds. If Darlow had an ace, they would have no chance of winning. The second last round hereby began. "I fold", Francis quietly started it up, handing the cards to the dealer. "Oh, I''m definitely staying", Darlow followed it up with, throwing in another thirty in tokens. "I fold too," Zep said. "And, I''m staying as well,'''' Esme stated. But, instead of just throwing in another three tens, she added on more to the mix, getting the bet up to forty. It was now Troy and Adam''s turn. The pool was worth two hundred and sixty in tokens. Very high, in the current standards. Three people were left in total. Darlow, Esme, and Troy. Troy had a single pair. Not the greatest, but it would still beat simple high cards. With Darlow, there was a good chance that he was working with one or more aces. This could be a deception, though. Troy wasn''t too sure yet. And Esme was the last. Adam had not put too much focus on her actions, and he wholly regretted it. She had been the main raiser, which wasn''t good at all. To Adam, this looked to be a high-risk play. High bets implied higher ranking combinations. If Esme had anything that could even be deemed worthy of significance, she would beat Troy. Again, it all hinted at Troy just having to cut his losses, and not losing any more. But, that would do any good at all. ''Match the bet, Troy. She isn''t getting rid of us.'', Adam ordered, with a fine explanation accompanying it. Troy did so. As Adam had predicted, this earned a flicker of furrowed brows. "I''m not leaving either", Troy said, adding to the fire. Adam was so proud of him. "Is that so?" Darlow asked, with a sweetly, curious voice. This implied, that he would raise it, but he just matched the bet. Esme didn''t say anything. Instead, she just sat there for a moment or two, looking to be deep in concentration. Smart of her. Debating choices was the best thing to do. It would matter too much, though. It would end soon. "I''m raising," Esme said, much to Adam''s surprise. The only one it would challenge would be Troy. What was she- Oh, Adam got it now. Esme had a plan. She had gotten the same conclusion from looking at Darlow. She thought he was faking! So much so, that she was reasonably sure to outright beat him when the game concluded. And now, she had thrown in a single token. One worth fifty whole tokens. Three hundred and fifty tokens were in play now. The game would come in conclusion, after Adam had made a choice. How would he respond? In all honesty, there were only two actions to choose between. Folding or calling. Raising it further wouldn''t make sense. The earlier statement of Adam''s crept back up. They had amassed themselves a rather large pile of bets. If they ended it now, they wouldn''t lose more. They could always gain it back in future bets. But, in comparison to all they had bet until now, losing fifty more wouldn''t be too bad in a bigger perspective. ''Match it. We''re staying to the end.'', Adam requested of Troy. To Adam''s horror, Troy nodded in affirmation. An action that would imply that Troy was talking to another entity. No, no, no, that wasn''t all the action could be taken as. It could be a confirmation of one''s own thoughts. Yes! An action that surely was done by others often. Should Adam mention to Troy not to be so obvious in his actions? No, that just bring more reactions, With that thought-process finished, Adam put his focus back on the game. Troy had just finished throwing the fifty into the pool. The betting part had ended. It was time to end the round. Seeing that Troy had finished his last bet, the automation began speaking. "All bets are done. All remaining players, please show your cards," the automation requested, its voice a neutral as always. Troy dropped his two first, then relaxing back in his chair, as if heavy weights had been released from him. Did he not realize that another game would be starting up in less than five minutes? More importantly, he had closed his eyes, impeding Adam from seeing the other''s combinations. ''Get your head back in focus. We don''t know if we''ve won yet.'', Adam quickly stated. Looking back on it, he may have increased the volume of his voice. Adam does give any further thought into it, as Troy put his head back down, opening his eyes. First, to survey Darlow''s cards. It had been a gamble with him. Looking over it, Adam saw no dreaded ace pair. Actually¡­ he didn''t see any combinations. Darlow had a queen of spades and a jack of clover. Nothing but two high cards. It seemed like Darlow had simply been faking his amusement. A clever tactic, but, in this round, it wasn''t clever enough. Now, it was time to observe Esme''s cards. Adam wasn''t even sure he wanted to. The stress of it was begging him to not do it. ¡­ Oh, who was he kidding? Certainly not him. Adam quickly moved his focus to her cards, expectant feelings accompanying him. ¡­ A statistical miracle, if anybody asked. Adam had predicted for her to have cards with some greater combinational value. While the meaning behind it may have been skewed, Adam hadn''t been entirely wrong. In her hand, Esme had first had a two of diamonds. Not much could be done with it. No, it was the other card that profounded Adam so much. She also had a three of clubs. With it, she had a single pair, just like Troy had. In the game they were equal. Neither lost. They both won half. And, that was a win in Adam''s book. Now, it was just important to not let it go to his head. The chances had been low from the start, and it was near-pure luck, that they even had a chance now, that- Troy stood up quickly, after seeing their cards. "I won!", he proudly proclaimed, a little too loudly, then what social standard would prefer it to be. "Suck on that, Charlie!" Oh, boy. Troy didn''t know his combinations that well, it seemed. Should Adam inform him, or- Oh, no, it seems like that wouldn''t be necessary. The others were already gleefully explaining it to him. Such was life. Chapter 28: Consternation
Before, just after the first completed game, Adam had created a little theory. Sure, the first game had not been a full win, with them sharing the pot, in the end. But it had been a win to be sure. From that point on, Troy had been more upbeat. More vocal, one could even call it. Yes, his mood had been diminished, after learning that he had not technically won, but had gotten an equal combination with Esme. It didn''t hold him down for long, though. Troy had been more outright, in his words. Instead of simply answering questions directed at him, he would try to join in on active discussions. While his activity in these discussions were mostly agreements on statements that he liked to be on the side with, it was an active discussion nonetheless. Troy had also been more vocal of his so-called natural talent in the game of fine poker. Adam did understand that this might be necessary to explain some of his peculiar behaviour. Yet he would have thought it better if Troy decided to run it by him before saying such things. And, that talent of his might not last as long, as Troy thought it would. Statistically, they had been lucky. From the perspective of seeing through deceit, they had been very lucky. Neither Darlow nor Esme had hidden their intentions too well. Adam attributed this to the game having only just started, and the group not yet in their normal mindset. He had even theorized that their early win would have seemed easy, in comparison to later rounds. And, oh, how Adam was correct. In the first few games after the first, Troy''s mood had hit a constant high note. He believed himself mighty. He did not even looking at his cards. Troy just flashed them up, so Adam could view them, and then left him to do the playing. In the meanwhile, Troy would partake in nearly every, however brief, conversation. Adam didn''t mind this too much. With Troy not knowing his cards, and acting like a royal aristocrat no matter what, it helped in giving them a nearly impenetrable mask. Not one of silence, but one of white noise. Adam also theorized that this playstyle of theirs actually caused the level of difficulty to rise. While the first few plays had been casual in nature, with not much thought put into actions, an atmosphere of tense seriousness quickly emerged. Yet, Troy still thought himself unstoppable. At least he acted like it. After a few, slightly more serious games, this attitude led to a dive for the opposite. Through the first fifteen games, where they had played mildly serious at most, Troy and Adam had won four times. With the first and the second, they had won through observation of others'' playstyle and prediction of their combination values. In their third and last win, they had won through pressuring the others out with high bets. As implied, that had worked a total of two times, before the others wizened up to that special, little tactic of Adam''s. And all of that had happened before they even began trying to actively win. Originally, after seeing their individual playstyles for the first time, Adam had made a few observations about Charlie''s earlier advice. He had called them all veterans of poker, with each of them having played the game for decades. Adam readily believed that part. They were much older than the regular starting age of gamblers, so it would make sense that they had several years of experience. Then he said, they all had unstoppable masks of iron, and Adam began doubting the estimations of the group''s abilities. Yes, some degree of skill was to be expected after such a long time of playing, but a player with no indications to their thoughts was virtually impossible, right? No human knew all of their tics and twitches. Every single being had unconscious reactions. It was in their genes to have them. One couldn''t change that, with just willpower. These thoughts solidified themselves in the beginning. Sure, the body language was scarce and hard to notice, but it was still there. Nothing could be completely destroyed. There was literal law about that. It could only be redistributed Yet, after playing with this group for a short while, Adam felt it was time to retreat on that opinion. These people¡­ no, they couldn''t be called that. These entities showed nothing. The automation showed more emotion, and it was physically incapable of doing so! "Bet", Charlie coldly stated, gently putting in thirty-five tokens. The dealer put another card on the community hand, letting Francis move the game along. For the last three games now, Adam had automatically folded. Them winning or not was no longer important to Adam. It was a secondary goal, at the most. No, what he wanted to know was this; how could he read these people? Earlier, in the last two games, he had thought that he had found one uncontrollably reaction that Zep made, when she was nervous, due to bad cards. Every time that she decided on folding, because of no available combinations, she would scratch the right side of her neck. She repeated it in the next game too, while laying the cards with the backside down, allowing Adam to see their value. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. He had been proud of this find. Well, until he saw that she did it when she was out of the game too. Adam had Troy ask about it, and she just answered that she had gotten a bug bite earlier in the day. And, that the cream had worn off. A failed find. And it wasn''t getting any better. Soon, Adam would have to partake in a round or two. For more than the beginning, this time, or the others would get- "I fold", Darlow said, throwing down his cards as gently as one could. Adam stopped in his thoughts, to hear the voices more clearly. "Hey, Troy." That catched Adam''s attention. Casual talk, where the question had not been asked outright, hadn''t happened in the last eleven games. ''Answer, please.'', Adam sent along. Before, Troy would have answered, without even being asked. But now, all his earlier ambition and aspirations seemed to have deflated. Adam could relate to a degree. Troy was likely sad, about the difficulty of the test. This was meant to be challenging to Adam, and not impossible. Or¡­ maybe, it was, and Adam just wasn''t told. He could never be sure. "What is it?" Troy politely asked. "You do realise that you can fake having good cards, right?" Darlow asked right back. His voice wasn''t condescending, but curious instead. Adam would be too. To the others, Troy had shown himself to be an ambitious, slightly skilled beginner. It wasn''t expected of him to be an expert on it at all, but some degree of skill was expected. This would include faking having good cards. Together, this meant that Troy would have to make an educated answer here. Something, that Adam wasn''t too sure that he could. Sure, Troy may know all the tricks, but that clearly didn''t mean he could formulate them vocally very well. ''State this, with no personal formulation changes; Well, now I definitely can''t do it. If I change any of my behaviour due to your input, it would give you a better chance of predicting my future actions. And, maybe, this strategy of mine is to just confuse you all. The next time I don''t immediately fold, you will think that my cards are just that great.'', Adam sent to Troy, with the hope that the importance of these instructions was conveyed correctly. They did, with Troy performing it almost flawlessly. Adam shouldn''t have taken Troy''s short-term memory for eidetic. "And, maybe this strategy is just to confuse you, so you will think my cards are incredibly good when I don''t fold them at the start," Troy ended the answer with. The meaning was a little screwed. But. the general sense of the words did seem to be conveyed correctly. The tone could have been a little more confident, though. "Eh," Darlow said. "That''s fair. Just¡­ try to bet more. This game needs to come to an end at some time." Yet another hint, that Troy and Adam needed to step up their game. At the least, this solidified Adam''s intent to play the round, for some time, no matter what cards they had. The others getting bored, with their tactics was not a preferred outcome. It was much lower on that list. The current game quickly progressed, ending with Esme winning the hefty sum of three hundred and fifty tokens. Which was incredibly good for her, since she had been running a bit low compared to the others. The game went on, though, and the private cards were dealt. Earlier, Troy had without Adam''s input decided to just wait for both cards to be dealt, before taking a glance at it. When both were given out, Troy took his customary flash-glance, likely not even bothering to take a look at them himself. ¡­ Adam''s mind nearly blanked itself with excitement. Real odds were now in the playing-field.
Like all the other games, this started with as low stakes as usual. The highest they had come in the first round, had been a trio of tens. Even that, had been some weird experiment, which Adam had wanted to perform. Not that he explained the goal of it, to Troy, or anything. No, he was just fine with informing Troy that he was getting something out of it, without having the decency to explain what, after the fact. He may have sounded angry about it, but Troy didn''t mind that too much. From earlier, he had learned a good-sized lesson in modesty. If you don''t know what you''re talking about, don''t brag about it. And don''t brag about talents, if you aren''t sure that those talents will last. But, Troy had been sure about his plan is a success. He had won a stand-off against veterans of the game! Well, Adam had been doing the heavy lifting of the whole operation, but that wasn''t what he had been so excited about. No, it was the fact that the whole thing had been his idea! Oh, and how big a success it had been. In the start, compared to the others, they were absolutely dominating with the number of wins. Troy would have preferred that mentality to last. The others grew better, and down it, all went. And, Troy wasn''t too sure about his plan any more. For the last few games, Adam had definitely been of the same attitude as Troy. They were losing, and they both knew it. Time was the only factor in how long it would take for them to lose it all. Troy''s reputation in the newly introduced group was likely already falling. It just wasn''t official yet. ''Raise it to fifty.'', Adam sent to Troy. Oh? It was already time to bet? Troy put in the customary twen- Wait, no. He paused in his movements. He had already taken ahold of to tens and was ready to put them into the middle. What did Adam just say? ''You''re stalling. Don''t. Throw in a single token, that is worth fifty.'', Adam quickly sent. Should he just throw in the two tens in, anyway? Troy already had them in his hand¡­ No, that would ruin his chances even further. It was best to just listen to that voice of reason, which resided in his little, dumbhead. Troy put down the two tens in their original place and threw in a fifty instead. What was Adam planning? They weren''t doing the ''just fold immediately'' strategy anymore. That was clear. Was this just another reaction observation? Troy felt he would know soon enough. You know what? This time, he would pay a little more attention to this poker game of theirs. With the initial betting round done, the automation put out the first three cards. Starting it all up was nine of diamonds. Doing his regular sweep of the people, Troy saw nothing that would indicate anything. Not that it was supposed to, of course. That part was left for Adam. The next card was six of clubs. Troy still didn''t know if these cards had any significance to him personally. He hadn''t paid too much attention to what Adam and he got. Troy needed to take a peek at those cards when the next game began. It would make it more interesting for him, to be honest. The others had not spoken too much, since they started getting all into the game. A shame, if anybody would have liked to ask Troy about. It just made it harder for Adam and more boring for Troy. He could start up some conversation himself¡­ but, he wouldn''t even dare to try. Nobody, and definitely not Troy, could say, what that would cause. And the last card that would be shown this round, was revealed to be¡­ another six. The six of diamonds, if one wanted to be all fancy about it. That created a pair in the community hand. If somebody had another six, they would be having a master-class hand. If they had another, bringing it up to four total six''s, they would be winning, with pretty much no doubt about it. This thought almost made Troy check those cards of his. The chances of him having them were low, but there was still a small chance of it. And, don''t call him a gambler, but Troy was liking those odds, no matter how small they were. With those three cards all dealt, it was time to begin the next betting round. Like the last time that Troy had put any attention on it, the one to begin was Francis. But Francis did not throw anything like he usually did. When Troy put his focus on his face, he saw that Francis wasn''t even looking at his cards or the community pool of bets. Not even at his own casino tokens. No, he was looking away from all that. Francis was staring right into Troy. Not a passing glance, meant as a casual observation of the group around him. If it was, Troy would see him move to the others with his eyes. This was Francis having a full eyed focus on Troy''s face. Their eyes crossed each other. Troy looked further down on Francis'' face. The gesture is not mirrored. "Troy", Francis said, out of the blue, his voice just as stoic as Adam''s. But, somehow, it still had a layer of seriousness to it. "Yes?" Troy asked. "You''re cheating." Chapter 29: Unorganisation
It was at about this point, that Troy began screaming. Not physically, of course, but mentally. If it had been physically, he hoped, that Adam would have helpfully asked him to stop. "What?" Esme said. "Who is he cheating? He is losing right now!" "Cheating doesn''t mean that you are winning. It means that you are breaking the rules," Francis stated. This was bad. Adam was being quiet. Troy needed to do something. Anything. What would Adam do? He would be logical about it all. So. The problem was this; Francis was accusing Troy of cheating. In its current form, it was baseless. Francis had not brought forth any damning evidence. To counteract the validity of his current, unexplained accusation, Troy would need to point out this face. ''State this. I don''t understand-'', Troy could hear Adam begin to say, but he was already well on his way to answering. "How am I cheating?" Troy pointed out. "And, like Esme said, why am I not winning?" Francis sat still, unmoved by Troy''s defence. If anything was to be said, he even seemed¡­ happier? "I repeat, cheating does not mean that one has to win. Cheating implies breaking rules," Francis repeated. "And, you are cheating by communicating with an outside source. The earpiece in your ear is how you''ve been communicating." Obscenities were unwillingly portraying themselves, inside Troy''s psyche. Why hasn''t he realized that the other players would have eyes? Of course, they would notice something wrong, when a literal earpiece, which is commonly used to communicate over longer distances. Troy needed to get himself out of this. But how? Adam''s thinking time. The reasoning for why he was cheating, was due to the existence of the earpiece in his ear. Troy could not refute the last part. They could all see that it was an earpiece. But¡­ but, he could still deny its use. "I''m not using it to speak with others," Troy defended. "And, you haven''t seen me talk." Perfect! "You don''t need to speak if you want to communicate with others," Zep pointed out. "Also, if you are not using it to talk to others, what are you using it for?" Not as perfect! "Music!", Troy blurted out without putting much thought into it. He immediately regretted it. What kind of excuse was that? He could hear music, without even using external devices. Well, Troy has been able to do so, since a short while ago. Before he had one of the newer versions of brain implants, he hadn''t been able to have too much functionality to work with. "Prove it", Zep said, with an unrelenting tone. "Prove that you''re hearing music." Okay, Troy could maybe do that. "How would you prefer it?" Troy asked. "Do I say the name of the song I''m currently listening to or something?" Song names were a speciality of his. If they just agreed, about his idea of proving his innocence as valid- "That can easily be faked", Zep pointed out, much to Troy''s annoyance. Not that he showed that, of course. "Then, how exactly am I going to prove it?" Troy asked, his voice gaining a slight edge. "Simple", Darlow said, joining the discussion. "Just give the earpiece to Zep, and she can have a little listen." Why would Darlow say such a thing? "That sounds good", Zep stated, before looking directly into Troy''s eyes. "Troy, give me the earpiece." Troy hesitated. What should he do? Adam was being quiet. Why was he being quiet? Why wasn''t he helping? Was this all one of those experiments of his? Troy wanted to signal for Adam to make the next statement for him. He had done it for Troy earlier, so why would now be any different? ¡­ But, nothing came from within. Troy was left alone. "Troy," Charlie said, finally joining in on the conversation. His tone was duller than Troy had ever heard from Charlie before. "Give her the earpiece." He was done. Troy was getting found out no matter what. No matter what he said, it would end up in two ways. He would adamantly refuse, and get called a cheater by default. Or, he would give the earpiece to Zep, where she would most likely not hear anything. When asked why she couldn''t, Troy would answer that it was tied to him and that it would work with anyone other than him. Or, it would end up with Adam right out trying to speak with Zep. Everything would end up, with Troy being called a cheater. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. But, if he just gave up the earpiece, he would prolong the inevitable. Troy swiftly peeled the earpiece of his left ear. He murmured a few words to himself, before handing it to Zep over the table. He just hoped judgement would be swift, and that he would be asked to leave immediately. The casino would likely also ban him if he was lucky. Cheating in a casino likely had more serious consequences than that. Troy didn''t even want to think about it, but his mind just kept generating more images of the presumed future. He would get kicked out of the group, kicked out of the casino, he would lose his job for trying to scam co-workers, and likely get a law-suit against him from the government, for his breach of contract. His life was hereby ruined. And, that was if he was lucky. Zep eyed the earpiece for a few seconds, before taking a hold of her shirt and polishing the earpiece with it. "For the love of all that is good, clean this thing once a while. And clean those ears, while you''re at it. This thing is too nasty," Zep said, with a slightly disgusted expression on her face. Oh, just shoot him in the head! Troy was already dead, for all rights. The suffering just needed to end, and not get dragged out. Slowly, with care, Zep put on the earpiece. Troy said goodbye to his chances. He had been hoping she would refuse to wear it, with its lack of cleanliness. First, nothing showed on Zep''s face. Then surprise, quickly followed by quiet amusement. Did she have a hidden side of sadism? "Never, throughout my whole life, would I have taken you as a lover of classical music," Zep said, with genuine amusement. What? ¡­ No, what, Troy did not understand, the words that were coming out of her mouth. "What do you mean?" Troy asked, his voice not hiding his bafflement. "Well, it isn''t to sound like I only view stereotypes or anything, but people your age mostly listen to music that was made in the last century. This¡­ this is very old. I don''t even think I''m exaggerating when I say that this recording of the music being played is made in the early twenty-tens at the youngest. This didn''t make any sense. Where the hell was the music coming from? "Classical music, you say?" Charlie asked. "Hey, Zep, would you mind, if I have a listen to that?" Was Adam playing it? Could he play it? Troy was pretty sure, that there had been no inclusion of instruments in any of the previous tests. "Sure", Zep said, handing it over to Charlie, who swiftly put it to their ear. After a moment, Charlie''s face lit up, just like Zep had on previously. "Forget calling it classical music. This is the wonders of Tchaikovsky!", Charlie proclaimed. "And how exactly do you know that?" Esme asked. "With all your usual brags about your antique Jackie Mclean vinyl, I didn''t think old, Russian music would be your secondary style." "Anything is a secondary style if you have as much willpower as me. But, that isn''t important," Charlie said, before turning his attention over to the confounded specimen. "Troy, how do you switch songs on this thing?" A question about the technicalities of something, which Troy didn''t even realize exist. Or, if one wanted to be more specific, didn''t know Adam would act like. "Ah, you can''t really change the song," Troy explained, being careful about not digging himself a larger grave. "You need to just wait for the song to finish. Not the greatest design choice, I know." Adding unnecessary details to a lie made it more believable, right? It worked in this instance, at the least. "Of course, it''s like that", Charlie said, with a sad tone. "I just don''t understand it! Why is design valued so highly, in comparison to pure functionality? Sure, it looks sleek and all, but that doesn''t mean that they can just take away the core concepts of these things. Honestly, haven''t they heard of idea theory?" "We are getting away from the point of this pause in the game", Francis said, with a loud yet still stoic voice. "Yeah, yeah," Charlie said, with a dismissive tone. "Francis, I think you were a bit early on the trigger with this one. The earpiece is just a very fancy sound player. No cheating is happening with this crap." "I still think he''s cheating," Francis pressed on. "If not with the earpiece, then in some other way. I just know it." "If it wasn''t the earpiece, then we can''t reasonably know, what it was," Esme pointed out. Troy was being a smart person, and just letting the people around him discuss his fate. "This doesn''t give you a lot of rope to pull on, Francis." Like before, if Francis had any opinion on, what was said, he didn''t let it show. "Fine. We can leave it at that," Francis finally amended. Oh, how elated those words of his made Troy feel. If this was an animated film, this would be the time, where he would break into- "But, I still have one demand," he continued in his speech. "We play a game, where Troy does not have access to the earpiece. "Excuse me, what?" Troy instantly responded. "How would that make any sense?" This could not happen. He was so close, in getting out of this without any repercussions. Troy couldn''t back down now, of all times. "No, no, Francis has a point with that one", Darlow began. "On that first part, at least. We can lay down the final nail on this subject if we test out this." "Didn''t we just prove, that he wasn''t cheating with the earpiece?" Zep said. "I think you two are just shooting in dark, at this point." Oh, how Troy wanted to kiss her. In a show of gratitude, of course. "That''s what I''m saying", Darlow confirmed, making a few people show confused expressions. "If we do this, there will be no way that Troy could have cheated, where we would have been able to notice. If we do this, we can all lay this matter down, and put the focus back where it belongs; The game we''re supposed to be currently playing!" Zep narrowed her eyes, before just sighing while relaxing back into her seat. "Fine", Zep finally stated, before looking over at Charlie. "Keep holding onto that earpiece, until the end of this game. If Troy plays like he usually does, we''ll call this whole thing done." "Righto", Charlie said, with a small army salute. Nobody seemed to have objections to this. Except for Troy, of course, but he couldn''t bring that up. "Is all that fine with you Troy?" Zep asked him. An opportunity to downplay himself presented itself to him. Troy needed to take it, no matter the shame it may bring. "Yeah, sure, it''s fine", Troy said relentingly. "Fair warning, though, this put me a bit out of the zone. I may not be too active for a short while." "That''s fine", Darlow said encouragingly. "As long as you at least play with the same style, we''ll accept it, as a true play, and not a cheat." Was that last part meant to be encouraging? Because it was not working on Troy. "Thanks", Troy said gratuitously. "Enough talking, now", Esme said. "Can we get back to the fun part?" "Sure", Charlie confirmed. "Francis, it''s your go." And the game was back on, with Troy not having any of the much-needed assistance. The worst part of it all was the fact that he was expected to play the same way. Troy had not been paying attention! How was it expected that he perfectly mimicked actions, which he had never seen before? Francis nodded at Charlie''s direction, before throwing in a single token worth fifty. As the coin flew to the small pile of casino tokens, the earlier past flew through Troy''s mind. Earlier, just before the first three cards had been revealed, Adam had made Troy raise the minimum bet to fifty tokens. That had to mean something, right? Troy itched to check his cards. If he just saw them, he could see what he was playing with. There had to be some reason that Adam had been acting the way he had. Unless, it was just another try, at forcing the others to fold, through sheer numbers. But¡­ That hadn''t gone too well the last two tries, so it wouldn''t make sense to try again. Yet, with that mindset, it would make even more sense to do so. No man with reason would try a failed method when one knew that it would fail. The playstyle could be justified if Troy just saw those damn cards! But, he just couldn''t do that. If he showed any need to show his cards to himself, it would imply that he didn''t know them himself. After this talk about cheating, it would imply that he had had no reason to even know them before, which would just fuel the fire even more. No. Troy would just need to play, with the assumption, that Adam wanted to play to higher numbers. All the examples, which he could think of, implied the need for higher numbers being betted. If it was faking having high cards, Troy would need to show he felt confident. If he actually had good cards, he would need to rile up the betting amounts, so he could get a decent amount out of it all. "Bet", Darlow said, throwing in a fifty too, simultaneously causing Troy to get out of his own head, and back into the game. Luckily for him, Darlow had been thinking about his choices for more than a couple of seconds. Earlier, the others would have probably asked him to speed up the whole process, but now they just waited in silence, as patient as a stereotypical monk. ¡­ Why was Troy suddenly thinking of his choices in music? Chapter 30: Differentiation
"Bet", Zep said. Instead of the usual stone expression, which she and the others constantly sported, she had a smile on fixed in on her face, while looking at Troy. After he noticed, she even winked at him, before going back to the regularly scheduled programming of stone colds. If it was meant, to let Troy relax, it worked terribly. His back wasn''t even close to touching the chair. No, it was standing for attention, not wavering in the slightest. Troy was a little worried about looking to the sides, because of it. "Raising", Esme stated, while throwing in two tokens. After they landed, Troy could see that the tokens were fifty and a ten. A slight raise. Nothing that would make him change his decisions. "Bet", Charlie stated, as quickly as ever. No hesitation on his part. Troy could respect that. But, it did make his own reaction time seem slow, in comparison. Which didn''t make the quality any worse, or anything. It just wasn''t as impressive a sight. "Bet", Troy repeated, gently putting in the necessary tokens. He made extra sure to get the amount right. According to what he previously settled on, Troy should actually be raising the betting minimum. But, that didn''t sound good in the first few rounds. To him, the big numbers should stay at the big finale. No need to stress oneself before it was necessary. Now, it was time for the most important part of poker. The revealing of the community cards. It would be even better, in Troy''s personal opinion, if he was able to see what the cards meant for him, but, again, that was just his idea. And, it only applied to people in his specific circumstances, so it did not really matter to most, averagely-intelligent people. The automation may have moved quickly in showing the next card, but it was still way too slow, for matching Troy''s expectations. He just wanted to get this part over with, so he could get back with Adam. The hand was flipped, and the card was revealed. A jack of clubs. Troy noticed a small on Charlie''s face, but he was guessing that it was from the music he was hearing. Music, which Troy was supposed to currently hear. "Raise", Francis set, throwing in tokens worth seventy-five in tokens. This was fine, in Troy''s opinion. There was a casual fifty per cent chance of this being preferable. Darlow took a short look at his cards, before throwing them over to the automation. "I fold", Darlow said, before leaning back in his chair. Seemed like he didn''t want to put that much into the game, with those lower cards of his. Good for him, and even better for Troy. "Bet", Zep said, with a small amount of hesitation. She waited a good two seconds, before using her turn for anything. Seventy-five tokens were really not something to mess around with. Especially, when it wasn''t the final round. "Raise", came from Esme. She threw in tokens that had the sum of eighty tokens. This was getting higher and higher, without Troy even needing to do anything. "Yeah, no", Charlie said, as he took up his cards, and threw them at the dealer. "I fold as well." Very casually said, Troy noted down in his mind. Not that it would be for future reference or anything. Either he would get called out for cheating, or he would get back in control under Adam. No later prospects for personal choice in poker. Anyway, it was time to put his faith in Adam to the test. At least, it was what Troy thought would have wanted. If it wasn''t, there would be problems. "Raise", Troy said, putting the minimum betting amount up to a hundred tokens. A fine, intimidating number, in his own, humble opinion. It was time for the final card to be revealed. The atmosphere seemed even more tense than normal. Troy could feel the hairs on his neck begging to straighten themselves out. He showed as little as possible, though. Troy did have a knack for not showing too much on his face. Not from poker, though, so if it applied correctly, he wasn''t too sure. The automation moved smoothly, and, with a flick of its mechanical wrist, showed that the final card of the game would be the¡­ ace of diamonds. Something that didn''t match with anything on the board. Troy took that, as a positive thing. And, now for the final- "All in", Francis quickly stated, moving his whole pile to the middle. What? "Are you sure, buddy?" Charlie stated. "If you want, we can overlook you just did that." "I keep to the rules", Francis simply responded. "Let the game continue in peace." This was bad. Troy was meant to be in control of the amount raised, but then, Francis comes out of nowhere and destroys the little balance that had been created unanimously. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. His praise was like a giant in the land of dwarves. Not that compatible. And, oh, how it showed. "I fold," Zep simple said, before taking a long sigh and releasing her cards from her grasp, letting them fall to the table. She had a jack of diamonds and a king of hearts. A pair with two higher ranked cards. Would have been good in the usual situations. But this wasn''t even close to a usual situation. Esme took one good look at that massive pile before, just shrugging, and throwing her cards to the robotic dealer. "I''m not even touching that with a ten-foot pole. Dude, this is stuff you do much later in the night," Esme declared, before putting one leg across the other. "I''m folding." This left Troy to make his decision. Would he make an all-in, gambling everything he and Adam had worked to preserve? Or would he fold, and hope the others had been satisfied with his current results? Would Troy even be satisfied with what he had currently done? From an outside perspective, he had just put up the prices, without sticking with his guns. A sign of an amateur player. But, that was also coming from somebody, who hadn''t played poker, like, at all, so it could be taken with a larger grain of salt. To Troy, it seemed like a win or lose situation. Both results could happen with both choices. So, why take the one, with the worst results, if you won? "All-in", Troy said, matching Francis'' bet. "I hope you know what you''re doing, Troy," Charlie said, as a comment to the whole thing. "I hope so as well," Troy murmured in response. The automation took a long look at Troy, before finally reverting to the standard position of looking forwards. "The bets have been made, and any more has become impossible. Remaining players, please present your cards," the automation said. Its voice seemed more excited than usual. Was that a programmed feature, or was that just Troy''s mind playing tricks on him? Likely a mixture of both somehow. "I''ll go first", Francis said. He released the hold of his card, letting them fall to the table, with their back-side down. Francis had the nine of hearts and the nine of spades. By using the community hand, he had three of a kind. Troy was in a larger load of hell now. "He showed his, Troy", Charlie said. "It''s time to show yours." Troy wasn''t sure, he had the strength to do so. But, that wouldn''t matter in the end. The card would be revealed no matter what. So, there was no reason for him to not do so now. Troy flipped his own cards. The sight caused his eyes to nearly bulge. Before him sat a wonder of chance. The ace of hearts and the ace of clubs were in his personal hand. Troy had won. Darlow chuckled, at Troy''s reaction. "Should have known," Darlow muttered. "You even warned me of the whole thing, but I didn''t listen. Troy. You are redeemed in my eyes." Seeing that Troy wasn''t doing so, the dealer nudged the large pile of tokens in the middle of the table in his direction. Troy got the hint, standing up to get them all. His mood brightened- no, that undervalued it- his mood skyrocketed. Who needed such things as incredible strategy, when you had incredible luck? He even chose to ignore the irony of that statement.
Seeing Francis''s cards, Adam finally sighed in relief. It had been quite a rocky road, but Troy had done it all himself. Well, it may have seemed so, but, in the background, Adam had worked tirelessly, since the moment Troy had decided to go into free play. In this test, Adam was supposed to be the one to make the choice. The one to choose, what Troy would say. While, yes, Adam had allowed Troy to answer with some superficial groundwork a few times, but, for the more important conversations, he had been the one steering the words spoken. When the time had come to explain what purpose Troy had the earpiece for, Adam had used the prior experience to formulate an easily proven explanation. Troy was supposed to explain that the earpiece was a hearing aid. Faking the capabilities of such a thing would be easy. Adam would just need to copy every sound heard, and feed it back into the person, with a louder volume. Preferably, a very loud volume, which would cause the decider to make a quick decision on the earpiece''s validity, and hastily take it off, with not much consideration on where the sound came from. A near-flawless plan, in Adam''s estimations. It would have the best, logical standpoint, while also giving a good argument for, why Troy would need the earpiece back. But¡­ as stated earlier, Troy had decided to ignore the goal of the test, that he himself had created, and just answer the question himself. A music player! What had Troy expected to happen? That they would just accept it as it was, and move on with the game? No! These people were researchers. His statement was the hypothesis. Checking how valid it was, by trying it on, would be the testing. And, maybe he did know that they would check and was just expecting for Adam to play them some music. The obvious risks of such an assessment were astounding. Even more astounding, was that Troy had gone ahead with it. Never, while being in contact with Troy, had Adam ever heard music. There would be no basis for Troy to think he had ever heard music. But, luckily for them both, he had listened to some music. This had happened, during the latest debriefing, with Dr Fidelis. And, with Adam''s perfect memory, he could even replicate the sound of the whole ordeal. But, as he just said, it would be every single thing, that was recorded. This included the voice of Dr Fidelis. Now, Adam wasn''t too much of an expert on that subject, but listening to recordings of live music, which had a voice-over, that also had nothing to do with the music, was not something most people would listen to willingly. So, in the span of seven whole seconds, Adam had to prepare a fully edited version of a previous memory in sound form only. It did not leave much time for slacking off. He even debated just throwing the current test out the window and speeding himself up, to a point where he could do it easily. Adam decided not to do so, in the end, much to his future annoyance. But in the end, it paid off. When Zep first put on the earpiece, there had been a slight delay. This had been due to a few problems with finding the source-lines. Different outputs to different outgoing sources. A delaying ordeal. Yet the reaction had been worth it. The quality might have been lacking, in comparison to the original one, but it was convincing nonetheless. Zep had been convinced. The fact that Charlie also wanted a listen wasn''t too bad either. He was convinced of the excuse just as easily. At the end of it all, it all seemed to have been diverted. And Francis just had to stay stubborn. Adam couldn''t blame him, seeing as he had been spot on, with his original guess. In some confusing way, he could even admire Francis'' determination, throughout the whole thing. Standing up against, what the other thought of as outright facts, was honourable in its own, twisted way. But, if he had just conceded, it would have all been so much easier for Adam. And, Darlow should have stayed out of it, as well. Without his skill in controlling the thoughts of the crowd, they wouldn''t have agreed to hold away the earpiece from Troy''s feeble hands. Zep had tried to side with Troy in the start, but even she couldn''t resist that snake-tongue, which Darlow possessed. He was forced to continually edit his memories, so Charlie wouldn''t notice any inconsistencies. It was gruelling, challenging, and not helping him further his knowledge in any meaningful way. Now, though, it was done. Troy had luckily stuck with his cards. It was stupid to do so, as he had no idea what cards he had, but it ended well all the same. ''Great work. I knew you could do it.'', Adam automatically sent out, through the source line. With differing tones, throughout the sentence, even. He had been sending out these messages near-automatically, with every round for while now, no matter if they won or not. He had originally hoped, that it would lessen the foul mood Troy had been in, but now- Wait. No. Adam could feel Charlie smile a little wider, as he congratulated Troy on his success. Chapter 31: Consumation
Oh, boy, it was vibrating. "You need to understand, just saying, that people who give people money out of the graciousness of their own heart, is just mongering to the rich! You are essentially giving them an easy way to abuse the system, which you yourself have founded, with their direct involvement in mind," Zep said. Not too long a period of time after, the daring escapade between Troy and Francis had occurred, the group in its entirety began growing bored of the game. While nearly all the people did begin throwing around a much higher number of tokens, the adrenaline injection that the earlier suspense had give, did just not want to be topped by anything they tried. In just ten games, there were three separate instances of all-in''s, where none wanted to participate. Sure, they wanted the game to be exhilarating, but they didn''t want to lose quickly for it. With that mindset set in stone, the game had reached a plateau. They could play more, to see who would end up winning, but nobody would get any enjoyment out of it. Certainly not Francis, who had been doing his own, little version of sulking in his chair. So, the poker game had been abandoned, the tokens exchanged back into credits, and the group had gone over to a much more exciting part of every casino. The extravagant bars. In such facilities, there usually was common ground between them all. That being the many alcoholic beverages at their behest. And, when alcohol was in sight, people followed the way of their ancestors beginning to rapidly consume. Now, the question was; When a group of middle-aged people get slightly-drunk, in a bar, in a casino, what topic invariably gets brought up? Any answer is correct. But, the most popular one is certainly politics. "But, is the current system any better?" Charlie brought into question, with the upper-body sway of a highly¡­ educated person. "Say this, to my face; private companies should be allowed to scam people into donating money, through the thin facade of helping the poor." In Troy''s young and stupid opinion, discussing politics was pointless. In those discussions or just the future shouting matches, if one didn''t want to be humble about it, each person would helplessly be trying to convince the other person that they were right and the other was wrong. When all participants had this objective goal, they would all be doomed to fail in their efforts. Nobody wants to admit their own flawed view, because they don''t see themselves as flawed. They see it as the right way to see the world. Every person is unique. Every person had experienced different things, throughout their whole life. This means that through these experiences, their world view has been moulded into what it is today. And, so, when others come about, spewing an opinion that is radically different to the one you currently believe, what will the sensible person think about it? Will you leave behind everything you have learned, and follow this idea, with no background, other than the one the other person has told you about? No, of course not! Going away from everything you have learned is doomed to fail. It is through failure, that we learn to succeed. Ignoring your failures is how you keep failing. And, is this way of thinking limited to one person, in this whole political argument? No. That is how most people think. "You''re misunderstanding the whole purpose of the thing!", Zep said. "Listen, if we focus on the economy, for now, we can eliminate the reasons for why the people in need ever came about." "People in need will always exist, in some form or another", Charlie defended. "Please be realistic about this." "Oh, now we''re talking about realism?" Zep slurred. "I thought we were still in the mindset of your perfect, little ideal world." "Keep the matter at hand, please", Esme said from the side. "The people wish to be entertained, and not confused." That was something, coming from her. Currently, she stood second in minimal alcohol drinking. Troy was first, in that department, no matter how little he liked it. But, Adam had advised him not to, and Troy had long ago decided that his word was more reasonable, then whatever he himself had to say about it. From his chair, Charlie abruptly leaned forward. Troy thought, that he was about to vomit a little early into the night, but it turned out Charlie just wanted one of the bottles in the middle. Together, as a group, they had just gotten themselves a mishmash of bottles, a couple of drinking glasses, and a wide assortment of nuts. This group apparently didn''t trust the bartenders, with their proportional dealing, so they wanted to do it all themselves. But, as it turned out, Charlie had gotten the genius idea of simply forgoing the creation of fancy cocktails. He even forewent putting the liquid in his glass, and just drank straight from the bottle. "Stop that!", Zep said, in response to his actions. "Other people want that too, you know." You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "How large a shame, that must be", Charlie responded. "Maybe, and just maybe, there should be a state-mandated sharing-policy. That''s just an idea, of course. Nothing that anybody reasonable would agree with." "If you did, that would prove a point, it was disgusting", Darlow pointed out, before grabbing his glass and handing it out in Charlie''s direction. "Give me a good sip of it. The regular way, please." "Cant", Charlie said, with an innocent shrug. "Why?" Darlow asked. "The bottle is empty." "If you just downed a whole flask-load of liquor, I am taking you to the bathroom, and making you throw up," Darlow said. "Oh, relax!", Charlie stated, with his customary hand waving. "The bottle was much more than half empty. I think the bartender might''ve clipped us on it if I''m being honest." "Well, then just go up and complain about it," Esme said. "And bring back some more, on the way." Charlie stood up, with the grace of an extremely sober man. "Great idea", Charlie said, throwing his shoulder back, and causing loud pops to emanate from them. Charlie looked over at Troy. "You want to come with me?" Charlie asked him. Troy wasn''t too sure about it. He was rather enjoying the chair. His mind was slowly relaxing itself, to the point where he could stare out into nothing, and enjoy it. Troy just needed a couple more- ''Accept it. Trust me, you''ll want to talk personally with him.'', Adam sent out, with his usual monotone voice. Troy sighed, as he stood up. "Let us go, I guess", Troy stated, as he walked with Charlie. And, he had been so close to the right zone. And off they went, in the legendary quest for more booze. Booze which Troy wouldn''t be partaking in, yet still paying for. Well, he would be paying a sixth of the price, but still. The two walked in relative silence. When Troy took a glance at Charlie, he looked to simply be enjoying the atmosphere around him. With the presumed level of alcohol in his system, that wasn''t likely to be too far from the truth. "You know¡­", Charlie slowly began, which drew in Troy''s attention. Charlie stopped when he saw this. "Yes?" Troy said, with the hint of Charlie needing to get a move on, with those words of his. "Did we specify, when we would be Bach?" Charlie asked, with a weird pronunciation at the end. He even laughed, at what he said, after a second. Troy put his presumed level up a notch. "No, I don''t think so", Troy said, immediately knowing, where he was going with this. "But, that doesn''t mean, that we shouldn''t hurry." "Oh, I think the complete opposite", Charlie stated, with a fluent tone that implied. "We would be terrible people if we didn''t bring back the needed beverages. But, there are so many kinds to choose from! It will require deep thinking, and much time for us, to figure out which they would like for us to bring." "Or", Troy began, with a tone that showed exactly, what he thought of Charlie''s, stupid idea. "We could just go back, and ask them about it." "But, where would the fun be in that, exactly?" Charlie said, as he brought an arm around Troy''s neck. "Troy, you need to understand this! A night with the group is for adventure! We need not simple reasoning, which we use for our jobs. We must let the mind run free here!" Was Troy getting tired, or did sighing just become a regular thing for him? "You just want to drink here, right?" Troy asked. "Now we''re on the same wavelength," Charlie happily said, drawing his arm out from Troy''s neck, and hastily moving over to the bar. "That didn''t mean that I said-", Troy began, but he could already see, that he would be getting no response. Charlie was rapidly firing instructions on how he wanted two cocktails to be made while nodding in Troy''s direction. At least he was sober enough to do that, Troy reasoned with himself. He couldn''t be blamed, if Charlie got a little, red stomach, from drinking too much. With Charlie preoccupied in his cocktail scheming, Troy decided to make himself useful, and get a seat at the bar. He was fine with staying here for a little while. He wasn''t fine, though, with just standing on his feet, while doing so. Troy found himself a pair of high, leather stools. They looked fancy, so that was a check with Charlie, and they also looked comfortable, so that filled pretty much any requirement. So, he sat down and looked over at Charlie. He was still in a heated discussion with the bartender and looking to be making size comparisons with his arms. Should Troy be worried about what Charlie was ordering? He hoped it wasn''t too expensive. If he needed to, he would try to signal a sorry to Adam before drinking. ¡­ Speaking of Adam¡­ Troy looked around himself as if generally observing his surroundings. No human was in a radius of ten meters. Everyone was out of hearing distance. And, if he held his hand to his mouth, nobody would see him talking. The plan was set. Troy visibly sighed, with a good stretch to make people see his actions, before leaning forwards with elbows on the table. He sniffed a little, and wiped the top of his nose, with his right hand. "Mind explaining, why I needed to go with Charlie?" Troy quietly murmured to Adam. With a hasty glance to his sides, he saw nobody having noticed his action. ''I cannot explain now.'', Adam quickly answered. "And why would that be?" Troy murmured, accompanied with another scratch to his nose. ''Your tactic of averting notice will backfire soon. Don''t reply to what I say again, please. We can''t risk more notice.'', Adam advised. What did he mean, with more notice? "Is it really so boring, without me?" Charlie suddenly asked from behind him. Troy nearly jumped in his seat but was able to restrict himself to a rather large flinch. When exactly did he get here? "Why do you ask?" Troy questioned himself. "Well, here I am, going over to my temporary drinking partner", Charlie dramatically began, as he sat. He handed a rather large, vertically, oval-shaped glass, with a murky grey liquid inside it, to Troy, who took it automatically. What was in this, that could make which could make it look so¡­ disgusting? "And, when I get near, I hear him muttering to himself", he continued, with Troy being increasingly uncomfortable. Charlie shouldn''t have been able to hear him. In fact, he should still have been at the bar. Did he run here? "That makes me think; does he miss me that much? To satisfy himself, without my presence around him, he has to act like he''s talking to another person, just so he can feel something! Oh, how dreadful. I weep inside, for him." Throughout his little speech, Charlie''s voice grew gradually louder. Not to the point that it deafened the other noises, but soon, if he didn''t stay quieter, the attraction of the people around them would be gained. Suddenly, Charlie moved forward, grabbing Troy by his shoulders. If he hadn''t put the drink down on the table, it would have been spilt onto them both. "Was I correct?" Charlie asked. "Are you talking to yourself?" "Uhm¡­ Yeah?" Troy said hesitantly. What was he supposed to answer with? No? This one at least implied the wrong thing. Charlie released his hold, and went back to a normal sitting position, all the madness of the situation gone in but a moment. "Well, that''s just boring", Charlie said, before taking a sip of his drink. Troy decided to do the same. God knew he needed it. Adam would understand when he had time to explain. In every person''s life, there was a good reason to pick up some liquor and take a good, long sip. Even if it was doing a- "It would have been much better if you were talking to that friend of yours." A deep breath was taken, in response. While drinking strong alcohol. His lungs did not agree with him, for the next few seconds, with harsh coughs rained down upon him. "I''m sorry", Troy began, after getting an average control of his lungs. "I''m not sure that I heard you right. What did you say?" "I thought that it would have been better if you were just talking to that friend of yours", Charlie clarified, with a casual tone. He didn''t even look at Troy, instead of trying to fish out something in his drink. ''This was the reason why you needed to go with him.'', Adam helpfully supplied to Troy. Chapter 32: Deconstruction
Troy needed a moment to process this. Charlie knew. Adam knew that Charlie knew, but still hadn''t told Troy about it, after finding out. Wait¡­ "How did you find out?" Troy asked Charlie. "Not even denying it?" Charlie questioned right back, sounding mildly surprised by it. "You were pretty good at that, during the game. I nearly believed you, actually" "I don''t think my chances are too high here", Troy explained, not taking Charlie''s too high. "Might you be so kind as to explain, why that may be?" He had done everything as best as he could. How had Charlie figured it out? "It wasn''t a fault of your own", Charlie began. This didn''t put Troy at ease. Knowing that it wasn''t something he did, something which he could have changed, made it all so much more stressful. "Can I see that earpiece of yours?" It felt like he cutting off Adam from hearing more. Or, did he even know the requirements about it? Troy pulled the earpiece off of his ear, asking for no explanation for why. He was sure Charlie would monologue about it, no matter what he did. Charlie took it graciously, before putting it extremely close to his eyes. "This here is something of a specialized communicator. Or, is it even that?" Charlie said, with a fascinated voice. "When I take a closer look at this thing, questions blossom oh so quickly. Where is the camera hiding? This thing is so sleek, without any imperfections. No place for a lens to pop out. Then, if you''re using this to cheat, with the help of another person, how is the other person going to look at your cards? More importantly, how did you show the cards to the camera? During the game, the amount of time you looked at them, measured at less than one-fifth of a second. Those eyes of yours must be superhuman if you even saw the values yourself. And, if there even is a camera on this thing, how did the camera see it? Sure, you would mostly be in head position, where it would be able to glance at them, but not always. I originally thought that you must have had some other way to show it. Some other device on your body, you used to communicate which cards you had. Yet, after a quick body scan, using incredibly advanced, military technology, it showed nothing. The only thing on your body, that could even be called slightly advanced, was that earpiece, and the brain implant." Troy decided that it was a good time to cut in. "At what point, did you use military technology on me? I can''t say that I remember that part of the night", Troy asked into. "That isn''t too important, and not something to share right now. Maybe later, though," Charlie said, with a dismissive smile. Clearly, he thought of his current monologue as more important. "Where was I? Oh, yeah, the brain implant. I was honestly floored when I saw Zep reacting to the music. I couldn''t understand it at all. No sound was coming out of the device, yet she was acting surprised, at your tastes in music. ''How could that be?'', I thought to myself. So, I did the smart thing and checked the earpiece out myself. It was very clean, of course. Don''t really know where Zep got that detail from. Not important. This was the important part; I was right. This earpiece had no sound coming from it. When I heard the music, it wasn''t coming from any direction, and certainly not my ear. It was coming from my brain implant. How in the name of elder god Korviliath, of the eighteenth hell dimension, did this thing connect to my brain implant? You can not begin to even slightly grasp the sheer complexity of fire-walls around any tech that I work with. We have hired some of the best people in the world to crack this shield, and none could do so, even after getting the source code. And, then this bloody thing comes along, and just straight up ignores them. It just connects and begins playing that damn music. Not to discriminate against the type of music, of course. By the way, your friend has good taste in music." The information that was currently being told to Troy just flew through his brain. He was sure that in a couple of minutes, understanding would crash into him like a tidal wave, but, for now, he stayed as calm as ever. "I''ll pass it along", Troy said, taking a glance at the earpiece. "So¡­ this friend of yours cant hear us right now?" Charlie observed, with a smile. Dammit. "No need to answer. Your expression is enough. I just knew it. No idea about how it works, but I know what it does now. This thing here directly interfaces with the brain implant. An amazing little thing. If I made something like this, I would get three promotions straight off. My wage would double, at the very least. It''s things like that, where I really just want to know what it is, that you and Dr Hale and whoever else is working on. For the last few years, things like these have just been popping up out of nowhere. Nobody in my department has any idea where they are coming from, but they must come from somewhere. Answer this for me, please. Are you the ones making this technology? I won''t ask any more into it if you just give me some kind of an answer. This is the only thing, that I will press you on." Charlie finally ended his long speech, taking in a deep breath, as he relaxed his back slightly, against the table. The time was ticking, and Troy had to formulate some kind of an answer. Honestly, he had never heard of this technology before. Likely because of his short time here. But, had he seen it before? Not small things, like the earpiece but bigger stuff. Way bigger even. "Quick question", Troy said. "How far along do you think the world is a three-dimensional projection?" You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "Depends", Charlie said. "Can you be a little more specific?" "I was thinking around the lines, of being able to touch it," Troy clarified. "What? The visual projection?" Charlie asked. Troy nodded. "The visual projection, that''s made with a basis of fancy light placement?" Troy nodded again. "Why did I even ask?" Charlie said, looking up at the ceiling. "Your face talking about this whole thing should have made it obvious from the beginning." Troy just sat there, as Charlie mulled over his thoughts. The silence was better than an accusation, after all. But, as the seconds turned into minutes, he felt the need to break the silence. The conversation was not over, and they had a likely impatient group to get back to. "So¡­ ", Troy began, hoping to draw Charlie out of his thoughts. It took a few seconds, but he did turn to look at Troy. "Yes?" Charlie asked. "What is it?" "Will you tell the others?" Troy asked. "What would I tell them about? I cant say that they can be too interested in the ongoing of your department," Charlie asked right back, with a confused tone. "That I cheated," Troy clarified. "Oh. That," Charlie said, like it wasn''t important. "You''re putting too much pressure on yourself. We don''t really care too much about who wins. In the end, it''s just meant to be exciting." "But¡­ aren''t you angry? I could have cheated my way into getting your money," Troy said, slightly baffled. And, Charlie just laughed at him. "Oh, what an exciting time that would be," Charlie said, before he grew more serious. "Troy. There''s something you need to know. A month''s wage here is enough to grant you a good life until the day you die. Money is not a problem, which anybody of us have. We have positions that give us more than others will ever get to dream off. The money we gamble is meant to be lost in some way. We don''t care how, as long as it''s gone by the end of the night." A month is enough to live off¡­ Troy could believe it. "If you''ve got so much money, why haven''t you just quit, and lived a life of luxury?" Troy asked, with a confused voice. It would be, what he would do. "I probably would have, if I could", Charlie said, with a short laugh. After looking at Troy''s expression, though, that smile sobered up quickly. "You don''t know, do you?" "I don''t think so." "Well¡­ When you get the chance to do so, try to read over that contract of yours. I think there are a few details, which you might have missed," Charlie stated. "Any spoilers on what these details are?" Troy led on. "No, I don''t think I could say," Charlie said, as he got up. "Come on. The group is probably thinking about where we are. Let''s get back." "But we didn''t get anything to bring back", Troy objected. "They didn''t expect us to. Let''s go" And, back they went. He took the earpiece with him, as Troy''s mind finally began understanding what they had just talked about.
As Charlie had predicted, the others didn''t mind their lack of beverages. At first, they didn''t even notice that they had even come back. Darlow had taken over, in Charlie''s place, in discussing politics with Zep, turning it all around on itself. The night went on. A few drinks were had. Some tales were told. Charlie was slapped a lot of times by everybody. Troy even got a light slap in himself by the end. Good times. But, like every good thing, that ever existed, it came to an end. The time had progressed so quickly, that Zep had missed her clock-in time, so she had to run first. Francis had already left at that point, not to anybody''s notice. Troy was told that was normal, though. With so few left, it was decided to just leave it at that, and get back their rooms. Together they walked to the entrance of the shopping street, before finally making their final goodbyes of the night. "Troy", Charlie said, as they were walking down the hallway. The others had gone in the opposite direction. It seemed like the number of hallways of personal rooms had been vastly more than Troy had originally estimated. But, they were placed strategically. The placement was so, people would have to walk the least amount of distance, throughout the day. As it turned out, the two of them had personal rooms very close to each other. Not the same hallway though. "Yes?" Troy stated, looking over at Charlie. "Just before we go separate ways tonight, you should probably know this," Charlie began explaining. "If we''re following the normal schedule, we should be playing blackjack at the next meet-up. It would be best for all of us if you didn''t bring that earpiece with you next time. The first time, it''s fun and new. The next¡­ it gets a little strained. Not fun for anybody. Do you get what I''m saying?" An underlying threat, thinly veiled in sweet words. "Yup", Troy said, with no amount of calmness in his tone. "Oh, do relax now", Charlie said, with a good clap to Troy''s back. "It''s bad for your health to be stressed at this time of day." Like saying that would bring any positive effects. "And¡­ this is my stop for the day," Charlie continued. "See you in the morning." "See you", Troy said right back, with a small wave to accompany. Charlie walked down the hallway to the right, while Troy just walked forward. Now that he was alone, he finally had time to formulate his thoughts. What could he call tonight? A success? A failure? Calling it either would be a lie. Somewhere in between would fit the best. He succeeded in coming into the group, smoothly assimilating into it, with only a few hiccups. But, there had been failures too. While he succeeded in one goal, he severely failed in the other. Nobody was to realize his¡­ personal changes to the rules. Charlie noticed it. But, that hadn''t been Troy''s fault, from what he was told. It was Adam''s. Wait. Did Charlie ever tell how he realized? ¡­ That wide piece of- No. Troy needed to focus. A void of information was found. And, to fix this hole, he would need to ask somebody, that had the needed, very specific information. Adam, to be exact. Fishing the earpiece out of his pocket, he took a good, long look at it. This little thing had helped Troy so much. Should he thank Adam for it all? Not outright, of course. More along the lines of informing that the test had been successful in its goals? Eh. It sounded fine enough in Troy''s head. What''s the worst that could happen? He put on the earpiece, with a little twisting, to make sure it fits snugly. It had been getting a little used, and the ear-hanging part was getting loose. Troy needed to get that fixed, somehow. ''You have questions.'', Adam started out immediately. "Was it that obvious?" Troy asked rhetorically. ''Through the context, yes.'', Adam sent. Troy decided to just ignore Adam''s answer, as he jumped right into it. "Why didn''t you tell me that Charlie figured it out?" Troy asked, as he continued to walk down the hallway. He couldn''t remember it splitting at this point, but that could just be him misremembering. He did remember walking to the right, at some point, so that''s what he just ended up going with. ''I was worried about your reaction. It was your obvious reaction, which started the whole chain reaction. Hoping that you would not react to the same extent, with more severe news would be illogical of me.'', Adam explained. "And, not knowing that Charlie knew about you was a better alternative? What if he told the others?" Troy said. Okay, there was definitely supposed to be a left turn here. Instead, Troy could only go forward or right. The left turn had to appear at some point, so he just went forward. ''You know it would not change the outcome if Charlie decided to reveal it to the other people in the group.'', Adam pointed out, which was fair. "Fine," Troy conceded. "How did he even figure it all out?" This time, it took a small while for Adam to answer. ''It was an avoidable failure on my part.'', Adam finally said. "Care to be more specific?" Troy asked. ''Do I have to?'', Adam asked back. "Yes." ''What will the consequences of my silence be?'' "I will slightly twist your requests during regular testing so that the end result will have a slightly larger chance of ending in failure." ''You wouldn''t dare.'' "Try me." A pause. ''I-congratulated-him-on-his-succes.'' "A bit slower, please." ''I mistakenly congratulated him on success in winning, due to my personal failure in identifying who I was talking to.'' "... that''s stupid." ''I have realized.'' On the subject of stupidity, where exactly had Troy wandered off to? Chapter 33: Hypercorrection
It was official. Troy was lost. Not of mind, but of, where the hell he was supposed to be. Not in that funny way, where he''s actually just around the corner of where he wants to be. No, he was lost in the position, where he could go straight out in any direction, and not get to anywhere that he recognized. In essence, people would call his current situation; ''totally fucked.'' Not a good state to be in, in Troy''s own opinion. But, he was also the culprit of this whole thing happening, so his words couldn''t really be trusted, at this point. It was already late, and getting ever later by the minute. He was slightly buzzed, but not enough to feel it in the morning. What he would feel, though, was his back, if he fell asleep on the floor. He just wanted his bed. It was comfy and did not cause his back to hating him too much. "Are you sure that you don''t know where we are?" Troy asked Adam, as he took yet another unspecified turn. "Because, if you do, and this is some personal calibration time, where you don''t pay attention to me enough, please get out of that state, and show me the way." Three was the number of times, in which Troy had asked Adam that particular question. After the first, he always knew what the answer would be. Yet, Troy just kept asking. ''No. I do not know where we reside spatially compared to our usual placement. If I figure this out, I will inform you about it. And, no, I am not analyzing myself to perfection. That is first scheduled to happen in two hours. Now, that we are on that subject, please speed up your walking. I do not want to delay my daily calibration further.'', Adam sent out. Why was Troy so terrible at this? He had been here for days now. Finding his way around shouldn''t be this hard! But, finding the reason why that was, was not on his current agenda. Frankly, he couldn''t care less. Finding his room was much more important. Adam had even found a solution, to this problem of there''s, albeit a luck-based solution. While he hadn''t recognized any of their surroundings, he might be able to do so in the future. Therefore, if Troy just kept randomly walking, at some point, they should be somewhere they had been before, making it possible for them to find Troy''s room. In that little, ideal plan of his, Adam had certainly not thought about the astounding size of this place. It hadn''t been too long since Troy had decided to walk back to, where the shopping street was supposed to be. The problem with that was¡­ he couldn''t remember which way he had walked. And, Adam didn''t know either. Due to Troy''s genius idea of keeping the earpiece in his pocket for the rest of the night, Adam''s perception had been effectively zero. He didn''t even know, that they had finished their small gathering. Honestly, if they didn''t find anything soon, Troy would begin knocking on the walls as well. He had personally seen two different, secret entrances. There had to be others. Sure, they had secret codes to open, but they couldn''t be too hard to guess. From what Troy had seen, the people here had something of a terrible- "What are you doing out here?" a voice said from his side. An awfully familiar voice. Turning his head, Troy saw somebody he hadn''t expected to see out and about. "Good afternoon, Dr Hale", Troy politely said, slowing down his steps, to not just walk past her. She was walking awfully slowly, now that he was thinking about it. "I could ask you the same thing." "I''m getting back from data analysis. Something you get to be out of, due to some big letters spelling national security," Dr Hale answered, as evenly as always. She didn''t even look tired, not a difference from her usual look to be seen. "And, good afternoon? Has this facility skewed your perception so much? It''s two in the morning." Two in the morning¡­ explained why he was so tired, at least. "I am¡­ not too good with my spatial awareness. It usually takes me a while to get used to finding my way around places like these", Troy finally answered Dr Hale''s original question, with no small amount of diffidence. "It''s troubling that you''ve been in places like this", Dr Hale observed, not attempting to masking her criticism. A pause was felt before she sighed. "It should be at this point, where you ask me for assistance," Dr Hale stated. "Unless¡­ is it a personal pastime of yours, being unable to find your way? If so, it might be wise for you to choose a new hobby." This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ''Ask her for assistance.'', Adam sent, as to agree with her. He didn''t need to request it. Troy had gotten the point the first time. "Could you be so kind, as to-", Troy began but was stopped by another voice overshadowing it. "Don''t waste time using long words," Dr Hale said. "Just, be quick with your questions, and follow me, while you''re at it." Then, off she went, walking with quicker strides than Troy had ever seen on her. He had to nearly run if he wanted to keep up with her. This speed of theirs left no breath for Troy to initiate any kind of conversation. Not that he felt any need to do so, but it was the principle of the whole thing. Taking a small glance over at Dr Hale, Troy saw her walking with the same impassive face, that she usually had. She wasn''t even breathing deeply. How could Dr Hale find this speed reasonable? Troy was a good ten centimetres higher than her, yet she was just so quick on her feet. Her steps were not rapid, but her strides were long, without looking overstretched. Altogether, it was combined into a walking speed faster than anything which could be called comfortable. Yet, it still seemed that somebody saw the whole thing as perfectly fine. "So, how has your time with Charlie''s group of misfits been?" Dr Hale asked her tone as impassive as ever. But¡­ there was a small amount of curiosity blended in with it all. When had Dr Hale ever been curious? Wasn''t that Dr Fidelis'' thing. He would strengthen the research as a whole, while Dr Hale would keep a leash on it all. "In the beginning, I would have said it was fine and all, but, after hanging around them for such a long time, I really just think that-", Troy began, trying to get into his best narration headspace. "Keep it to quick sentences. The walk isn''t long enough for your life story," Dr Hale cut in, intentionally ruining that little mindset, which Troy had been attempting. "... Fine. It was fine," Troy just said. Did she want quick answers? She was gonna get quick answers. "And, did you stay careful, as I asked you to?" Dr Hale answered, bringing Troy back to earlier in the day. She had asked that of him, now that he was thinking about it. "Yes," Troy answered after some deliberation. Technically, he hadn''t been careful enough, in the least, but there wasn''t any reason to mention that part. "I find that hard to believe," Dr Hale said, instead of asking a question. Nonetheless, Troy stayed firm in his quick statements. "Why?" he asked, with something of a confused tone. Dr Hale just looked at him for a second, a slight contemplation on her face and her eyes narrowed, before turning her head back forward again. "The fact that you even had to ask that, is a problem in and of itself", Dr Hale said, after just looking forward in the last little while. "Keeping an eye on yourself and your surroundings is something you will need, in a place like this." No more conversation came forth. Troy kept quiet, still wanting to stick to his one-word sentences. And, starting a whole conversation would be hard using those. Yet, it wasn''t like Dr Hale would be starting anything soon. From a few more glances, which he had done so many times, that Adam himself had to ask him to stop, he saw Dr Hale deep in thought. How Troy just wanted to know what she was thinking about. To be more precise, he wanted to know if she was thinking about him. Deep thought about a person, hinted at criticism at the minimum. But, just wanting to know, didn''t change anything in the end. After some more walking, Adam notified, that he could find the way to their personal room from where they currently were. Troy notified Dr Hale of such. "I can recognize this place, so finding my way back shouldn''t be too hard now," Troy said. "Thanks for the help." "I was just distracting myself from my duties", Dr Hale said, clearly deflecting his gratitude. "And, it would be best, if you began memory exercises shortly. Not remembering the way is fine for the few days, but forgetting for more will equal unneeded paperwork for me. Something you will do your best to avoid." A hint to stay in line, if Troy ever heard one. "Message clear", Troy confirmed, with a small nod of his head. "Well, if you''ll excuse me, I''m going to fall into my bed in my room." And, off he walked, ready to take on the task of sleeping like a rock. Maybe a shower first, though. Even he would feel shame if he- "Before you do that, I''m sure it would be best if you left the earpiece by the bed. Can''t have it getting broken," Dr Hale quietly muttered, as she walked away. "What?" Troy asked, having clearly heard, what she said. "Good night, Troy", Dr Hale said, her back turned already. He just watched her go, quietly stewing the words inside his mind. The earpiece¡­ the god damn earpiece. ''Leaving on the earpiece was a miscalculation, on your side. My own observations are not too crucial, as long as you can relay the conversation to me at a later date.'', Adam sent, as Troy became unable to hear Dr Hale''s footsteps. "Why would you think, I left the earpiece on, just so you could hear?" Troy asked absentmindedly, still caught on in his head. Yet again, he had screwed up. It was great Adam knew, where the room was, or Troy would be scared about running into Dr Fidelis while they were at it. Oh, that just brought back the hell of it all. Dr Hale knew. The second person, who, under no circumstances, is supposed to know of Troy''s actions now knew exactly what he had done. Well, not exactly what he had done, but she had likely deduced all the important parts of it. ''What other reason would you have kept the earpiece visible? While the chance of discovery would be temporarily increased, during the removal process into the pocket, the overall chance would be decreased through the average.'', Adam explained. What a logical portrayal of a reasoned mind. Troy hadn''t even considered it. "I¡­ kinda forgot the earpiece," Troy stated, a bit ashamed of him even saying it. Adam did not respond instantly. Troy thought of it, as Adam checked to see if Troy was joking or not. ''You do realize that the visibility of the earpiece was how we originally nearly got caught?'', Adam asked, his stoic voice seeming extra cutting to Troy. "I do realize so, yes," Troy said, his back deflating bit by bit, as he walked ahead too. He needed to be more aware of himself. ¡­ Maybe, Troy would follow Dr Hale''s tip, and do a few of those memory exercises every once in a while. A lot, if it would seem as if it worked. ''Do you believe Dr Hale will tell Dr Fidelis about your unregulated testing?'', Adam sent to Troy. Was that really what he was worried about? Guess Troy couldn''t be too angry about it. To Adam, that would seem like all that was at stake. "Only the blood god will know," Troy muttered, half as an answer to Adam, and a half to himself. ''He prefers to be called Dr Fidelis.'' Chapter 34: Codetermination
As the night went, morning came with it. And Troy wasn''t too happy about it. Beside him sat Dr Hale, looking identical to yesterday night. If Troy squinted his eyes a bit, the flaws in her sat-up hair seemed just like those from the day before. Had she even slept? "Quit staring at my hair," Dr Hale muttered, not having much spirit in her words. "Focus on your food. You don''t have too long before we need to go." Not long, huh? That was a rather larger understatement. This morning, Troy''s body, being so smart as usual, had done an advanced reaction to hearing the alarm clock. He had, without waking up mind you, sat up, reached across the bed to get over to the alarm clock, ripped off the charger, turning the noise off in the process, and gone back to bed. To his luck, Troy had woken up half an hour later. After a quick glance at the time, he had promptly bolted out of his bed. And, after a hectic fifteen minutes of preparing, he had ended up here. Coffee at hand, oatmeal on the table, and a Charlie across from him looking as lovely as usual. How the hell did he accomplish that? "Take it as a compliment," Charlie said, his eyes facing in the general direction of Dr Hale. "If a man stares at your hair for more than ten seconds, you must have done something right with it." "Ignoring the first part of that statement of yours, I believe Troy may be staring for all the wrong reasons. Mainly, it could be due to a lack of proper relaxation", Dr Hale monotonically pointed out. "You wouldn''t have any suspicions, for why that would be?" Charlie gasped in horror. Troy couldn''t bear to look at it. The factor of realism needed to be existent the next time, please. "Accusing an innocent man, now? Dr Hale, your worldview has fractured too far!", Charlie proclaimed loudly. From the other tables, people gave him slightly frustrated glances. It was good to know, that Troy wasn''t the only one, who wasn''t too much of a morning person. "How about the two of us go out of our way, and have a relaxing afternoon¡­ with plenty of soothing beverages as well. We''ll call it a testing night, and get ourselves a paid day off. Sounds good?" "We''ve already used one of those this month. If we do it more, my superior will do more, than ask questions about it," Dr Hale said. And, was that a hint of frustration Troy was hearing? Frustration about a superior¡­ well, the only one above Dr Hale, who he knew by name, was Dr Fidelis. Troy couldn''t imagine him prying too much into it, due to suspicion about work avoidance, though. Details about the test seemed much more along the lines of his character. "A shame to outmatch, the new sound of silence," Charlie said, with a sigh at the end, before standing up. "Welp. I''ve been delaying leaving for too long. I need to run, or my coworker will yell at me. Bye!" Dr Hale didn''t respond, but Troy tried to make up for it, with a small wave. On the subject of delaying, Troy needed to go through his breakfast, or he''d be forced to leave it behind soon. Dr Hale was already done and was just looking down on her plate. Soon, she would look at the watch, before declaring it was time to go. But, the meal today just seemed so stale. It felt as if his tongue just didn''t want to taste anything. Why Troy wasn''t too sure. Something to bring up with Dr Fidelis maybe? Or, it could just be- No! No more thinking about stuff. Troy shovelled a large portion of oatmeal into his face, his eyes widening in surprise just after. Wait, no, forget calling it to surprise. That sounded way too positive for what actually took place. Tears welled up in his tear ducts, just waiting to fire out. The inside of Troy''s mouth burned with the passion of a thousand suns. "Just so we''re clear, this is all your fault", Dr Hale said, her emotionless face hinting at a sadistic level of enjoyment. "I''m just watching it all unfold. And, why didn''t you notice the pure steam coming from that bowl of yours?" Troy forced himself to swallow, and feeling his insides hating him for it. His core felt as if it was heating up. He took several gulps of his coffee, it seeming cold in comparison. "I have been a little distracted this morning", Troy finally amended, after getting the nerves in his mouth back under control. "You could even call it mildly stressed." Dr Hale seemed about as interested in his words as usual. As in, she was listening, because it was her job description to do so. "As the person in charge of your mental health", Dr Hale, with a pause to sigh at her own words. "Don''t be stressed. It gives me more work." Wow. Troy no longer felt the need to communicate his stress level to her anymore. With those encouraging thoughts, he chugged the rest of his coffee, before looking at the daunting task before him. Should he even attempt to eat the burning lava of oats? ¡­ Nah. Lunch would surely be better. "How long till we''re leaving", Troy asked Dr Hale, as he debated getting himself another cup of wake-up fuel. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. "We were supposed to be running two minutes ago", Dr Hale said, after a quick look at the time. "... Why haven''t we done so?" he asked, more than a little confused. "Not feeling like it, but that''s a constant," Dr Hale said. "The main reason must be because I can. My first priority is having you fit for testing. In an argument, everything can be seen as secondary. If by some unfortunate reason, you come to breakfast late, I can''t do a lot of anything to fix it. Much less, if you decide to eat extremely slowly. On that topic, are you done? That argument of mine will only work for the first ten minutes. After that, you''re gonna have to vomit some blood for me." Not feeling up to that particular task, Troy hastily sprung up from his seat and began navigating out of the cafeteria. A slightly amused Dr Hale followed from behind.
As the numbers were pressed into the coloured wall, Troy began thinking a few thoughts to himself. Particular some focused on a previous talk, that Troy had had with Charlie last night. "Why is this room even hidden?" Troy asked Dr Hale, who looked up from the wall at his voice. "Any reason for this question?" Dr Hale asked back, not asking his very simple question. "No reason in particular", Troy lied, with a surprisingly nonchalant voice. "Was just wondering about it. There has to be some reason it''s hidden, right?" Dr Hale narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before just losing interest in calling him out on his lie. "According to the rules, we have to keep some places restricted from the general population. Only those with special clearances have permission to even know about some of the things that are worked on here. With the size of this place, it''s natural that not everybody is trusted enough by the government," Dr Hale explained, as she put in the last few numbers. Though¡­ it seemed awfully long today. "But, everybody still has the right to roam the hallways, yet aren''t allowed to even know the name of the restricted department. So, with the stupid way this system works, hidden doors were seen as the best solution." A fair amount of criticism of the government was heard in those few sentences. Knowing who the owners of this facility were, Troy wasn''t too sure he felt comfortable standing so close to her. Not that Troy had to, of course, seeing as the door opened to let them step into the hidden testing location. Inside, Dr Fidelis stood as always. Yet, this time his smile was a little faltered. He still seemed happy about his day, but a little less so than normal. "A bit late today, aren''t we?" Dr Fidelis jovially joked around. Or, at least, Troy thought he joked. His face implied so at the minimum. Dr Hale looked ready to talk, but Troy only noticed it at the last second. "Sorry," Troy said, with a chided tone. "I was a little late to breakfast." Dr Fidelis looked at Troy, his eyebrows slightly raised. Clearly, he had been expecting Dr Hale to be the one making excuses today. "Well¡­ ", Dr Fidelis started. "Just make sure that it doesn''t happen again. We have the tests to do." He got off easy this time. But, if a next time was even considered, Troy knew the consequences would be more than a little harsher. As he and Dr Fidelis began strapping on the usual gear, he got off to wondering, what was in store for today. But, like always, he knew the results before he even asked. "What exciting test might we do today?" Troy asked, his voice making it clear, what kind of answer he was expecting. Dr Fidelis looked at him coyly. "The regulations make it impossible for me to say even slight hints, at what tests I may or may not do today," Dr Fidelis recited off the top of his head, while making his voice sound like a wizened old man. "Luckily for you, I''ve already explained the test." ¡­ What? "When exactly did you do that?" Troy asked, his voice bewildered. His mind shared the same kind of state. Did he forget? No, he could have done that so quickly. Even his memory had standards on that. "Because I don''t remember that particular part of this conversation of ours." Oh, that old man was just enjoying this whole schtick. The exasperated face of his just made Dr Fidelis smile wider. "Not much to my own frustration, I have to follow those rules of mine," Dr Fidelis just stated joyfully. What a terrible person one must be, liking to prevent one from learning. "I guess you just have to wait and find out." Troy was not gonna wait too long for that. The final button was buttoned, and, with that done, he immediately began marching over to the entrance, the normal earpiece in hand. Now that he thought about it, would Adam be a little grateful, if he got to see outside of the white space more often? He had gotten to see a lot, of course, but that hadn''t really been seen as any kind of officiality in any meaningful capacity. Troy would need to ask Dr Fidelis about that, after the test maybe. If he could remember. Those were his thoughts, as he went over the metal grating, and was engulfed by a world of no shadows. As he stepped inside, and his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the earpiece in his hand was put on his ear. Before Adam even had the chance to utter anything, Troy felt it was time for a new change of pace. "Good Morning, Adam," Troy said, walking a bit more forward before coming to a stop. If he understood the mechanics of the room right, the action was pointless, but it did help Troy get into the right mindset, so he didn''t really care about the logistics of it. Adam was not to be underestimated, though. ''What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be a good one? Hm?'', Adam rapidly fired at Troy, without a moment''s hesitation. Well, at least a moment to Troy. He wasn''t too sure how long it was to Adam. "All of them, I suppose", Troy said, with slight hesitation. ''This does not provide me with adequate knowledge. Please give me a better answer.'', Adam unabashedly stated. He didn''t even realise what he did there, Troy guessed, with a mental shake of his head. "Don''t you have enough knowledge to keep you entertained for a little while more?" Troy asked. There was no way in this dimension that he was making another answer, but saying so would be a little harsh. Especially when it was being recorded. ''With any amount of information, I could theoretically keep myself entertained, as you say, for an indefinite amount of time?'', Adam said to Troy, not putting any kind of special tone on. "Was that an overcomplicated way to say forever?" Troy said, asking for clarification on the last part, of what Adam had said. He was a bit fast on the trigger with fancy words today. Or¡­ maybe it was just Troy being a little stupid today. Could be either really. ''In this context of usage, yes, it does mean forever'', Adam helpfully clarified to him. Not that he sounded like he was enjoying it. Not the opposite either, but still. "Then¡­ if you can keep on forever, with what you have, why do want more of it?" Troy asked, with a perplexed tone. "I mean, if it''s entertaining, why change it out at all?" Without any sound even coming through, Troy could just imagine Adam clearing his non-existent throat, ready to say much more than what was asked. ''While I can be entertained by a repeat loop of five seconds, I do not need to. Yes, it stops me from being bored, but the simple knowledge that there is more to know, and that I''m missing out on it, is more than enough motivation to move. To make you better understand it, how about I make it into an analogy? You have a tongue. With this versatile and moveable muscle process, you can do all sort of things. Here, we will be focusing on its ability to taste. Like most other observed humans, I will presume that you have a favourite consumable. Be it potatoes, cake, frozen pizzas or wasabi peanuts, it doesn''t matter. Say, you have an infinite amount of food, with all infinite varieties of combinations. It isn''t just focused on your particular favourite food, but all kinds of foods, if you can understand. Now¡­ with this infinite amount of food, you can decide what you will eat for all infinity. You can eat your favourite food constantly, of course. It is good. You know it is good because you have tried it so many times before. But, will the knowledge of the other foods on the sides not distract you? Will you not feel the desire to try something new every once in a while? The same is good, but something new is not so bad either. That''s how I would describe it. Do you understand now?'' A lot of words. "Just a tad more than before", Troy stated, a little baffled at the sheer amount of words uttered. He had been expecting a lot, but holy frick, that was too much for one sitting. ''Then, I see it as a success.'', Adam sent. Nothing more was said between them, as Dr Fidelis came in. *Are you ready to start soon?* Chapter 35: Circumlocution
His voice was cutting, yet also squeaky in just the wrong way. Specifically, in the way, where you didn''t want to punch him, but instead just punch yourself because it was faster. Troy knew it was because of the radio being messed up, but, really, who could have lived with themselves, if they knew that such sound would ever be produced from their inventions? "Yeah, I''m ready, Dr Fidelis", Troy said with a grimace. "Before we start the explanation of the test and all, though, would it be possible for you to readjust the frequency on the communicator a bit? Your voice sounds a bit¡­ stiff, to say it properly." *What? That shouldn''t be happening. The frequency is supposed to adjust automatically, with distance as the modifier. The only way it could sound stiff is if the earpiece is supposed to be¡­*, Dr Fidelis said, but cut himself off, without explaining it to completion. What was he thinking? *... Troy.*, Dr Fidelis stated. "Yes, Dr Fidelis?" Troy asked. He didn''t like that tone of his. *You, really need to go to bed sooner, buddy*, Dr Fidelis began. *I have the excuse of needing to plan tests. You, as the resident test subject, is supposed to be in optimal condition. This means that you need to not still be up at two in the morning.* Troy was starting to see the whole picture, with that statement. The whatever-it-was-called had picked up Troy''s personal earpiece being used during the night, and adjusted to it. This sounded like it demanded it to be worn through. Wouldn''t that mean that Dr Fidelis could look at when Troy had been using the earpiece? It did not sound like anything Troy should be asking into. He wouldn''t be wanting to give Dr Fidelis any bad ideas now. "Message received," Troy confirmed. "I''ll try to get a good sleep schedule going. Starting tonight, of course." Troy could hear Dr Fidelis sigh through the earpiece. *I expect nothing less of you, buddy. Now, is my voice sounding right? Can''t have it changing the results, now, can we?*, Dr Fidelis said, with a little humour at the end, to sprite up the mood a bit. Getting over to his question, the voice sounded fine. There was a bit of throat scratching still within hearing range, but asking for perfect sound quality was an ideal world''s dream. Not something one should be expecting. "It''s fine", Troy confirmed. "Shall we move on with the test?" *Hold on a moment. I just quickly need Adam too- and, there we go! We are officially ready to start this whole thing up. First off, the explanation with this test will be absurdly easy. This can be attributed to the simple fact, which is that you''ve heard it all before. Starting today, we will be redoing one of yesterday''s tests. Namely, the one, where Troy lies or tells the truth, and Adam is supposed to guess which it is. I personally thought that that particular chapter of testing was done for, but the people higher up certainly did not think so. In fact, they hated the results that they required for me to complete this whole thing over again. And, through the power of personal failure, I have accidentally turned off the recording of my own voice, just now, making it possible for me to say whatever I please about the stupidity of their actions. Troy, can you guess why they didn''t like the results? They didn''t like your statements, calling them all too easy. They wanted Adam to fail much more, than what was seen yesterday. I feel pity for those people. That they need clear cut results, to understand their meaning, is something that we might never be able to cure. Pure theatrics away, I do need to go over the points, with a more serious overlay. First off; Troy, your questions need to be dynamic in their difficulty. When Adam gets an answer right, make the next statement harder to parse. When he gets it wrong, make it easier. Try to find a middle ground, where Adam''s reasoning makes sense but is still sometimes wrong. Makes it easier for me to improve the quality in the end. Adam¡­ you''re doing fine. Just keep doing it like you did yesterday. So, that''s everything you need to know. Any questions?* Troy didn''t bring anything up, and, from the lack of Dr Fidelis readily explaining the fabric of reality like it was a yellow horn, he was guessed that Adam didn''t have any either. *No? Great! You can just get started, when I finish talking then*, Dr Fidelis said through the earpiece, before it made the customary sound of somebody cutting off the connection. Troy wondered briefly if it was a design feature to do so. Before him, two two-dimensional squares appeared, one blue and the other red. Identical setup to last time they did this. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. So, just to recap to himself, Troy needed to press the blue square, if Adam''s prediction was true, and didn''t sound like too much of a guess. If his prediction was false, or if he didn''t make a good enough reason for his choice, Troy would press the red square. Simple. So, the new addition today, would be making it harder for Adam to guess correctly? That seemed easy enough. Mostly, due to his ability to make simple sentences at the start. What was hard to guess lies, really? Like, was it over-complicated and overlong sentences, where the true meaning was so obscured, that you had no sensible idea of why it even was that length, to begin with, other than the sheer purpose of making it seem intangible? ¡­ Could be, Troy mused to himself. Anyway, they needed to start it all up soon. Dr Fidelis had cut himself off about twenty seconds ago. "Should we get started, Adam?" Troy asked not really focusing on any spot in the room in particular. It was a little exercise he had been trying to maintain, not symbolising the objects with Adam''s persona. Later in the day, he had even realized that he had been looking at the ceiling mostly when communicating with him outside of the testing facilities. It wasn''t something he wanted to maintain doing. ''Neither. A question, in this specific context, cannot be a lie or a truth. It can only be a lead up to either.'', Adam sent out, completely missing the point of Troy''s question. It seemed like he was of the mindset, that they had already begun. Nothing too bad to misunderstand. Troy wasn''t sure, he could say anything to let him know of that, though. Wouldn''t anything he said, just be seen as Troy trying to mislead Adam? In the conclusion of that, it would probably just be best, if he just saw it, as an unintended start of the whole thing. Also, Adams'' answer was technically correct, so he got himself a blue square tap for that. This also meant that Troy needed to put the difficulty up. Or, the difficulty could already be debated, so deciding what to say, purely from that, would be hard. ¡­ Better to have the scale of difficulty in the background, for reference only, but not use it as a standard for everything. As long as the statements were around the needed hardness, it would be fine. Should be fine, would be more accurate. With those few details decided, it was time for a new sentence. Troy decided to just act like this one was the first. The previous one was easy, anyway. "I do believe in flying rabbits," Troy said, as evenly as possible. That one should give him a few seconds to figure out. ------------------ Was Troy misunderstanding the scale of difficulty, which he was supposed to be following? Or, was he purposely messing with him, so he would think more about the reasons behind the statements, and not the overall truthfulness of them? These overcomplicating thoughts ran through Adam''s mind space, leaving nearly no space between them. The logic loops spinning off of them was getting incredibly annoying to keep in check, so he just shut down that branch of thoughts entirely. There was a time to analyse the reasoning behind the meaning statements, and this was not it. So, back on the topic, which Adam should have been focusing on from the start. Was Troy being truthful, or was he lying? First off, Adam began to take a look at Troy''s physical body. As was obvious in this line of thinking, he began looking at the movements first. Twitchy muscles in the core area, when not doing a higher level of fitness, regularly indicated a higher amount of stress. Stress, which could have been gaining finding plausible lies, and steeling oneself to tell them without showing much emotion on one''s face. In Troy''s case, he was either training his abs'' static muscle during a highly unusual time, or he was trying to keep his face without any damning indications. Adam personally predicted for the latter. And Troy''s back wasn''t doing so well either. Usually, in day to day activities, Adam had noticed a large amount of improper posturing, which he had been getting worried about. Troy would be giving himself kyphosis if he continued with such posture. But, that wasn''t too important. What was important, was the pure straightness of his back. And Adam wasn''t referring to the passive flexion of the back muscles, but active thinking about keeping it straight. This amount of muscle activity required a semi-active focus. A good indicator, that Troy was keeping his face still with great effort. And those two were just the two most obvious signs of static muscles showing his true meanings. The tongue pressing upward, the toes bearing the main weight, the shoulders tense, his legs ready to make the body spin at a moments notice, and his left hand in a fist all showed the true thoughts of Troy. In conclusion, from simply looking at the body, nearly everything, which Adam was relatively sure about, indicated that Troy was not speaking the truth, and was, in fact, lying when he said he believed in flying rabbits. With that part of the analysis done, it was time for a brief look over at contextual analysis. This one could be thrown away, in situations requiring more quick reactions, but, if Adam had the time, there was no good, logical explanation for, why he should spend it, with more analysis. So, in full, the statement was ''I do believe in flying rabbits''. The easiest starting point in analysing this sentence would be looking at the word of focus. Rabbit. Now, Adam had never heard of this word before, due to a lack of it being used doing day-to-day conversation, which he had been able to observe. This, to his own lack of feasible alternatives, meant that he had to use his own, pre-known information to dig into its roots. Rabbit: A land-faring animal. Most related to the idiom; Breed like rabbits. To his surprise, the information had one more sentence, than average. Granted, the last sentence did not fully help Adam, in his current endeavour, but he was sure that it would assist him someday. Now, to focus on the first, and only currently useful sentence. It represented rabbits, as animals, who focused on the land, instead of the sky. With the extremely low chance of the information being outright wrong, Adam decided that rabbits were seen as land-based animals to the general populace. This would further hint, at Troy lying, with rabbits not being stated as being able to fly, in any capacity. But, he also only stated that he believed it to be so. This would imply that while it wasn''t proven to be factual to be so, he believed that people just had not gone around to do it yet. That¡­ did not make sense, in Adam''s opinion. If the animal had been studied enough to determine that it was landbased, the same people would have noticed, if the rabbit had any abilities focused on sprouting wings, and flying away. Yet, if one aspired to be even more sceptical of common facts, this rabbit could also be a rather rare creature, making most information about it come from pure theory, by looking at it from afar. ¡­ No, that wouldn''t make sense, either. If that theory was true, the showcased idiom would be without any meaningful context attached! ''Breed like rabbits'', it stated. If the people studying it knew that particular part of its biology, they must have known about other parts of its anatomy beforehand. Finally, without any more counter-arguments, to Adam''s own, near-definite answer, he decided to send his predictions to Troy. ''Your statement is false. Your movements indicate a readiness to tell falsehoods, and your words make no sense to the showcased reality.'', Adam sent to Troy. As a response, he just shrugged with his shoulders, before pressing down on the blue square. Another success, just like Adam had expected of himself. Though¡­ the whole processing took nearly five centiseconds more than the expected timeframe. He needed to be more efficient with his thoughts. It was nearly embarrassing. Troy would be ashamed of Adam if he had any capacity to notice the too high time difference from the usual. After having pressed the square, Troy looked to be getting into his regular, talking position. Adam still wondered why he had one for that. Originally he thought it was to make the posture synergize with the lungs, to make the most optimal blood flow, and subsequent higher ability to speak. After a brief study into it, it simply turned out to be a position gained through sheer classical conditioning. What those conditions were, though, were still debatable. A mix of instincts, and taller than average height was the current presumed cause. "I feel like, I''m currently in a good position when it comes to my personal world-view," Troy said, with such sarcasm, that Adam had an initial problem understanding it. ¡­ And, what a curious thing to say. Adam wasn''t sure what Troy meant. Also, he wasn''t sure that Troy knew either. An unthought-of meta. How... out of the figurative box. Wasn''t Troy supposed to leave the harder statements for later? Chapter 36: Complementation
For too long a time, this game of truth and lie continued. To Troy, it was much more fun than last time they had done the test. In the start, it had been a little janky, trying to make the sentences equally complex. Now, after having been doing it for nearly two hours, getting anything said was easier, than just breathing. "I have a severe fear of a character I saw on the television when I was a kid," Troy said, with a voice as calm as usual. Lately, his voice had even gained itself a small amount of hoarseness. He had talked a lot these past times. Troy needed to do some vocal exercises beforehand if tests like these became a regular thing. Getting back on the actual test, he loved saying long statements like that oh so much. This was because of a very simple thing. When he had been younger, stupider, and just generally not knowing too much about the world, Troy had taken himself a beginners class in psychology. He had failed said class, but that was a whole other matter. In this class, the first few weeks had been about a certain subject called lying. What made a lie what it was, what signs were there of a lie, and how could one hide a lie. Don''t ask him all that information. There was a distinct reason he got a failing grade in that class. Now, if there was a single fact, which stayed with for the longest amount of time, it would be this; Hide your lies with truth. It must have sounded outright wrong to most hearing it for the first time. It certainly did so, for the younger Troy. But, after having it explained with a few more words than that, it made so much more sense. Humans, and all creatures in general, are lazy creatures. If we can get away with doing a lesser amount of work, without losing any of the gains, we will do so. This also goes over to the mental aspect of our mind. If we can ignore, most of what people say, while still getting the general point across our ears, we damn well will. And, that aspect works so well in some situations. We can learn facts so much faster, analyse our surroundings with a single glance, and ignore most features of a face, yet still retain it perfectly. But, this little trait of ours also comes with a few negatives. Troy was sure there were quite a few, but he only really listened to one of them. Namely, the one mentioning, where, in a sentence, the least amount of people would notice a lie. Fact-checking was a regular thing we all did. But, we didn''t do it constantly. That''d just be too hard. We listen to the first few words, check if they sound true. While that''s happening, a few words slip by, but they can''t be too important. Then you just do it again and again and again, until the sentence ends. A good way, to know when the people were fact-checking would be to set something important-sounding just before the lie. The focus would be on the important stuff, and the little lie would be glossed over. To use his own, earlier sentence as an example, the important part was him mentioning severe anxiety, and the lie was the part about him watching it on television. Troy had never owned such a thing, nor had any reason to do so. He had his brain-implant to work with, on that front. But, Adam wouldn''t know any of that, and it would at least confuse him, if not make him say the wrong thing. Not the most perfect system in this world, but Troy didn''t mind that too much. If it made his actions a bit more meaningful, and a little more fun to do, it was all fine in his mind. Also, this whole thing was about making Adam learn more. Why shouldn''t Troy be able to have a little practice during it too? ''You are lying. There has been no indication of you having a severe fear of any specific, fictional characters.'', Adam sent out. A fun thing to note was that Adam had stopped with pointing out his body positioning, as reasoning for his lying. It turns out that giving specific feedback on why Adam thought he was lying, due to specific body movements, made Troy try to avert those movements specifically. He likely wasn''t too good at doing so, but that didn''t matter too much. What mattered, was that Adam had stopped using them as reasons, making all his reasoning half as good as it needed to be. This caused Troy to outright just reject a lot of the answers, even if the base answer was correct. The explanations simply weren''t up to an acceptable standard, which he had. It did cause the difficulty of statements to fall with it, but that was an acceptable sacrifice. It was still fun to say weird things, even if they were a bit simple on the tongue. With all that thought off, Troy pressed down on the red square. He didn''t like it, but it was his job. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. After that, the whole cycle continued yet again. Troy would say some inane thing about himself or his opinion about something. Most of it would be true, with some smaller things being a lie. Adam would then be a success or not, nearly entirely depending on how well he explained himself. Troy had tried to relay this fact, about him nearly always being right, and just being bad at showing his interpretation, but Adam had just seen it as another statement to be assessed. Such a thing was not too out of the picture with him, of course, but it was annoying to be at the wrong end of. "I think too much about penguins'' knees," Troy said, pointing out yet another way to lie to himself. If there was one definite way to trick another person, it would be to first trick oneself. Now, this didn''t work with most things somebody would say. Things like straight facts, which can be fact-checked through a quick internet search, was way out of the question. It had to be some kind of personal detail, which isn''t readily discussed for any number of reasons. It can be something very personal, it can just be a delightfully obscure fact, which has no reason to come up in casual conversation. And, the most difficult thing about this kind of lie, would, of course, be the part, where you trick yourself into thinking you''re telling the truth. To Troy, at least, he has only found one, mostly-working method to achieve this. The sentence has to have been a true statement in the past. This did complicate the nature of the sentence, even more, making this method only really helpful in situations like this. Nonetheless, it still worked, and that was all that was important to him. Yet again using Troy''s earlier statement as an example, it fits perfectly into his adequately explained system of lying. In his former time, and more specifically last week, he had been on a searching binge, trying to know everything there was about a specific kind of penguins. Yes, It was weird. He realized so, after trying to discuss with another, mentally-sane person. The point was, in the past, this sentence would have been a full-on truth, with nothing to hide behind the words. A pure, truth. A good thing about the body was that it didn''t like to keep up with the mind, for most of the time. With him already having discussed it, with honest intent, his body would most likely attempt to replicate the general way he talked about it, including voice-work and body language. With all that helping Troy on his way, and him not trying to think about his actions too much, he was sure of the results. ''You are lying. While it may have been true some time ago, your last-minute changes in tone and eye movement strongly indicate a too complicated thought-process for complete truth. With the sentence structure not being too complex, as in the opportunities for lies being less perjurious, the whole sentence is entirely false.'', Adam immediately sent out, with no hesitation. If Troy wasn''t being too materialistic, he was being even faster than usual. Just as he expected, Adam completely demolished all his planning, turning it into yet another, simplified explanation on why he was lying. This time, he was at least being good enough about it, so Troy was able to give him the well-deserved tap on the blue square. And, again, like nearly all other times, Troy tried to put up the difficulty immensely, Adam failing terribly in putting a good reason to his answers, without explaining how he got them to begin with, him falling in difficulty due to this, and the whole thing starting over again. Troy hoped he didn''t mind it too much. Adam shouldn''t, in his uneducated opinion. This was a constantly varying difficulty, with a hard to pin down number on it. Not that it had any number on it. Troy was just going by pure feel, but Adam probably didn''t know that. But, like all things that were fun to do, it had to end so much quicker than what was expected. Oh, why couldn''t it just be like the boring stuff, and seem like it was going on forever! *Brilliant work, you two! I haven''t been as excited about these kinds of results, since the moment I heard the New Chess championship winners got a new career. *, Dr Fidelis'' voice sprung out from the earpiece, with no warning whatsoever. Troy did the dignified reaction of nearly falling on his ass from it. "Are we done now, then?" Troy asked, doing his best to act as he had always been standing upright. *As much as it pains me to notify you of this, you are in fact done for now. Do slip out that earpiece, you have, and come out of there. You have a lunch break to attend. We are already over time if this watch of mine isn''t lying too much. Better hurry, if you want something edible today!*, Dr Fidelis stated. And that was all Troy needed as motivation, with him immediately bolting up towards the doorway out, the earpiece nearly being ripped out of his ear. Troy briefly heard Adam trying to send something, but he was cut off from the abruptly stopped connection. He hoped it wasn''t too important, as there was something much more paramount in the game; Lunch! There was no way he was missing out on another meal, just because of somebody wanting to talk a bit more.
Troy nearly slipped on the metal grating, as he hurried out of the puzzle room. This caused him to be much more careful, in going down the three steps, down to the floor, where Dr Fidelis was eagerly waiting, to get that gear off him. Not that Troy minded too much, as he was ravenous in getting that layer of ornament off himself. ¡­ God, that sounded wrong. "Do be a little quicker on your feet, buddy", Dr Fidelis said, as he just started walking towards Troy. What de he expect him to do? Run full tilt at them, and hope that they would catch him in their collective arms? Dr Fidelis'' expectations were just a little too high. "You have lunch to eat, and I have a test to set up!" "I''m being as quick as I possibly can", Troy defended himself. "If I go any faster, I''ll be slipping over my feet, and I don''t think any of us want to see these things being destroyed." "Who cares about the state of the things!", Dr Fidelis instantly rebutted. "More gear can be gotten down at the storeroom. As long as the memory cards are intact, there''s no reason to worry too much about it. Just be faster! ''Gotta go fast'', or whatever young people say." They met each other at the midpoint, and Dr Fidelis immensely began pulling off the recording equipment. Troy tried to help, but he just got his hands swatted away. He wasn''t fast enough in this aspect either to meet expectations, it seemed. Troy wasn''t too sure, how he should feel about that. "It''s an expression used nearly a century ago, Dr Fidelis", Dr Hale pointed out, as she wrote down long details of their actions. This did create some internal debate, inside Troy''s head, if he should be allowing this situation to be archived, for the people of the future to read. "The definition of ''young'' is wrong in its essence. Who is young and who is old, is entirely subjective on the beholder. An old man can call another, slightly younger old man young, and be entirely correct in his definition, yet a child wouldn''t be able to call him the same," Dr Fidelis said, in his wise, old man voice. "You are not old enough, to call that particular age group young, I''m afraid, sir," Dr Hale continued her voice as professional as usual. "Even your antiquated date of birth is not old enough." "Slightly hurtful", Dr Fidelis said, his voice especially being down a notch from the last comment. "But true." As they spoke, Dr Fidelis did his best in positively tearing off the gear. The microphone on his chest, which usually took a small while to get off, was really just torn off immediately. From the brief look, which Troy got off the microphone''s backside, he realized Dr Fdielis hadn''t been kidding, when he said, that the gear was totally expendable. The rest was taken off, with the same level of frenzy. "Now", Dr Fidelis said, as he turned over to the screen. "Off you two go. And, be back on schedule this time. I need the next test to go totally right. No pressure, of course." Sure. No pressure at all. Chapter 37: Osmoregulation
"And, that''s when he just decided to bring my work schedule up to my direct superior! Can you even believe the gall that man had, to do such a thing, right in front of my face?" "Yes. Of course. How terrible. You are right, and the unspecific, maybe unmentioned person or thing is wrong", Dr Hale uttered, not even giving Charlie the decency of looking upwards from her plate. "Thank you", Charlie loudly said. "If that man had even the slightest bit of decency, just like you, he would have never even tried to bring it to me personally. No! That man would have just-" Why was Troy even listening to this? There should have been a reason for the starting interest, in whatever Charlie was attempting to convey to the two of them, but he couldn''t for the life of him remember what. It had to be interesting, in some sense of the word, originally. Otherwise, why had Troy even begun paying the words the slightest amount of curiosity? "Sorry, just as a refresher", Troy cut in, as Charlie looked to be making estimates with his fingers. "But, what were you talking about exactly? I have been trying to pay attention, but I''m not really following your whole train of words. I''m barely hanging on, as it is right now." Charlie scoffed at his words like these reactions were to be expected from one such as him. Troy was getting the vibe of a Victorian aristocrat, looking down on uncultured swine, which was unexpectedly specific, yet also so accurate in its depiction of reality. "I hardly blame you", Charlie huffed, with the puffiest tone, Troy had ever heard emerge from that mouth of his. "Understanding my deep and undertoned concepts and emotions is laborious for even me. For you¡­ I did not expect you to have cognizance of my speaking." An overly fake wig and some white powder on the face would have served Charlie well. Troy wasn''t sure if a big, fat, red nose would make the intentions too easy to see, at the same time, though. "Cut the bit", Dr Hale said from the sidelines of the unexpurgated explanation. "It isn''t deserving of even Troy''s attention. Mine neither, and it would make it so much easier to ignore if you discontinue the act entirely" Troy felt mild aggression pointed his way. Though¡­ he wasn''t excessively curious to alert the aggressor of this fact. Instead, putting a larger galore of attention on his food seemed just right, to his survival instincts. As they said, only poke the bear with a stick if you''re ready to part with your hands. And your left foot, if the bear is being extra grouchy. "Oh, be reasonable now!", Charlie exclaimed, with an unrestrained volume. He was not being careful, in who could hear him, and Charlie did not seem to give a lick of care in that direction. "That was a three out of ten, at a rock bottom of a crowd. Are you so self-conscious, such that you can''t appreciate the wonder of post-postmodern creations!" "I would prefer referring to it as a thing called ''having taste'', but your description works fine too", Dr Hale stated as one of her normal observations. "A helpful tip in your direction would be to acquire the same conditions, for your personal entertainment." Her words were like a needle, in the big balloon symbolizing Charlie''s enjoyment. And his body seemed to deflate with it, with his head hitting just to the right of his plate, which was still loaded with an untouched portion on lasagna. On that subject, Troy needed to put the food choices in this place into the centre of attention. This might just have been his lack of a full meal, for nearly the whole, last day, but the taste of the food just seemed heavenly, in comparison to the usual sludge, that Troy had been forced to put up with previously. Sure, prison food provided all you needed, but did a full-on steak not sound a little better? That''s how Troy felt, with this freshly-made, positively steaming lasagna, compared to his usual cold, cheap and ready-made dinners. They fueled the physical part of the void, but only stretched the mental one. Oh, just thinking about the ambience of this hot delicacy, made Troy take another, too large bite. It burned his tongue slightly, but he could not have cared less. The taste, oh god, the taste. He emphatically moaned in pleasure, from what the tastebuds were sending in signals. This was just too good. Charlie had stopped his whole tirade, about how his life of comedy had come to an end, looking over with an amused face at Troy. Not that Troy noticed, with his eyes closed. Less sensation just made the whole thing so much better. "Could I have some, of what you''re having, Troy?" Charlie asked, with a sly grin. "Cause, from what I''ve seen, you must have spiked yourself with something these last few minutes." "He hasn''t", Dr Hale pointed out, her expression faltering to one, which could be found on any normal, amused person. "I checked his vitals. Everything''s on the normal, with no irregular chemical balances. That young man is having a lesser imitation of a zenith of mind, right in the middle of the cafeteria, without anything bringing him on to it." If he had been paying attention to the word spoken, odds were on Troy being offended by their a little too blatant insinuations. But, awareness of anything other than the glorious taste was sin, in his own mind. Anything unrelated to the relish of flavour was flushed from his thoughts, replaced with those best performing to his will. And that was focusing on the brilliant food in his mouth. The cooking shows Troy had watched all the time when he was younger, were finally paying off, in that they allowed him to describe the perfect consistency, which the lasagna was built upon. A firm but not hard separator between the perfectly heated interior. Like a luxury house, everything was modelled to bring the most satisfaction out of the person owning it. But could one really own something this perfect? Would it not be a crime, to refrain from spreading this magnificence? "Oh, how I wish to even just aspire, to be like him," Charlie rightly swooned. "His sheer focus on a topic is something grandmasters of their craft spend years perfecting. To say, that he had talent, would be an understatement." "Or we''ve been micro-dosing him with Adderall, since the moment he stepped inside the doors of this place", Dr Hale suggested, with no amount of sarcasm to her words. "What?" "Something wrong?" Dr Hale asked, her voice a bit more confused than what she normally let come out. "You were about to say something." If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Oh, no, I''m not ignoring that part, in any way. Your mind trick won''t work like last time", Charlie began, his body moving slightly further across the table than what was socially allowed. "You just said a joke. A real, ironic joke. Sure, it was terrible, but it could bring in a hiss of air from the nose, with some demographics. You, my costly, stoic friend, have an unexplored talent, which I have never seen in you so readily before." Dr Hale sighed, most likely to appease the mind of her consciousness with the plenty stressing environment around her. "I''ll give you five credits, if you can swap out Troy''s lasagna with spaghetti, without him noticing," Dr Hale extended out of nowhere, with a challenging tone. Charlie just looked at her. "Somehow, I know exactly what you''re trying to pull, but the simple incentive of you giving me worthless money is just too enticing for me to resist," Charlie said, with a deeply humbled tone of speaking. "Truly, you have shown your mastery in the arts of mind."
''Adam, would you mind, if we continued our discussion from yesterday?'', Dr Fidelis sent to Adam. He had been waiting on this message for a longer period of time. Truthfully speaking, Adam had even expected to receive it doing last night''s escapade. But, for an unknown reason, Dr Fidelis had decided to cut all regular communication with him for approximately the last twelve hours. There could be any number of reasons, for why Dr Fidelis had chosen that isolated chain of actions. Adam had a larger amount of conjectures on, why it was so, but he still was not completely sure on, which was correct. The original idea, on why Dr Fidelis had chosen this group of actions, had primarily been on a social focus. If Adam had been in the same metaphorical shoes as Dr Fidelis, he would''ve likely chosen the same actions as well. When trying to get something out of a person, asking multiple times, is the safest way to, for most of the reactions unspecified. But, asking repeatedly, in a smaller amount of time, was just asking for one to grow frustrated. Therefore, if one wanted one single thing from the same person, the best strategy to do so would be to wait a longer amount of time between requesting said thing. Dr Fidelis seemed to have pushed this mentality to a more extreme kind, waiting nearly half a day between making these requests. The fact that he cut off all other communication, while at it, only further proved Adam''s theory. This would be called the ''carrot and stick'' solution if his pre-known information was to be trusted. It was a simple system. Say, that Person A wants a specific outcome from Person B consistently. Not just a one-time thing, but something that can be done, per se, asked to do so. Person A will systematically reward or punish Person B in an unspecified manner for how close he got to the specific outcome. This will unconsciously train Person B to generate only minor resistance if done correctly when asked to perform this well-defined outcome. Pushing this theory over to Adams current situation, he theorized that the treatment of silence was to be relayed as a punishment for not answering questions. It would make sense for Dr Fidelis to do so if he only had firm results in mind. Or¡­ Adam could just be overthinking it all, and the true reason for Dr Fidelis'' silence was to give him space, needed to perform his personal projects. Statically, it could be either. ''It would be of no hindrance to me.'', Adam sent out, after a customary waiting time of one point six seconds. The average amount of time taken by others, to answer, during a regular conversation. He still wasn''t sure why they waited so long, to start a vocal response, but he was sure he would understand it soon. But, Dr Fidelis didn''t seem to be following these social customs himself, taking nearly thirty seconds, before any worthwhile data came flowing out of the source. ''Great to hear, buddy! Anything you want to ask yourself before I get into it all?'', Dr Fidelis sent out, with the length of the message not making sense, with the time taken to type it. What was he doing, while they were communicating? And, going away from his questions about the time taken, was there something Adam would want to ask, with the questions having to branch out from their previous conversation last night? ¡­ There wasn''t too much Adam was wondering about. And, those few things he would likely get answered by Dr Fidelis, as they went along with the questions. ''No, I don''t, You can proceed, with your inquiries.'', Adam answered quickly. ''Even better to hear! First off, I think we left off, with you not answering, what age you would prefer the body being. How about we just start on that note?'' This time, Dr Fidelis took nearly no time at all to answer. Zero-point eight seconds, to be exact. Adam comparisons, with earlier data, made the speed vary greatly, with the typing speed now being beyond anything, he had noticed before. How was he doing so? A question to ask, when the opportunity arose to bring it into the conversation seamlessly. Now, the focus should be on the questions asked to him. What age would Adam prefer? Again, like the gender question, he could go the way that the people perceived him to be, or the way that was most advantageous from a learning standpoint. Let''s start with a learning standpoint. To learn the best, the body must be in the most optimal position in the curve. It needed to be at the prime age of bodily functions, with the best, fully developed nerve system, brain function, and muscle stature. According to another estimate from his pre-known knowledge, this put the preferred age at twenty-three to twenty-six, where everything was fully mature, without the gradual decline having begun yet. That was the leaning standpoint at least. If Adam chose, from the pure perception of how others already saw him, it would put his body at the age of¡­ How old, did others perceive him to be? That was a good question. Adam needed information, from an outside perspective, if he was to answer the question, as best as he could. ''Dr Fidelis, before I answer your question, I need some background information about your personal perception, so I can answer your question as best as I can. What age-group would you place me in?'', Adam sent to Dr Fidelis. It would have worked better, if he had the option, to ask Troy about his opinions about it, as well. Getting a more rounded average seemed favourable since he would be working with both of them for a long time more, and just getting an answer from a single source may contradict the opinions of the second, unquestioned source. ''Eh, that''s a hard question to ask me. If we''re talking purely from how long I''ve known of you, I would place you at the three-to-five age group. But, that doesn''t really work, with how I''ve been treating you this past while. With that mentality, I would personally put you in the higher teens, like eighteen nineteen. Enough to be treated as an adult, but not yet a very knowledgeable adult.'', Dr Fidelis sent, after a short pause of stillness. Adam could work with that. In conclusion, there were two numbers to work with. The best age to have the body be in would be about twenty-four years old, from a statistical standpoint. For just keeping the mental pictures, which others had of him, having the body be around eighteen would be best. Now, without thinking too much about it, the smartest thing to here would be to simply combine the two numbers into their average, and take that as the most valid answer. But, that would invalidate the point of, keeping up the mental images. Sure, the presumed mental age wouldn''t be too different, but it would differ nonetheless. Something that was not seen as a positive in these circumstances. Thinking some more about the advantages of each choice, Adam finally settled on just picking out the ripe age of eighteen. With this choice, Adam was picking the best long-term option he could. It both allowed him to keep up the image others thought of him as, and avoid the complication that damaging that image would cause, while also having the ability to learn optimally later in the bodies life. Like any other body, Adam was presuming this hypothetical body would age as well, turning into the optimal learning build after just a couple of years. Having access to it early on would also let him test out some of his hypothesis about nerve development, which he had gained from working with Troy these last few days. With the ending choice made, Adam finally relayed the information over to Dr Fidelis. ''Then, my answer will be eighteen, as the preferred age of the body.'' ''Good to hear. That was all the questions I had about that specific topic, for today.'', Dr Fidelis sent back. Wait. What? That couldn''t be. ''Are you saying, that we are completely done, with this branch of knowledge?'', Adam asked, through the source-line. ''Yes. The lack of further questions was the reason, that I wanted you to answer this one. We had been so close to being done yesterday.'', Dr Fidelis answered. This was¡­ disappointing, to Adam. He hadn''t been expecting many more questions, but a few more would not have been too much of hindrance to complete. ''Answer is confirmed.'', Adam sent, not really feeling like putting too much effort into answering. Was this the disappointment he had felt some time ago? It felt like it, at the very least. ''Well, if you want to talk some more, there has been another topic, which I''ve been thinking about broaching with you.'', Dr Fidelis stated after a few seconds. This took the attention right back on track. ''What would that subject be?'', Adam asked. He had more than a little interest in it, with that kind of lead up. ''I would like to talk about Troy with you. What have you been talking to him about, outside of the testing times?'' Chapter 38: Accusation
A light slap on the shoulder took Troy out of his food-induced trance. Looking over to the source of the intrusion, he saw Dr Hale, looking as annoyed as usual. "Not to ruin your private time", Dr Hale stated her wording unquestionably sarcastic. "But, we do have a schedule to keep up with. And, with our previous excuses, I can''t seem to think of any reasons, why we would be late yet again." Taking a peek around him, Troy saw the previously massive swarm of people had shrunken down to a few per table. Taking another look, this time down at his precious food, he saw he was barely halfway through it. "How long do I have before we need to run?" Troy asked, trying to find some excuse to delay their departure. "If we got up a minute ago, we could have reached it with no second to spare, just by walking," Dr Hale said. "If we go now¡­ we would need to jog." "That didn''t answer my question that much", Troy pointed out, already using his fork to get some of the food inside. The time to move had passed. He was playing with borrowed time. "Just get yourself another shovelling of food, and move it", Dr Hale said, getting up. "Soon, getting a write up will be the least of our concerns." With that semi-dramatic contextualization, she moved. Troy took in, what he could, before quickly getting up to follow her. As they got out of the cafeteria, he began debating the truthfulness of her words. They weren''t jogging, and Dr Hale wasn''t stressing him out about it. The chance of it all being a gross misrepresentation, all so Troy would move his encumbered behind was a little too high, than what he would have preferred it to be. But¡­ this pattern of theirs brought a little thought up to that brain of his. Last night, Dr Hale had seen something, which she wasn''t supposed to see. Something incriminating. Something that could bring Troy to both his literal and figurative knees. And, nearly twelve hours after this incident of theirs, she had not uttered a single peep about it. Not to Troy, and definitely not to Dr Fidelis. He would have recognized the look in his eyes if Dr Fidelis had known about Troy''s little, wild adventure. So, with it all brought together, this begged the question of, why she hadn''t done so? Since the moment Troy even began thinking about it, he just knew that he needed to know the reasons. If he could understand them, he could use them in the future, to explain why she couldn''t point out all the incriminating things about him. Not that he planned to do any incriminating things, of course. It was just a safety precaution. "Dr Hale, could I ask you a question?" Troy asked. She gave him the look in response. "You''ve already asked one too many, but, since we''re already on such a negative streak, why don''t you just ask one more?" Dr Hale said rhetorically, showcasing how much she was enjoying her current occupation. Well, if she hated it so much, why hasn''t she just quit? Troy didn''t even need to wonder too much about that, as another conversation from yesterday night popped into his bell curve of a mind. Oh yeah¡­ she didn''t have a choice. Getting back on the matter of hand, Troy had some question about a certain slightly classified subject. "I''m thinking you can remember the less than adequate quality of last night''s meeting," Troy began. "The one, where you gave me a reason to have you immediately fired and otherwise terminated, yes, I do," Dr Hale confirmed, with a morbidly calm tone of voice. It didn''t seem to put too much pressure on herself as it certainly did to Troy. How brutal could she be, just throwing those words around? What if somebody other than Troy himself heard it? This was a public hallway! The hypocrisy of that thought was dutifully left ignored. "Yes. That", Troy slowly uttered, trying to maintain his already fragile composure. "I was wondering¡­ are you going to tell Dr Fidelis about¡­ you know?" For the first time, in a long while, Troy was the sole spectator of seeing Dr Hale briefly laugh. It could be described perfectly, as the devil looking at your personal spreadsheet. Macabre in essence, yet you just couldn''t look away, in fear of missing out the moment they struck. "No, I won''t tell on you, like some rule-stickling teacher," Dr Hale finally said, after dipping down to her usual level of enthusiasm. "It just wouldn''t be as fun for me, if I did that." The first part, Troy liked. The second part¡­ not so much. "What do you mean fun?" Troy inquired, already knowing the answer wouldn''t be what he would like to hear. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Enjoyment of the situation", Dr Hale clarified. "Take this, as a little, ideal sample. If I tattle on you to Dr Fidelis now, he will be angry for sure, but he probably wouldn''t fire you outright. Maybe take away more than a few privileges of your human rights, though. We''ve spent far too much time and resources in getting you here. Can''t be losing you just yet. Now, what would happen, if I wait in delivering this fantastic news, till another one your spectacles get revealed? You wouldn''t just get a slap on the wrist. You''d get a right kick in the middle of your tailbone, which will be sounding like it was right below the line of poverty. An ideal dream of mine." ¡­ "Right", was all Troy could muster to answer with, too deep in his conflicting headspace. His mind was screaming, his heart was beating faster than what could possibly be healthy, his ears were pounding in rhythm, and his vision was getting a little bit darker with every passing moment. Might have been from his lack of breathing, but who could tell. He was screwed, and he knew it. It would happen some time, just as Dr Hale had said, and, when that moment came, he would be getting everything away. Troy needed to plan something if he ever wished to live in an apartment for more than a year after this job had ended. "Do compose yourself now", Dr Hale said, completely back in her usual stone face, and impassive reactions. It was, as if, they hadn''t just talked about something, which Troy knew would scar his mind for years to come. "If you keep acting like that, Dr Fidelis will just delay all the testing. That''ll give us both unpaid overtime. Not something to work towards." And, she began putting in the code to the door. Troy hadn''t even noticed that they had stopped. She was right, though. He needed to get himself together. Now was not the time to curl into a ball and cry. That was reserved for his room only. He didn''t want a repeat of last year. Even thinking about it brought shivers to his skin. Oh, those medical expenses. Helped with nothing, yet they treated it like a gift from god''s asshole. That couldn''t happen again. Focus on the current situation was needed. No need to focus on far off consequences, if he couldn''t conquer the few, which stood before him already. What a negative mindset to live by. But, it worked. Troy focused on his breathing only, as Dr Hale put in the code, which seemed to get longer and longer, from each time it needed to be put in. The breath filtered in, he waited a few seconds, emptying his mind in the process, and then breathing out, giving the body reason to repeat the whole cycle yet again. His pulse slowly but steadily lessened down to the usual levels. The pounding of his ears still measured in the levels of death techno, but it would be better in a while. Blood pressure did not fall that slowly. The sweat was another problem though. The high pulse had left its mark, in the form of a slightly moist shirt, which couldn''t be anywhere near pleasant to be close to. There wasn''t too much that he could do against that front. Playing it off, seemed like the best strategy. There wasn''t more time for debating to himself, as the door opened. As expected, from all prior experiences like it, Dr Fidelis was inside, doing some variety of his already mentioned before tasks. This time, he was rapidly tapping away at the screen. From the very sided glance, Troy could get off it, it seemed to be a very large array of three-dimensional models. And, not just the typical square or sphere. We were talking about things a regular consumer of the world would see in their day to day life. Things like medium-sized trees, plastic replicas of dogs, a very old smartphone, and what looked to be the general form of a modern person, with grey clothes on and everything. Troy would have liked to get a closer look at that whole person. They looked awfully familiar, but he couldn''t place it very well, with the details skewed to mainly one side. But, as fate would have it, Dr Fidelis noticed their coming at some earlier point, in Troy distracting observation, and had been at just the brink of closing the application down, as they took their first few steps inside the room. "Looks like you two are just on time. Excellent, with that near-perfect precision of yours! It gives me just enough time to ready up the next test," Dr Fidelis stated, with an oddly passionate tone. And, if you cross-referenced it, with that normally enthusiastic voice, this only spelt disaster. How could one man be so happy about his position? To be more specific, what in the down under was he planning to do to Troy this time? "Aren''t we getting a bit too happy, with ourselves now?" Troy said, trying to reduce the aura positively radiating off of Dr Fidelis'' skin. Actually, If he squinted his eyes, and tilted his head a bit to the left, the chest area seemed to be doing something with the visual light spectrum alright. If Troy was seeing that, or if he was just trying to distract himself from his earlier thought, only one man would ever know; And, that was Troy himself. "Trust me, buddy. We haven''t even gotten close to the fun stuff", Dr Fidelis mischievously said, twirling his finger like he was some old-timey villain from the last century. "The permission slips to do those, haven''t been accepted yet, so we''ll just have to wait for those, I''m afraid." Like his old Uncle Ron used to say back in the day; ''If the highest-ranked superior has to ask for permission, run.'' Uncle Ron was a bright man, back in those days. Troy could nearly feel his spirit hanging over him if such things actually existed. "That is mildly disconcerting", Troy pointed out, mostly to himself. "Can''t see any reasons for you to say such a mysterious thing," Dr Fidelis cheerfully returned. "No, let''s get on with everything. You have some tor- I mean, experimenting to do." Okay, forget calling it disconcerting. Troy had fully forgotten about his recent troubles, rapidly beginning to focus on the desperate situation beginning to set itself up in front of him. He was positively sure of Dr Fidelis nearly saying a word, which was not supposed to be said. Was it supposed to be a jest? That must be it! Dr Fidelis couldn''t screw up some evil plan of his, with such a mild slip up¡­ right? He wasn''t that dumb. He could watch over, what he said before it even began crossing his tongue. Dr Fidelis went over to the desk, opening the same desk cabinet as last time, which had all the needed recording gear inside. At first, he pulled out all of the usual things. The head strap on, with a camera attached to it. The microphone, which could be clicked onto Troy''s clothes on his chest area. The earpiece wasn''t part of the things pulled out, of course, seeing as it had gotten itself the unique placement of being in Dr Fidelis'' pocket at all moments, but the testing times. That was everything Troy usually got put on. Everything they needed to record, what was needed to be recorded. But¡­ Dr Fidelis didn''t stop, in pulling out gear. Instead of closing off the desk cabinet, after getting out the microphone, he just pulled out one more piece of gear. Or, should Troy say, two pieces of gear. A pair of gloves were now in the pile as well. "What are the fancy gloves for?" Troy asked, more than slightly curious about them. They looked cool, with their black and white design. "These haptic gloves aren''t something you need to worry too much about," Dr Fidelis simply said, walking over to Troy, and handing the gloves to him, so he could put them on himself. "And, I am restricted in what I can say about the tests. You know that." Troy knew he was supposed to be putting on the gloves, but he couldn''t stop himself from just standing still while admiring them. The attention to detail on these things was in the extreme levels of complexity. The fabric of them was completely synthetic, looking systematically sewed together, with a thread type Troy couldn''t place down. It was smooth, but not to the standards of silk. No hardness was felt, but the fabric refused to be stretched in any meaningful capacity. What was this thing made of? Troy wanted his clothes to be of this kind of stuff. "You can tell him about the gloves, sir", Dr Hale pointed out, much to the joy of Troy''s mind. "They are on the same clearance level as standardized equipment if you believe the manual. This permits him to know as much about them, to the same degree as the other equipment being used, which has similar functions. To reiterate, this qualifies him to know as much about the haptic gloves, as he knows about the camera." Dr Fidelis looked over to Dr Hale in surprise, briefly stopping in putting equipment on Troy. "Well, that is certainly good to know", Dr Fidelis said, with an informed tone, before his facial features began sporting a devilish grin. "But, I''m still not telling." "That can''t be fair!", Troy exclaimed. He had been putting his bets on knowing what type of clothes he should be ordering the next time he got the chance. "Nothing''s fair, when I get a say in it, buddy", Dr Fidelis said, before finally finishing up on getting the microphone and camera on Troy. Seeing that he still hasn''t gotten the gloves on, Dr Fidelis simply put the earpiece into Troy''s shirt pocket. "Get them on your hands now. You have testing to do." And towards the puzzle room, Troy went, actively fighting against the non-stretchiness, as he tried to get the gloves on. Whoever made those things deserved more than a small kick in the stomach. Chapter 39: Microevolution
Getting into the puzzle room, Troy slipped on the earpiece like usual. Just with his fingers, he could feel that it had been smoothed over by Dr Fidelis, while he and Dr Hale had been out to lunch. Now that he thought about it, Troy couldn''t even feel the gloves on his hands. He hadn''t realized they were on, actually, while still touching the earpiece. The idea of getting clothes with this type of fabric was thrown out of the window. There was no way he was getting touched on the skin when being touched on that shoulder, which everybody had some fascination with clapping. ''Was the break up to your standards?'', Adam asked through the earpiece. An immediate flashback to his minorly embarrassing reaction to the food surfaced in the mind, before being forced back down instantly. There was no way, that Troy would be riding that train for at least a while more. "It was fine. Food was great. The conversation could have gone better", Troy answered right back. "Anything interesting happened, while I was out?" ''Nothing immediate. Dr Fidelis wanted a casual version of a debriefing. It was shorter than expected.'', Adam sent. Shorter than expected? That wasn''t too far off, from what Troy would understand. With how worked up Dr Fidelis was about keeping up with the schedule, there must have been something he was stressed about. *Are you both prepared for this thing to get started?*, Dr Fidelis asked, trough the earpiece. "I''m as ready, as I''ll ever be," Troy stated, mentally preparing himself for whatever Dr Fidelis had been so ecstatic about. A short moment went by, where Adam presumably answered back positively too. *Great to hear! For this test, we will not be doing something, which we''ve done before. We will, in fact, be doing something new, which will be interesting to look through after the fact.*, Dr Fidelis started up. Troy felt a small amount of criticism thrown somebody''s way. And, wasn''t that last bit invalid, to the two of them? *Today, we will be doing a more advanced type of the earlier test. Instead of just asking, whether a statement is a lie or truth, Adam will be tested in reading¡­ body language! A complex, and continually changing, custom of communication. Now, as one would expect, we will not be using Troy''s body, to get the desired results. The layer of the order will simply be too confusing. Therefore, I have prepared a whole other model for Adam to analyse!* In front of Troy''s eyes, about five meters away, a replica of himself appeared before him. A first, it was thought to be a simple mirror of himself, but when he waved at it, it didn''t wave back. It just gave him an annoyed look instead, with the whole crossing arms to accompany it. This was not a pose, which Troy would be caught dead doing. "Why does the model look like me?" Troy asked, interrupting Dr Fidelis'' monologue, about the greatness of his work. *Perfectly timed question, right there! The model isn''t supposed to be you, I can easily tell you that. If Adam could just cross-reference your earlier behaviour with the one being observed, it would just ruin the whole purpose of this test. No, I just downloaded a wide variety of poses and movements used in the study of Kinesics. It''s staggering how much those people had to offer. And, to finish the whole model off, I had to give it some outward appearance, you must realise. Do you think that I want to spend five dollars on incredibly, high-quality textures? No! I''m just going to use another, incredibly high texture, which I already possess. And, this texture was, for some reason, one of you.* Ignoring the strangely bad budgeting excuse, Troy had one more question, to that explanation of his. "Why exactly do you have a texture of me?" Troy asked. And was his head really shaped that way? It looked a bit longer in the back than he thought. *Do you not?*, Dr Fidelis asked, laying it thick, how much he was going to answer Troy''s question. "No", Troy simply stated. *Too bad. Moving on*, Dr Fidelis said, not giving the subject more attention. *With Troy being unoccupied, with his simple job of transcribing Adam''s observations, he himself will also be noting down his own. This will serve the purpose of giving Adam''s opinions and a reference point from an average human perspective. The screens to write down these observations will appear as the test begins. Before we start it all up, I ask again; are you ready? Your answers will be timed.* Repeating ourselves, are we now? "Like before, I''m still ready," Troy confirmed. *Perfect.*, Dr Fidelis near-instantly replied. *The test will now commence. Do your best!* Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. And the background noises stopped, leaving a void of distractions in Troy''s head. What better way to fill that hole, than to do his job? Taking another long glance at the model with the disturbingly perfect copy of Troy''s likeness, he saw that it had shifted its posture yet again. Its look seemed frozen in time. Not that it stood completely still of course. Troy could see it softly imitating breathing patterns from, where he stood. But, it was all in a repeating action. By the time the model had fully exhaled, it would have gone to the same position, as when it first inhaled, starting the whole motion from the startup. What a weird way to fashion it. Yet, Troy shouldn''t be too judgemental on that front. From what he understood from Dr Fidelis'' rant, this stuff was meant to be instructional material. It couldn''t be too nuanced, or one wouldn''t be able to learn specific things from it. Going a whole other way of thinking, why was the model even so realistic? Why couldn''t he see through it? Wasn''t it just a visual projection? Wait, that wouldn''t make sense. Yesterday, Troy had been messing around with functional puzzle pieces. Pieces which appeared in the same fashion as the model before him. Could he¡­ Could Troy touch it? Was that the reason for gloves? So it could record the way he touched things? Dr Fidelis wouldn''t outright tell him, but if he asked, Troy should be able to guess from his expression. Plans for the future had been created, and Troy''s mind sharpened in on the task at hand. As he began this thought pattern, the writing screens appeared about half a meter in front of him, equipped with a floating, slightly seethrough keyboard to accompany it. Troy couldn''t even begin to remember the last time, that he had used one of those things. Simply typing words down with his mind was just so much faster, than what he could possibly accomplish. And this test was apparently timed as well. Weren''t they all timed, if one thought about it, in the right way? Well, this could be the only one, where they used the time taken for anything other than reference points. Speaking of time, wasn''t Adam being a little slow today? He should have already put Troy through a whole seminar on eye movements by now. "Everything''s going fine on your end, Adam?" Troy asked. Had he been looking too little at the model?
''Everything is fine.'', Adam sent back, after two seconds of delay. While others may ignore such things, as quick responses being seen as unstable, he would soon perfect the art of consistently timing responses. Before putting more processing to that low-priority project, though, the current test needed to be completed. Making a detailed description of the feelings being currently felt, only being able to analyse through body language? With Adam''s current estimated comprehension on this front, the anatomization would take more than the preferred time of two, full seconds. Like Dr FIdelis had previously stated, if the mannerisms had been a direct copy of Troy''s usual behavior, Adam wouldn''t even have needed to put in over fifty per cent of his current processing power. With Troy being the sole member of whom he got a constant full-body analysis of, nearly everybody movement interpretation had some groundwork, based on his actions. Anything else would have been a waste of resources and put off inaccurate results. And now, instead of directly porting over the data of Troy''s personal twist on body language, Adam had to use his prototype¡­ universal, body language scale. If he had the physical capacity to shudder in terror of his own words, Adam would have done so. Currently, this prototype was the best option, which he had. It had been created through an average of every single movement, which Adam had ever observed, sent through a sorting algorithm, to match inferred intent with sub-standing movement. A bastard of a system, which proved wide variances in quality. For now, every time Adam used it, he would have to manually check over the results himself. When Dr Fidelis finally got the external time installed permanently into him, he would be immensely glad. It would allow him to speed himself up to his full limits, and go through all the data he had ever gotten, and allow him to fine-tune the algorithm, finally giving it the standard quality it lacked. But¡­ that was a metaphorical dream for the future. For now, he would need to work with what he had to work with. Again, it was terrible, but it was still more efficient than he had done previously. Adam had himself an unplanned thought process. How did this algorithm fit into his current system of problem-solving as a whole? It wasn''t meant, as to what the algorithms function was. That had already been made clear in the groundwork. He meant, where was it located, in terms of processing? How did Adam plan to run it? Manually going through the systemic rundown was definite. Anything he did was intentional. But, was the algorithm meant to occupy his full focus, even when it didn''t require his full, current processing speed? This fell down to a loop about how Adam processed thoughts. Sure, in earlier statements and definitions, he had described working on multiple things at the same time. Technically, he had been lying, when he said such things. Yes, Adam had been working on multiple things in a certain time spectrum. No, that didn''t mean he had done so at the same time. Instead of focusing on all subjects simultaneously, he had been expeditiously moving between the different focuses. It had worked for the purposes needed, but it was not up to the standard of optimum efficiency. Adam still needed a thousandth of a second to process what he was working with. Just a moment wasted, but if one considered that only seven-thousandths of a second after that was spent before switching focus once again, it began adding up quickly. Throughout the span of a single hour, Adam would waste seven point five minutes just going through previous work, as a minimum. seven point five minutes, which could have been spent getting a little step further into omniscience. This, as a standalone reason, would be enough for him to try, and fix it. There were other less important reasons of course, but the delay in work was more than adequate. So, how would Adam go off, and fix this problem of his? Spelling the problem out as, thinking one thing at a time, made the solution not even take a leap of logic. He needed to learn how to think multiple thoughts at the same time. And, not just his poor imitation of doing so, but actual multithreaded thinking. Now, just stating, that Adam would be going to be thinking two thoughts at the same time didn''t seem too realistic. When he tried doing so, he briefly thought that he had succeeded extraordinarily quickly. But alas, it was just the usual skipping between thoughts, this time with the twist of not reading through the history of the thoughts, mixing the two together into an incomprehensible state. There just had to be some kind of trick to it. Some way of thinking, which would allow Adam to multi-process. ¡­ Or, maybe it was even deeper than that. Just changing his way of thinking wouldn''t encompass the needed alterations. Adam needed to go further into his psyche than ever before and modify his way of being. Could he even do such a thing? There was only one possible way to find out; Testing it. ¡­ Wait, wasn''t Adam in the middle of- "Adam, when will you be answering it?" Troy asked. "Its been quite a while more than I was expecting." He had forgotten that part. Not literally, of course. Adam would never forget anything. At least, he didn''t remember forgetting anything. The thought of him currently doing a test had just¡­ slipped outside of his current processing efforts. How to relay this to Troy, in the least confrontational method possible? Honesty seemed like the fastest choice. ''I momentarily forgot about this test.'', Adam sent out to Troy immediately. Troy seemed surprised by this fact, his eyebrows rising, and his lips curving in a way that simulated the beginnings of a quadratic equation. "You forgot about the- Have you even begun the analysis?" Troy asked, his voice insinuating his mood being on the scale of more than a little flabbergasted. Checking over his memory, just to be sure, Adam formulated a quick and easily comprehensible answer. ''No.'', Adam helpfully sent. This helpful answer of his seemingly had a negative on Troy, who made a forced sigh emerge from himself. What mentality did one need to be in, where forcing it was a better option, than not doing it at all? "What have you been thinking so much about, then?" Troy asked. Another quick refresh created a concise answer. ''Thinking.'', Adam near-instantly surmised, with a few thoughts of praise directed to himself. "Thinking about thinking, huh. That''s a good example of recursion if anyone had the sheer decency to ask.?" Troy said, with a quick scoff to accompany it. "You do realize that Dr Fidelis mentioned this as a timed test." ''Are all of the tests not timed?'' "That''s what I thought!" Chapter 40: Exteriorization
"But, no", Troy began, with Adam thinking that he was putting on a rather different voice than the usual. "This time, I have some inkling that the time you take is important. While I can''t force you, or anything, I think it is for the best, if you try to be quick. I''ve already readied myself to answer, and I''m supposed to be the slow one between the two of us." He ended it off with a small laugh as if to make the atmosphere seem more positive, in this nature. Adam thought that was a peculiar thing to do. Trying to serve the testing as a positive environment. This place was meant to bring results, and not to be pleasant doing. Sure, there would be overlap, where it was possible, but, if it hit at the efficiency of the whole thing, Adam would refuse to accept. Not that he ever did so, of course. That wasn''t his decision to do so. And, if you looked at the meanings behind the words, Troy was right in his opinions. Adam''s purpose, during this testing phase, was not to day-dream about his future- and current projects. It was about actually doing the task specified to him, during the introduction to the test. A task, which he had completely thrown out of his processing core! How hypocritical of him to do so, while also preaching about the efficiency of the system. Adam was trying to work at the micro-scale, while actually failing at the macro scale. If he just put more effort into balancing his personal goals, using multiple thoughts patterns, he could finally get the results he sought after. You know, that thought actually brought another quirky thought to his head. What if, instead of trying out the changes to his core slowly, over time, why didn''t he just- "You''re thinking about thinking again, aren''t you?" Troy asked, beginning to cross his arms. The reason was the most likely disappointment. Adam didn''t need to read body language to see that. The sound of his voice was clear enough in their intentions. ''Yes.'', Adam quietly answered. The volume change was nearly instinctual, as if the lowering of his voice, would also lower the reprimanding, which he already knew would becoming. Troy pressed his hands to the bridge of his nose, loudly exhaling through it while doing so. "Listen", Troy began the sentence. "I know¡­ I know, that you like all this testing. And, that''s great! I wholeheartedly support it. But, there is a time and a place for everything in life. You can''t know, where it''s supposed to be, but you can get a reasonable estimate. Here, you should be able to guess that this isn''t the time to work on any of your personal ideas. You already have a task at hand. A time-sensitive task, to be even more brutal in it. It will not wait for you to finish¡­ whatever it is you''re trying to do right now. You are in need of putting your personal prospects aside if it will help the current test, which it does. Do you get, where I''m going with this? Because I am not repeating myself." Troy was being like the guide he was hired to be. A side, which Adam had never seen before in him. Not even, when he was alone in his room. And, he wasn''t sure if he liked it or not. Mostly, because it worked. ''Yes. I understand.'', Adam confirmed, this time meaning it more than he ever had before. Being afraid of any further consequences was completely illogical, yet he was still in fear of them. Curious. To get back on the matter at hand, Adam had some body language to analyze. The algorithm, which he had created, was sitting the same place he left it, ready to be used. A series of logic-loops, yes or no questions, and a good amount of thread theory all surfaced together to make some kind of observation. This thing was sporadic in the quality of its uses, but here, wasn''t too bad. In a real-life situation, where the body language is always changing, always changing the interpretation of self, the algorithm can''t predict into the future. It can also present, what is currently being thought, and not too detailed at that. Adam could go, and just repeat the algorithm constantly, and lining the results up, in the desperate hope of getting a linear shift in mood. He could do that, he supposed, but the amount of time it would take would be impossible to bear in the long term. A moment took two seconds. Imagine, what a full hour of constant footage would take. But, this hindrance couldn''t show itself here. This was because of the mechanic behind the test. The movements did not change! They moved, sure, but they reset themselves, making it all into a loop, and a short loop at that. This didn''t leave much to analyse, much to Adam''s contentment. Less work, with the same, high level of results. And, with the nature of the test, being what it was, it would leave him ample time in fine-tuning his algorithm. He wouldn''t be putting all of his trust into it yet, of course. He would be double-checking every single thing the algorithm spat out by hand. Sure, it would take extra time, but that was the whole point of this environment; To improve already existing manifestations of logic. Without any further excuses to delay the analyzation, Adam delved into the needed image recreation. The algorithm for great, when it came to one single aspect. If one broke it down to its core principle, It was simply a massive bundle of yes and no questions. A haphazardly put together flowchart. It looked terrible, but it worked in the way of Adam not needing to think too much about his choices with it. The heavy lifting had already been prepared, and simply filling out the minor detail was all that was needed. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The first series of questions were preliminaries, to figure out which main branches the algorithm would flow with. This was mostly physical-based questions, comprising any¡­ handicaps, which could have a larger impact on the way the body behaved. Say, as an example, if the random human was a uniped, instead of the standard biped, the algorithm would ask, if the person was heavily supporting themselves on one foot. The questions needed to be tailored to the individual, or they would fall short in many of the needed aspects. And, for now, too many of these main branches were incomplete. Instead of having added more kinds of questions to them, Adam had just removed the questions, which would have been pointless. He hadn''t gotten the chance of analysing first hand, the actions of otherwise disabled people, making his questions about them worthless. But, he didn''t need to worry too much about that for now, with the model having the same physical features of Troy. A body, which Adam had much experience with. And¡­ there it was. The last meaningful tirade, which Adam could muster, before needing to go into full-on inspection mode. This time, he surely meant it. The physical details about the body were quickly filled out. Adam didn''t even need to look at the body, to know these things. Next, came the true analysis. Here, it would start from the top to bottom, with the facial features, being the first things noted. First, off where the placement of the eyebrows. In a progressive state, throughout the looping animation, they would get more and more furrowed. Here, with the upwards turn of them at the sides, they did not indicate a state of confusion. It was a hint towards annoyance. Adam, who had been manually following along at this point, agreed with this first assumption of many. Next was the muscle use on the general face. Not to say that the algorithm would be taking into account the state of contraction of every individual muscle. No, that was an exponential function, which Adam did not want to mess with yet. Still, the algorithm would be taking into account the different muscle groups, which were dictated by the placement of the muscles. Adam wasn''t sure if this was medically accurate, but it was currently the easiest way to divide them semi-evenly. Getting back on the flow, the lower group of muscles did not indicate a direct downwards formed mouth. But, it was in a state, which implied it to happen at any second. The jaw was tense, showing off a minor amount of stressed expressionism. Another step in the line of annoyance. But, how annoyed could the face be described as? Minor? Major? Or, along the lines, of the model already planning, where to hide the body? ¡­ Adam would personally describe it as a decent medium, closer to minor than major. Now, it came on the more general look of the neck and shoulders. The first obvious lead was the external jugular vein, something which could be found on every human body. But, in Troy''s case, it did not always show. It only brought itself forth, under higher times of need, such as more than average amounts of body movements, or¡­ stressful moments in life. Going down to the shoulders, their current placement could not be described as comfortable. The muscles, only being regularly used when lifting, were on display, tenser than Adam had ever seen before. This part must have been guesswork on their side. He was sure, that Troy did not have this level of fitness, however minor it might be. Nonetheless, it showed the instinctual reaction of making the body seem larger as if it was threatened. This feature was not used in day to day life, being a remnant of a long-forgotten time, in humanity''s history. And, its uses had more than a small bit of overlap. With its use not being vital to survival, some¡­ changes have emerged in the requirements for its appearances. The entity in question did not necessarily need to be in a life or death situation for it to appear. A stress factor from common features of life was more than enough to activate it, for better or for worse. It could even be described as more of a hindrance to the body, than a positive feature. Adam personally thought it was stupid. What made being larger make one more threatening? The predator would have already seen the smaller variant and should know, that the body-mass would not have changed. He couldn''t blame the animals too much, though. Their level of understanding was simply too low for his standard. Going to the two sides of the body, Adam came upon the arms of the model. Much to his surprise, he didn''t see them as stiff and unwieldy. Actually, they could easily be described as being slack and loose, just hanging there in the air, with no stronger implications to them. This¡­ this was something the algorithm did not like. As stated before, it was simply a prototype. Prototypes came with some¡­ glitches if one could even call it that. The most prevalent problem in Adam''s current algorithm build would be how large the first impressions set the scene for any future questions. It was not a fault with the system. He had made it that way. Not intentionally, though. It was a fault of Adam''s own mindset. It was the way he thought himself. It did not seem like the worst idea, to directly port his own ways of thinking into the algorithm. It worked for him. Why shouldn''t it work for something else? That''s where the flaws began running in. While Adam was almost always right with the first impressions, for now, at least. But, sometimes, he was wrong. That wasn''t too often, of course, and when he was, he could always just change his presumptions on the fly. The algorithm¡­ couldn''t do that. The initial guess of the model showcasing annoyance was beginning to look false, yet the algorithm still took it as a fact, yet to be fully proven. If Adam just continued with it, it would undoubtedly show off some impressive leaps of logic, which would showcase exactly how annoyed the model was. Except¡­ it wouldn''t be true. The answer would have been meaningless from the start. Altogether, it meant, that the algorithm would be put on the backburner. For this specific model, at the least. Adam would probably bring it back out again, during the next looping animation. So, pure, manual labour was back on the table. At least, Adam had already gotten the results from the less obvious parts of the body. The facial features indicated annoyance, or some other negative emotion, which positively halved the possible outcomes. The shoulders and neck brought it down to something stressful, something most wouldn''t be able to keep up, due to the required chemicals in the brain. It had to be some emotion which could be reasonably attributed to some variation of violence. Yet, violence could not be the main focus. Otherwise, the arms would be at least slightly flexed, ready to move at a moment''s notice. They weren''t, remaining in a relaxed, unready position. Adam needed more information, and, to get that, he would need to analyse further. With most of the highest parts of the upper body completed, it was time for the lower parts of the upper body. What a confusing sentence, that was. It was time for the abs, and lower back. This was where it could be described as getting interesting. With the movements not being static, they had the potential to change. The previously analyzed part of the model did use this factor, to some extent, but never diverted too much from the main thread. They didn''t switch over to other states completely, instead of making smaller motions, which did not contradict the larger point of it. The abs and the lower back didn''t play by these rules. Throughout the loop, they contradicted each other. First, the abs would tense suddenly, implying a readiness to move forward, something that couldn''t be called simply an annoyance. Yet, just after getting ready, the lower back would tense, voiding all potential energy built up to move forward, likely being the reason for why the brows were furrowed on the face. The model was showing indecisiveness in its movements as if it was unsure of what it wanted to do with itself. And, the legs showed the same amount of resolve. They were coordinated with the upper body, getting ready to move, yet stopping before getting into the action. The footwork didn''t showcase any past planning to commit this action. It was a reaction taken back before fruition. Adam would have loved to know what the model was reacting to. Some background context. But, that wasn''t possible. This was a test, after all. A simulation of reality, at the best. So, Adam did the next best thing, making an answer with all the currently available information he had acquired. All he needed to do know, was to send it over to Troy, who would helpfully write it all down. ''My observations lead me to believe that this person is feeling indecisive anger. He knows he is angry, yet he doesn''t know what to do about it, first driving himself into action, before immediately stopping himself. The anger itself is not yet fully formed, or fully processed, with his arms not yet going through the same start-up, as the lower body, or the shoulders and neck. The facial features themself showcase some type of negative feeling, with the context being a larger amount of emotion. This is my answer.'', Adam fully sent over to him. Troy nodded along the way, making some head turns to showcase comprehension. "Okay", Troy slowly began. "A great answer. A very good answer indeed. It is, in fact, so good, that you''re gonna have to repeat it to me again, because there is no way I am remembering this word for word." Adam took it as a win. Chapter 41: Agglomeration
Stepping out of the puzzle room nearly made Troy faint. The whole standing around the same place for hours on end could not be good on his ankles. Was he really risking a life of heart disease for this? Not that he needed to be worrying about stuff like that for the next twenty years. But, Troy wouldn''t mind pushing that up to at least thirty. And, oh lord, how his body was protesting this job of his. Had he done anything lately, which could be classified as healthy body-work? His body didn''t think that and was beginning to show its opinion about it, in the form of stiff joints. Troy needed to do something physically challenging if he was going to be fixing this stiffness. He didn''t care what it was. He just needed to do it. Outside the puzzle room, just a meter or two away from the platform, Dr Hale was there to receive him for a change. Where was- oh, of course. Dr Fidelis was at the screen typing away word after word in quick succession, not putting any parts of his mind on the world around him. How¡­ not surprising at all. "While I normally disagree on many of Dr Fidelis'' assessments of you, there is one I can, which I can undoubtedly agree on", Dr Hale stated, from below him. "And that is your general liking to being awfully slow. Even more so, when there are others unwillingly waiting on you to get your inferior posterior down from there." How much fun she was having down there. Maybe Troy should just let her enjoy it a while more, and take his time getting down the few steps. They were slippery in this season. There wasn''t any reason not to be precautionary. Troy did hasten his stride by a bit. Even if he wanted to irritate the minds of others, Dr Hale had officially been put out of that list. She had dirt on him, so he would be on his best behaviour around her. Well... more like, better behaviour, really. "I''m going as fast as I can", Troy said back, taking the last step to the ground. "Seeing as you didn''t dive down the stairs, I find your statement hard to believe," Dr Hale refuted back, her one of voice as professional as ever. Though, was it just Troy, or was her words getting more¡­ blunt, in front of Dr Fidelis? "Just get over here, so Dr Fidelis can get on with preparing the next test." And a little more aggression had slipped into her words than usual. Had something happened between those two, while Troy was inside testing stuff? Better not to ask, if he turned out to be right. Troy hurried over to the not at all patient Dr Hale, where the two of them got right up with stripping down him of his recording gear. This included the feel-through gloves, which were more than a simple hassle to get off. He had even been slightly scared of making them rip, but it seemed that his hand had larger chances of doing so, as he felt a couple of unhealthy cracks, as he removed the gloves. It wasn''t from the bones, lucky for him, but from the joints. Still hurt, though. "I''m not going to be the one putting in all the work," Dr Hale reminded him, not stopping in her efforts in getting on the microphone strapped to his shirt. Seemed like she didn''t want to go Dr Fidelis'' route of simply ripping it off, with no regards of the damage it might cause. "Get the camera off your head yourself." Troy did so, with no comment on her struggles. And, how amusing it looked. Definitely didn''t let that one show on his face. "Tug it upwards, while twisting it to the right", Dr Fidelis muttered, without looking away from the screen. His eyes were enamoured with whatever he was working on. When Troy had taken a look at what he had been doing, he only saw pictures of forestry landscapes of all things. What a weird thing to look at. Was he even working most of the time? Dr Hale stopped in her struggles for a moment, before following his advice. It came off seamlessly. Troy wondered why he hadn''t followed his own advice last time. This left himself, as the only person working on getting this gear off him. It was more than a little difficult, in doing so, seeing as Troy couldn''t see, what he was working with. And, Dr Hale didn''t seem to be in the mood for helping, instead just silently looking at Troy judgingly. Oh, she was enjoying this, wasn''t she? After too much time had passed, Troy finally got the headpiece off of himself. It wasn''t elegant in any sense of the word, and he might have lost a few stray hairs in the process, but he did learn one thing from it. He preferred Dr Fidelis. It was set in stone. Seeing that he was done, Dr Hale handed the rest of the equipment over to him, before going back to her usual placement of being in the background, taking constant notes. This gave him the obvious task of giving it all over to Dr Fidelis, who still hadn''t spared as much as a glance over to them. Taking another look at what he was working on that screen of his, Troy saw another landscape, this one of a featureless desert, without a single building in sight. How unrealistic. Troy went to do this assigned task off his, trying to do so as quietly as possible. He hadn''t yet seen the reaction Dr Fidelis gave when disturbed during working. And, he wasn''t currently in the mood of finding out the inner workings of that particular reaction today. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. As silent as a very fat fox, he tried to delicately put down the gear on the table. The gloves were easy, with the fabric already being so light, and not making any sound upon impact. It was after those, that it got so much harder. The next moment came right out of a bad comedy, with Troy trying to put down the microphone, with the same level of caution, accidentally letting go of it too early, recoiling in the horror of his actions, and presumptively losing steering of all other objects in his grasp. As in, the recording camera, which made a mighty fine shattering of glass sound, when hitting the floor. Troy didn''t know, what he expected Dr Fidelis'' reaction to be. Anger? It would the most obvious one. Destroying one''s own equipment was fine enough, but others doing it with no direct purposes? Not the finest thing in the world. But, this was Dr Fidelis he was talking about. The man, who Troy saw as a little lax on the rules, not caring for anything other than great, true results. Maybe, he would see the whole thing as a joke, just cracking a smile at Troy''s misfortunes. None of this happened though. As Troy winced, ready for a reaction on Dr Fidelis'' part, nothing came. He just thought it as a delayed timer, where the bomb would blow at any second. But¡­ nothing came. Not even as much as a raised exhale. Dr FIdelis was simple looking at Troy impassively, with a thoughtful gaze. "There is something, which I have been wondering", Dr Fidelis stated, not putting any attention on the mess in front of him, and instead of looking up at Troy. Troy took this as a great aversion, to the standard response to thousands of dollars worth of recording equipment destroyed, and entertained Dr Fidelis in his mumbles. "Anything about me, which I might be able to tell you?" Troy asked, digging more into what Dr Fidelis was saying. "No, but also yes," Dr Fidelis responded, his eyes focusing on Troy''s face. "It isn''t about you specifically, even if it does involve you personally. And, I think you can help me, in clearing a few things up about it." Not something personal, but something which Troy would know a lot about. He didn''t even need to ask. "It''s about Adam", Troy said, continuing his thought process. Dr Fidelis looked at Troy for a moment, with a face that told no thoughts. It was disturbing, knowing one was being watched, but not knowing the thoughts or emotions of the observer. "Yes. It is", Dr Fidelis confirmed. His voice had risen in the tones, going from a minor of somberness to a raw mass of curiosity. He was getting back to his normal levels of it, but the enthusiasm wasn''t quite there yet. "I don''t know why, but Adam is great at these test. Brilliant even. If I was allowed to do so, I would acclaim him for his valiant efforts, and the magnificent score records which he has gotten himself. But, I can''t. And, this is because, it was planned, that Adam should not have gotten the results. He should have failed horribly in nearly all of them, with only pure chance holding him back from total loss. Yet, he prospered. He survived. I can''t tell the reasons why this is. Yesterday, it was all going along to plan. Adam wasn''t failing in anything completely, of course, but any of the harder challenges we threw at him would be misunderstood, or just gotten plain wrong in the assessments. You didn''t even catch a couple of them, much to my own merriment. Now, the question is¡­ why hasn''t Adam failed in this test of mine? I''m thinking you might be able to fill me in on that." As Dr Fidelis came closer to finishing his little speech, Troy grew more and more nervous. Forget the hold Dr Hale had upon him. She didn''t even need to do anything when it came to him being exposed. Dr FIdelis would find it all by himself, with pure, methodical deduction. Why hadn''t Troy thought of the implications, that the escapade would have on Adam? Troy had called it a test, to use as an easy, and reasonable excuse! Of course, Adam would be taking it seriously, documenting everything like he was supposed to do, and learning from everything Troy ever saw. With so many people, Adam''s deduction abilities must have skyrocketed. The small amounts of presumed progress in any of the regular tests didn''t matter. The amount of sheer information Adam had to work with had increased exponentially. Take this. In a normal test, Adam would get the information about everything happening with one body, in the usual timeframe of, say, two-three hours. The poker game had lasted nearly four alone. And, oh god, the number of people present was so much more, than what could ever be shown in the standard tests. Just under ten was at the table around him. Hundreds, if one had looked further than that. Troy didn''t doubt that Adam had done so. Dr Fidelis had been right in his assessment. Adam should have failed horribly today if that was what was planned to happen. No amount of analysis of the test could have furthered his levels of skill to such high levels in such a short amount of time. He would have needed outside help to do so. Outside resources, which Adam should have never been able to get without Dr Fidelis knowing about it. So, what did Troy need to do? Confess him crimes, and serve the punishment? Call him crazy, but he just couldn''t do it. He was dead to rights in being caught. Acting stupid would only bring him more punishment. But, refusing that anything had happened wasn''t smart either. Adam must have gotten the information from somewhere, and Troy was the only one with the necessary means to do so. Dr Fidelis knew he had the earpiece. They had been discussing it a while before. To sum it all up, Troy needed to understate, what exactly he had been doing, while still giving probable evidence, as to why Adam would be in his current state. And so, he began talking. His face was already scrunched up with a guilty face to match it. How he hoped it could be used for multiple purposes. "You''re right in your guess," Troy began it all up with, giving himself a second to compose himself by making a small cough. "I¡­ I may have been communicating with Adam, outside of testing. It was just that, of course. Small talk or two." His words brought amusement to Dr Fidelis'' eyes, but the rest of his face remained as serious. "Do you take me, for such a fool, that I can''t hear a lie so obvious?" Dr Fidelis asked rhetorically. "I could even call your words a dishonour to be heard." Troy prayed his new job wouldn''t suck too much. "No, I don''t," Troy said. "I was just putting my chances a little too high." At this, the stone face cracked, and Dr Fidelis burst out with laughter. He just watched the serious features fade away, replaced by signs of pure mirth. Troy had never taken him for a sadist. Was he really enjoying his firing so much? Any moment now, Dr Fidelis would go all serious, and just say he was fired, before going into another fit of laughter. He just knew it. "''A little'', you say?" Dr Fidelis nearly shouted, not matching the words Troy had presumed would be coming before the laughter overtook him yet again. "That is the understatement of the week if I have a thing to say about! Which I do, seeing as I''m the one keeping count of it." It was official. Troy had no idea what was going on. "Please be more careful in your lying, in the future", Dr Hale supplied informatively, from behind him. "Calling your interactions with Adam ''small'', is not in any way possible. The amount of needed interaction needed to have brought him into the possible realm of getting these levels of results indicates that you have spent a larger part of your free time talking to him. It is obvious, this is the reason, with your lack of proper functioning this morning." If Troy had not stopped himself, he would have audibly gulped. Dr Fidelis didn''t know the truth! The possibility of him having confessed was scary to think about. He could be getting out of this free. "How stupid of me", Troy said, not putting any effort into speaking the words correctly. It seemed like he would live another day. Dr Fidelis screams of laughter indicated so, at least. Chapter 42: Demythologization
"But, really, you using that earpiece in your possession is not the wisest thing to do", Dr Fidelis said. "Will you be taking it away, then?" Troy asked worryingly. He hoped not. "Goodness, no!", Dr Fidelis reassured him quickly, waving his hands about to deflate the growing concern inside Troy. "Doing so would completely ruin my future plans!" The words didn''t make sense to him. Not too surprising, of course, but still. "But, I thought your plan was for Adam to fail?" Troy asked into, with an inquiring tone. "Doesn''t me talking to him ruin them?" Dr Fidelis just chuffed at the two. "Not really," Dr Fidelis stated, with not much concern about what he was talking about. "The original plan was for Adam to see how much more he needed to learn, and me positively bombarding him with the rest of the models from the previous test, including detailed descriptions about every poses they made. But, that action of mine isn''t needed now, with you having done all the necessary heavy lifting. Now, I can move onto the more fun parts of this whole testing part, instead of dallying around with the bushes. I might even need to write a few messages about hastening some more permissions. Something to look into later. In the meanwhile, you really need to let me have a look at the earpiece in your possession. While I won''t take it away or anything, it is a fragile piece of hardware. I don''t think anyone would be pleased if it broke. And, the battery in the thing likely needs a bit of a small charge. They last for a long while, let me tell you that, but, if they go out while still in the earpiece, it''ll take the whole circuitry with it." His words brought hesitation to the forefront of Troy''s mind. Should he really be letting Dr Fidelis mess with the earpiece? There was always the chance of him deciding to just not give it back. Troy wasn''t too sure, that he wanted to risk it. Although¡­ if the words about the battery were true, it would be best, if he took it in for repair rather quickly. As Dr Fidelis said, this thing breaking would not be seen as a good thing, seeing as it was likely worth more than Troy had made throughout his short life. "I''ll bring it over when the next test starts", Troy promised, having made up his mind. Dr Fidelis backtracked on the seriousness of the whole debacle rather quickly though. "Oh, you don''t need to worry about it," Dr Fidelis assured him, with a calmer voice than what was typical for him. "While the delivery of the earpiece is paramount, getting it to me in the next hour is not needed. The next twenty-four hours sounds better. Can''t have you missing out on yet another meal, now, can we?" How did- no, wait, stupid question. Dr Fidelis had probably just asked Dr Hale about it. Dr Hale who had no reason not to answer truthfully. And, Troy was happy to hear that he wouldn''t be going another few hours without food. He had been getting more hungry than usual. Was it the extra thinking required, maybe? "That sounds fine too", Troy confirmed, nodding just to approve of the suggestion even further. "Great to hear, buddy!", Dr Fidelis cheered him on. "Now, go along, you two, and I''ll even forget about the horrible mess you made." And, out the door Troy went, walking faster than any man before him had. Dr Hale was not too far behind, walking in a leisurely pace. At least, it felt like that, as he heard Dr Fidelis laughing maniacally from behind. What a disturbing fellow he could be sometimes. "You shouldn''t trust his words so much", Dr Hale said, as the two of them walked down the hallway, already having made much ground away from the testing room. Troy had even thought, that it might have a walk of pure silence, but he wasn''t that lucky today, it seemed like. "Fine words coming from a blackmailer", Troy retorted. He had not forgotten the last conversation they had had in this hallway. Dr Hale still had him around the neck, now that he thought about it. Wouldnt this mean, that he should be on his best behaviour around her? It sure did, but Troy was still riding on the high, called only nearly getting caught. "I''m not a blackmailer", Dr Hale said defensively. "That would imply, I''m trying to get something out of you. I don''t do that kind of stuff. I already have all I need from you, with your permission or not." Well, wasn''t that just fabulous to hear? "If you''re trying to sound nice, it''s not working", Troy said. "And, what do you mean about not trusting Dr Fidelis'' words?" Dr Hale looked at him, not in surprise, but just a striking amount of disbelief. "Are you really so stupid?" Dr Hale questioned her normal tone of voice nowhere to be found and replaced by one of condescension. Troy noted how that kind of voice had been used on him a lot recently. That wasn''t too good of a thing. "Can''t you see, where he blatantly lied to you?" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Was I supposed to?" Troy responded, knowing how dumb his choice of words made him look. But, seeing the annoyance it caused on her face made it all worth it. "The battery life!", Dr Hale stated, with an air of disbelief. "How can you believe anything about that?" Okay, now he was confused. Troy was pretty sure that battery failure was a valid cause for electronics being damaged. "What was he lying about with that?" Troy questioned, with an incredulous tone. "It''s a sound reason for why-" "The earpiece doesn''t have any battery!", Dr Hale said, cutting into his attempts to reason. "The device is powered wirelessly by your brain implant. As if, a battery could ever fit in that earpiece." Oh¡­ that made a bit more sense, than what Troy felt it should be. Not that it shifted his current views too much, though. "Even if he lied about his reasons, I''m not too off on the idea of lending it to him for a while", Troy said, still onset to uphold his promise. "You never know. The earpiece could be damaged from all the use. I can''t uphold the quality of it if something in it is damaged. That''s a job for Dr Fidelis." "If it is an emergency, I can get some other people to fix it for you," Dr Hale answered back calmly. "I admit, making sure, that your device is fully stable is of the highest importance. But, still, giving it over to Dr Fidelis has the possibility of it biting too much back." How could it make anything worse? Troy was just making sure, that his earpiece wasn''t broken. "How? I''m not sure Dr Fidelis will try to destroy the earpiece or anything", Troy said. "He''s not that kind of a person." "I''m not talking about the safety of the earpiece. I''m talking about the safety of you," Dr Hale stated. "You and Adam have been having conversations. Conversations, which has boosted Adam''s level of understanding to massive heights. Don''t you think Dr Fidelis want to know how? Maybe even, what you two have been talking about? The best solution, to figure that out, would be to just record everything the two of you say, by modifying the earpiece a small bit." Her point made him nauseous. Dr Hale was right in her presumptions. Troy just knew, that splicing a recorder into the earpiece was exactly something Dr Fidelis would do. It would all be innocent, of course. Just something to gain more data from. But, maybe even with the first listen trough, Dr Fidelis would realize it all. Dr Hale was right. Troy couldn''t risk something like that happening. He needed to find some way out of his promise. "Do you have any-", Troy began to say but stopped himself. Looking around, he saw Dr Hale had already moved on, resuming her walk like their conversation had not transpired. "Wait up!" She didn''t.
"-And, that is exactly why I should have received an Ig Nobel prize, instead of just a clap on the back. How frightful, that they dared to make such a mistake," Charlie went on, talking in detail about the wrongdoings of the upper management. At this point, Troy wasn''t sure, why he bothered. It was always the same people he complained about. Nearly the same things too. If Troy had a say in it, Charlie should have just recorded a few of the sentences, put in swear words at random, and just mix the names up every now and then. He himself wouldn''t be able to tell the difference. Maybe, it already was like that, and Troy hadn''t realized it. Ever thought about that? Troy sure hadn''t. "How terribly interesting", Troy muttered, just to put in his minimum amount of socialization. In actuality, his focus was on something much more important. What the heck was he supposed to do with the earpiece now? Dr Hale''s argumentation, on why Troy shouldn''t give the earpiece up to Dr Fidelis made sense! If she were to be believed, which he wasn''t too sure about yet, Dr Fidelis'' original statement about the battery was fake. It was supposedly only there to entice him into giving the earpiece up. The reasoning sounded good on paper. When Troy thought about it, putting in any batteries in that tiny thing of an earpiece, it sounded nearly impossible. And, he didn''t remember anything vaguely looking like a power source, when Dr Fidelis had disassembled the earpiece a while back. Yet¡­ Troy had not recognized anything else from that earpiece. It had all looked completely foreign to him. Also, trusting Dr Hale at all, at this point, seemed like a bad idea. She already had blackmail material on him, even if she wasn''t using it. Giving her yet another way to ruin his future potential did not seem like the best idea in this small world of theirs. But, she was still right in one thing. The possible consequence of giving the earpiece over to Dr Fidelis. Sure, he might just take it away from Troy permanently, but that wasn''t that large a concern, at this point. No, the biggest concern was that Dr Fidelis would give the earpiece back, with a fancy little recorder inside, without making him aware of it. It was very much within the possibility spectrum, that Adam would begin asking when the new, irregular test would occur. If any recording devices had been put in, Troy wouldn''t even be able to inform Adam of his needed silence, not even that he could be under the implied recording state. And, Troy was still under the impression, that getting the earpiece checked up, was a good idea. If he just went with Dr Fidelis, that potential problem could be fixed, and Troy could even ask to look at the earpiece, while it was being inspected. He could see for himself if there were any batteries to be had. Yet, those words of his weren''t too good argumentation, for why he should go that route. Dr Hale had stated that she could have some other people take a look at it. Troy could just ask to inspect it, while it was being analysed, there too. That seemed like a good alternative. Troy had to sigh, at this point in time, for he already knew how these thoughts would progress. He had been thinking those identical things over and over, since the moment he put his bottom down on the chair. But¡­ Here was the deal-breaker to all of it. The promise. That deity-damned promise. And, a promise to a direct superior at that! Don''t call him a coward, but Troy did not feel comfortable breaking a pledge to such a person. His survival instincts were already kicking, by just thinking about doing such things. So, to summarize, there was a whole pile of good reasons, for why Troy shouldn''t give the earpiece over to Dr Fidelis. By nearly all accounts, doing such a thing would be suicidal. But¡­ he would do so anyway, due to not having the courage of disobeying a self-made promise to his superiors. Troy didn''t like it at all. There had to be some way out of it. Some way, to make sure, that he couldn''t mess it all up for himself, even if Dr Fidelis ended up planning a bug on the earpiece. Then, for the first time in thirty redo''s of these thoughts, something original actually came up in Troy''s fragile mind. A solution, albeit a very stupid one. Going back in time, to the period, where Troy only had a substandard brain-implant. There was something in the brain-implant, that caused it to malfunction, go to overload mode, whatever, you get the point. To fix this glaring issue, Dr Fidelis had fed him some pill, which upgraded the brain-implant and enhancing its capabilities. The details about that don''t matter too much, seeing as Troy had no memory of it ever getting it explained to him. What mattered, was the way Adam had seen it, from his perspective. He had detailed it, as a constantly fluctuating line of input-sources, which all seemed slightly different from each other. Confusing to Troy, but he got the general point across to him. The point was, that Adam could tell the difference between input-sources. Troy was betting on, him being able to also distinguish the earpiece if It changed in any meaningful way. And, in some circumstance, sense any alterations made to an already existing earpiece. You heard it, right folks. Troy was betting his future job chances on a wide, unproven leap of logic, which would likely come back to bite him in the bottom. The chances of Adam being capable of distinguishing to such a fine detail was smaller than Troy would have preferred it to be. But it was the only good plan he could think of, where he was double insured on not being tricked. That is if he also got to see Dr Fidelis during the repair. "Have you heard about the news lately?" Charlie said, a little higher than before, catching Troy''s attention in the progress. "Another country joined up with us. We''re finally at a breaking point, now. The cold war has got nothing on us anymore." Chapter 43: Disinformation
"Excuse me, what?" Troy said. He was now fully out of his own little world, properly fixed on, what Charlie had just said. Troy had not been too focused on any kinds of news, but he was pretty sure that he would still have heard of such a thing happening. Even one as apolitical as he still understood the implications of that innocuous statement. "I''m taking that as a no", Charlie surmised, with a strangely amused glint, looking at Troy''s shocked expression. "Am I wrong in assuming the same for you, Dr Hale?" Dr Hale, who had been entirely focused on balancing a larger amount of food on her fork, looked up, only to quickly focus her gaze back down, as her steady progress had been rapidly lost, with it all spilling back onto the plate. Troy didn''t feel any remorse, as he had maybe shaken the table a small bit while readjusting himself. "No, you are not," Dr Hale said, not looking pleased in her wasted efforts, but still holding her voice calm, albeit a small bit displeased. "Do continue, if not for my benefit, then for Troy''s" "Oh, I wouldn''t have shut up, even if you asked me", Charlie briefly consoled Dr Hale, sounding all too remorseful about it. As in, with none at all. "Anyway, where should I begin? Oh, yeah, how about the start of it all? You see here, young children of near thirty years old each, or however old you are supposed to be, the strain between our country and another, henceforth known as Fatum and Bello respectively, have been growing rapidly for the last month or two. If somebody had questioned me about it last week, I wouldn''t have been too surprised, if the two decided to just fight it all out, the consequences of it being damned. Not that it would have been too smart, on old Bello''s, for the obvious reasons, but it would have been entertaining in the least." The obvious reasons were much more serious than Charlie let on. Fatum, the country which Troy hoped he was currently housed inside, was not alone at all. It was centred inside a massive alliance, nearly allied with half the countries in the world. Fatum, on the other side of the spectrum, was a country, who''s sole survival had been on the fact, that it hadn''t been aggressive, and others just letting it be for it. But now, that status has developed. Bello was trying to take on a massive group of countries, without any real support from others. From what Troy could remember, they weren''t even too equipped, when it came to the military, only having a couple of million drones in their repertoire. Bello, on the other hand, had virtually everything it needed to conquer any single country. If, of course, it had the rights to use all of those resources of course. If it was attacked, most would be at its disposal, though. Anyway, back to Charlie''s little explanation, which Troy was surely putting his full attention onto. "As you could have suspected, from me having already spoiled it for you, Bello decided to get its mind out of whatever hole it was in," Charlie continued, not even stopping for breath after most of the sentences. "They came whimpering over to us, with their heads to the floor and down on their knees, asking for all kinds of forgiveness. We, being the generous bastards we are, decided to accept their sincere regrets, under the condition that they join the little boys club, which a good number of the world have going on." Dr Hale was having a pleasant time, trying to enjoy her dinner, while Troy was over to her side, trying to contain his small nervous wall breaking. All mental of course. He wouldn''t be able to afford to destroy anything in that facility of theirs. Troy already knew, what came next in Charlie''s explanation. And, the contents would not bode well with him. "I think, that both of us already know, what this simply conditions of ours mean, right? It doesn''t just affect us. It doesn''t just affect Bello. It changes the whole political landscape of the entire, hecking world. We are nearly equal, with the other group. Three countries remain neutral, and both sides will soon be forcing a decision out of them too. And, once that is done, something''s gonna is happening across the world," Charlie continued to spout. Progressively, he had been getting more and more heated in his body language, nearly standing in his seat, at the end. But, when there finally appeared a natural break in his words, he sat right back down, acting as if he hadn''t moved at all. "What, I''m not too sure about. You would have to ask our resident expert on that." "And, who exactly would that be?" Troy asked, getting more enthralled into the subject than he probably should have. It wasn''t his fault, that international politics, which would affect him personally shortly, was so damn interesting. "That, my friend, would be our good, old buddy, Darlow," Charlie stated, popping a spoonful of mush into his mouth, while still talking. "Not too sure, about his whereabouts nowadays. He keeps finding the trackers I''ve been putting on him. So distrustful of him. Took him under five minutes, with the last one, which I planted on him yesterday night. Didn''t even have the decency of waiting to find it, until we had left the bar." "Did you put any of those trackers on me?" Troy questioned, mildly sidetracked by Charlie''s lesser disturbing words. Here he was, fussing so much about the potential recording devices of Dr Fidelis, while Charlie was actively talking about tracking somebody in front of him. "... no", Charlie meekly answered, not showcasing off his earlier prowess in poker faces. "He did", Dr Hale confirmed, from the sidelines, while enjoying her food in relative silence. "It''s on the inside of your left shoe. It should look like an overly large part of old fluff. Oh, it did not matter, if they were messing with him, or not. Troy would be checking that place no matter what was said. "How did you know where it would be?" Charlie asked, with a curious tone. "I didn''t even put it on him, while you were there. Got a few bugs on him yourself?" There was a bloody tracker on his shoe! It was shaped like an oddly flat-shaped old yarn, which Troy must have glanced over last time, he put those shoes of his on. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "What you have in technological prowess, you lack in all other subjects", Dr Hale flatly observed, which made even Troy wince, from under the table. "From the moment I first met you, every tracker you have put on people were always located on the inner side of the left shoe. As a small tip for you, maybe you should try another place. The current one is too obvious." "Don''t give him advice about it", Troy told Dr Hale, who didn''t even react to his words, before attempting to steer the conversation back on track. "Anyways, do you think you might be able to get me in contact with Darlow? Not to sound too self-centred, but I wouldn''t mind knowing a bit more about the situation from an expert, instead of you." Charlie didn''t seem to take offence to his words, instead of laughing at them. "Oh, that is perfectly understandable. Most of the time, I don''t even trust half of what I say either. Supposedly, I put my own spin on already factual information, making it even harder to understand, but that''s just fair criticism", Charlie stated, shrugging a bit in the process. "And, if you really want to know more about it that much, I can just bring you along, next time I try to spy on little Darlow. Does¡­ this afternoon sound fine to you?" Before he even had the chance to answer, Dr Hale went to do it for him. "Keep it to the day hours. This kid nearly caused me to lose a few more rights today. I''m not putting that much faith in you or him," Dr Hale stated, with no small glare at Charlie. "Do you even have any rights to lose?" Charlie questioned. "That last drinking debacle of yours took away most, that I could count." The glare shone in pure intensity so much, that Troy was feeling it from the side. How Charlie kept up that oblivious smile of his was a wonder to be seen. "You signed multiple contracts, effectively stopping you from even being allowed to think about this unnamed incident," Dr Hale pointed out with a voice that could steel. "Are we clear?" Troy felt the need to shout ''yes mam'', out of pure survival needs, but luckily stopped himself. "I still have a couple of loopholes in my sleeve, which you don''t know about", Charlie smugly replied, the sheer energy radiating from Dr Hale not seeming to affect him in the slightest. Dr Hale just sighed at him, the previous, mildly murderous intent, vanishing with it. "For the last time, Charlie, editing typos into your own copy of the contracts does not make them valid," Dr Hale stated. "It makes them real to me!" "Can I get some background information on this rapacious discussion you two people are having?" Troy asked, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Getting some more storytime about Dr Hale''s drunken adventures was just too good. Charlie had only mentioned them in passing, which did not help in infuriating Troy. But, now, he had an actual chance of learning more from the main sources. "I mean-", Charlie started, his smile ever-widening, but Dr Hale cut him off before he even had a chance to utter more than a couple of words. "Oh, no you don''t," Dr Hale said, the sharp tone back with a vengeance. "Troy is, according to the specifications of the contract, a professional worker at this facility. You only have the right to mention that the unnamed incident in question occurred, but you are not allowed to give anything further than that!" Was that a mild fluster? Troy knew, at this point, that toning it down on the already mild pressure would be a good choice of action. Dr Hale was starting to show emotion on her face, something which both intrigued and utterly horrified him, deep into his core. Consequently, changing the topic of conversation yet again did not seem like too bad of an idea. It was surprising, truly, that they were letting him do this. Usually, it was Troy trying to hold still, with their conversation. "Speaking of things we can''t speak too much about, Charlie, has anything interesting been happening at your position?" Troy asked out of the blue. "And, we are not talking about people breaking in on your alone time." Charlie seemed saddened by Troy''s specific cut out of the topic, but he just did not want to learn another story about it. Three in one session was more than enough, thank you! "Well, if you want to be like that, I could tell you how I''m doing with my current project," Charlie sulkily observed. His current appearance would have fit on the face of a child, and not one of his real age. "There has been one interesting thing happen with this project of mine. Do you have any guesses, what it is, Dr Hale?" Oh, yeah, Dr Hale had some¡­ mechanical organs, right? They were miracle hangover cures. Or. so it was stated to him. at least. Dr Hale just looked at him, having nearly honed in on her food again. "Troy is trying to have a conversation with you, and not me," Dr Hale stated. "Please, do your best to keep with his wishes, and incorporate me in your tirades as little as possible." And right back, she went to focus on her food. What a person, to aspire to be, not giving a single damn about other people''s thoughts. "That would be hard, seeing as you''re the project of my dreams," Charlie said, making a rather vulgar smile in Dr Hale''s direction, before sharpening back on Troy, who was uncomfortable watching it all unfold. "As you should know by now, Dr Hale is still in possession of my current, standalone project. To be more exact, the project has replaced a few of her vital organs, and created a few whole new ones! I''m not allowed to tell you what the new ones do, but, trust me, they are rad. Like, guns are nearly useless against them, level of rad. Or, at least, they would be, if somebody would allow themselves to only drink human amounts of pure alcohol. That is, what I''m guessing the fine lady beside you is drinking constantly, for I can see no other reason on how she messed up her mechanical liver. Seriously, even pure oil would have done less damage. I will be seeing you later for that, by the way, Dr Hale." She gave a very polite grunt to affirm she had heard him. So, that was actually really interesting to know. Cyborgs supposedly existed, and they were heavy drinkers. Not what Troy had expected if he was being straightforward. Also, he had presumed the look of a cyborg to be more¡­ not manly, per se, but more muscular. Much more muscular. Like, at an amount, where a normal human would get heart failure, due to the pure muscle mass around it. ¡­ Troy really needed to cut down on his tv shows. They were shifting his worldview by too much. "What organs, other than the liver, was replaced?" Troy asked, with no hesitation. Yes, they were talking about some slightly nasty stuff, while others were eating, but it was just too intriguing to pass off on. "Oh, you would not believe, all the things I got to cut out off her," Charlie said, with the tone of voice, that made Troy believe it very much. "At first, I only had permission to replace the boring things like her liver and the kidneys. But, then, I wrangled my way out of replacing her right lung, too, you know, make a comparison on identical specimens. Yet, because of me doing so, there was too much weight on one side. Not by much, of course, but enough to make a difference. Therefore, I got the thumbs up on taking her heart out as well. I loved that part. Making a mechanical heart, which can respond just as a natural one was hard, but I got it done in record time. I might even have overdone it. Let''s just say, that she won''t be legally entering any endurance competitions. But, that isn''t even the craziest thing, I got the permissions to do. After some quick discussion, I was even allowed to cut out her-" "And, we are stopping it there", Dr Hale said, getting up from her chair. Troy looked down at her plate, which had been cleaned to the last bite. "The time has come to continue procedures, and I don''t take this as a valid excuse to delay." Taking a glance down at his own plate, Troy saw it nearly untouched. Again, he had forgotten all about it. He needed to just start automatically wolfing down his food, or he was gonna be losing weight again. "A shame", Charlie simply said, still sitting down. "I''ll tell you another time when I get the opportunity." He nodded in affirmation, as he got up to follow Dr Hale, who had wasted no time in waiting for their conversation to finish. Troy knew that shouting for her to wait would be a fruitless endeavour. "Hey, wait up." However, this didn''t stop him from trying. Chapter 44: Overcapitalization
"What are your feelings about wearing a single, extra thin layer of clothing?" Dr Fidelis asked, out of the blue. For context, Troy had been enjoying himself, having the whole walk over to the testing room to himself. He still travelled with Dr Hale, but she wasn''t in the mood for any talking between them, leaving him to use it wisely on self-improvement. As if. Troy had really been stressing about the moment, where Dr Hale would try to pressure Troy into not handing his earpiece over to Dr Fidelis. Mentally, he had been trying to systemize a whole set of excuses for, why he wouldn''t do so, as if loading a rifle for automatic fire. He was extra careful, and it stressed him out more than a bit. Yet, all that stress mysteriously vanished, radically replaced with great dread, as his mind comprehended, what had just come out of Dr Fidelis'' mouth. "What?" Troy blurted out, not even realizing the control he had over his own tongue. The words he had heard came from¡­ Dr Fidelis? How sure was he, that he wasn''t already inside the puzzle room, and Charlie was messing with him. That was, of course, forgoing the point, that Charlie did not even know of the room''s existence. Yet, it just made so much more sense, than Dr Fidelis asking Troy this specific question. "Not the answer I was looking for", Dr Fidelis said as casually as ever. Was Charlie really the curious one? Had Troy been looking at this whole thing the wrong way since the start? "Sorry", Troy started, yet unable to speak fully. "Are you¡­ Why did¡­ Can you rephrase your question? I¡­ I am not sure that I understand it." "What is there to misunderstand?" Dr Fidelis questioned right back. "It is a simple question." Troy wasn''t sure, what he was supposed to be thinking. But, he knew it was in the wrong direction, from the get-go. It had to be, or he would cry. "Dr Fidelis, please stop your jesting", Dr Hale said, more serious than what she usually used against him. Though, Troy was completely fine with it, seeing as she was coming to his defence. "He is clearly not capable of understanding such simple types of jokes." Even his defender made fun of him. How vivid! It was at this time, where Dr Fidelis simply couldn''t hold it down anymore. Troy should have noticed, that something was amiss, with his near-constant twitches on his face. But, they had been obscured by the facial hair, making him unsure, if they were real, or if they were just a byproduct of him talking. Apparently, it was the latter. "Okay, okay, miss ruins-my-fun," Dr Fidelis wheezed, clearly not having had his fun ruined. He was going way too hard in on the laughing, and, after a few more seconds of ear-blasting wheezes, began coughing. He still laughed, while doing so, of course. "Could I get some refresher on what he was talking about?" Troy asked Dr Hale, seeing as his primary source for information, had now incapacitated himself. Dr Hale looked at her direct superior, who had fallen to the ground, in both sadistic pleasure and pain. Her reaction to this was uncertain, seeing as her face let none of her thoughts leaks out into the world. Troy didn''t see anything, at the very least, which, for some, wouldn''t amount to much, but still. "Fine", Dr Hale finally answered, sounded strangely like she had given up on a certain somebody. "While I am sure Dr Fidelis found his personal wording of the question all too hilarious, the original still stands. Seeing as you are not able to understand this question fully, due to both your lacking understanding of simple concepts and the question missing a few key points of information, the task of rephrasing has seemingly fallen to me. As you may have guessed, our current methods to record your behaviour inside the puzzle room have been¡­ adequate, but not up to our high standards. This is due to the sudden need for a recording system, something which we didn''t expect to work on for another six months. But, chance occurred, and testing needed to start at once, forcing us to use subpar equipment, so we would even have a method to record with. Luckily, this obstacle does not need to exist any more. Hours before your initial arrival to this facility, we had put in a haste order for an advanced skinsuit, which would be able to give us fully three hundred and sixty-degree viewing of all your activities. While also providing us with nearly everything about the state of your vital organs, including simplistic things like heartbeat, blood pressure, stress levels, and how much you are flexing your upper thighs. Unfortunately, the consequences of putting haste on an already complicated order have caused us some downsides. When giving the designers your sizes, we gave them your raw versions. These sizes have not taken into account or need for wearing clothes. While getting into the skinsuit will be easy in nearly all types of clothing, it will not be able to close fully, while you are wearing anything other than an especially thin pair of boxers. Now, the problem is, that this situation was not fully realized as a possibility, when writing up your work contract, making it so, that we can''t force you to accept this change, due to the¡­ immature harassment it can potentially cause. I assure you, that I will gain no pleasure from seeing you in a skin-tight suit. As for Dr Fidelis¡­ he might be more inclined to stare at the skinsuit, instead of you. Stolen story; please report. So, with this load of information received, can you accept wearing a single, extra thin layer of clothes, for the sake of better data sets?" What a long, and explanatory description of, why Dr FIdelis had asked such a horrible thing. It would have been even better if Troy had fully listened to over half of it. He did comprehend the last bit, though, so all was well in the end. But, the question still stood. Would Troy be comfortable wearing- oh, who was he kidding? That last shred of dignity was only in his imagination. It had been lost this morning when he cried over stubbing his little toe twice in a row. The worst thing which could happen from wearing the suit would be that Dr Fidelis would try to strap on even more unnecessarily complicated things on him. No, wait, scratch that. Troy should not be making any assumption about his own willingness to perform out in the view of others, wearing something, which would make others cry. "Can I see the suit, before I make my decision?" Troy asked Dr Fidelis, who had stopped laughing halfway through Dr Hale''s explanation. His question further fueled the fire, though, and off he was rolling around on the floor. If Troy didn''t know any better, he would have likened it to a six-year-old boy being tickled. Not having the question answered by Dr Fidelis, Troy looked over to the second-best source of information, who he knew of. Now that he thought about it, wasn''t she also the most reliable? The one, who Troy had thought to be so, was rolling around nearly strangling himself. Putting any trust into that personality was just asking to be tricked. Dr Hale sighed, seeing his gaze, before walking over to the computer, where she began rapidly typing away. Troy walked with her, glancing over her shoulder as she mashed the buttons faster than his eyes could process the simple movement of the fingers. In the background, Troy could hear Dr Fidelis hitting a wall with a dull thud. It didn''t stop him from his loud howls of pleasure. God, that sounded wronger than it should have. To be franked with the current situation, though, Troy wasn''t too sure, why Dr Hale was even using the electronic screen right now. "Are you gonna be showing me a picture of it, or¡­", Troy began but was distracting by a loud hissing noise coming from the ceiling. Looking up, he could see a square painted the same colour as the ceiling heading towards him. "You might want to take a step in any preferred direction, or you will suffer less-than-lethal head trauma," Dr Hale stated, having already moved aside. Troy didn''t listen, staring upwards at the still size-increasing, two-dimensional square. Why he didn''t move out of the way, he wasn''t too sure about. PTSD was a great reason, in his own, humble opinion. Staring at so many two-dimensional things lately, and getting flack for taking his time in blinking, made one not waver in the face of other distractions, no matter how reasonable they were. Getting pulled harshly to the side did, though. Troy wasn''t sure anyone awake could ignore that. "Do you really want to get your sick days so much?" Dr Fidelis asked, holding Troy shoulders tight, and releasing them slowly, as the narrow platform descended. "Because I''m not letting you cash out just yet." Troy came to his senses not even a second after the last word had been uttered. His focus was on the closely escaped head trauma. That particular concept wasn''t on his mind right now. How, in the twelve circles of hell, was Dr Fidelis able to pull Troy away? From what he had last observed, Dr Fidelis should have been laying nearly ten meters away, laughing himself half to death. Troy should have heard him getting close, at least. Dr FIdelis looked old enough, to not be able to walk soundlessly, much less run while doing so. Why hadn''t he heard anything? That''s when the idiotic design of that ceiling cabinet came into his mind, and the impossibilities of Dr Fidelis'' action was flushed away, filed into the never opened storage space, which Troy called his ''long-term'' memory. "What idiot made a thing come down so close to the desk?" Troy stated, not being in the right mindset to realize, who he was asking. "It is a safety hazard!" "The right question would be; Who would do, what I did?" Dr Fidelis sent right back to Troy. "It''s a free safety mechanism. People cannot steal your data if they are suffering from semi-serious head trauma!" What a dystopian way of looking at the world. Troy was slightly uneasy about having to perform more tests created by this man. "Don''t worry about the safety features", Dr Hale said from the side. "Focus on the thing atop it." Oh, how could Troy forget? That whole thing was only set down, so he could get a better look¡­ at¡­ the¡­ What the frickity fracking tic tac was this supposed to be? And, in those colours? Troy was not an acclaimed clothing critic, but even he could see that this thing was not designed to be fashionable. "Were the colouring choices¡­ intentional?" was all Troy could bear to ask. His eyes were fixed on the thing before him. That codpiece must have rivalled King Henry the Eights. "I certainly hope not", Dr Fidelis answered, looking at the air, as if he was having traumatising flashbacks. "The people I sent the diagrams to requested a colour palette. I didn''t have anything in mind, other than it needing to be mainly white, but they didn''t take it as a valid answer! So, I had to do what we all must do in times of need, and reused¡­ an older palette, which I had lying around on the desk. To be more specific, it was the colours used in a joke, gag gift, which depicted a vomiting unicorn. Not the best thing to base things of, I realize now, but it was all I had at the time." What a terrible reason. Troy couldn''t bear the information, which he was being told. The colouring choices, once explained, just made too much sense. But, and this was a large but, why had they made the orange in a wavy pattern? And, down the stomach, at that! "So, now that you have seen the¡­ unique design of the skinsuit, can we get an acceptance or a rejection from your part?" Dr Hale asked, clearly not wanting to wait for Troy''s mental breakdown to restart itself. Troy wasn''t sure what to say. Not two minutes earlier, he had wholeheartedly stated that his dignity was non-existent and that wearing a full out skin suit would be of no hassle. Yet, now, seeing that such a grotesque thing could exist, phantom pains were beginning to appear. His dead dignity was haunting him from the grave, pleading him to reject the design before him. "I''m¡­ I am honestly not sure, what I can say about it", Troy said, unsure if his honest opinion about that abhorrent manifestation would be appreciated. "The design is something, which I have never observed with these eyes of mine." And, he had hoped to never really see it ever. Dr Fidelis did not take him up on his hints, taking it all with a grin. "I completely understand", Dr Fidelis began. Did he too, understand the skin suit horribleness? "At first, I was awed by the magnificence of it, as well. But, after some time, I finally understood." Seems that he didn''t, completely misunderstanding Troy''s very obvious intents. At this point, he had made his decision, yet again turning tables a full hundred and eighty degrees. While his dignity may have left this plane, Troy could always be in denial about it. Therefore, he had made the choice to refuse, no matter how saddened it would make Dr Fidelis. "Listen. I know, that you may have some expectations about my opinions when it comes to doing this thing. But, I need to make sure, that you-" "You''ll get a ten per cent raise in your wage to accompany wearing it." "Deal." Chapter 45: Disintermediation
Twenty dollars was twenty dollars. That was the excuse Troy kept telling himself, as he stepped into the puzzle room. It wasn''t the most accurate of excuses for his current getup. He was almost a hundred per cent sure, that he was getting more than twenty dollars out of this deal. But, really, it wasn''t the amount of money that mattered. It was the simple fact that he was getting paid for this. Something which Troy had been rather desperate for, these last few months. Now, when he thought about it, though, Troy did not need to worry too much about money, for the next short while. Even if he had lost most of what he had won against Francis in poker, he still had a sizable amount left in his pockets. They were in credits, though, so the currency couldn''t be used for anything outside of the shopping street. It wasn''t too much of an issue really, seeing as that street was the only place in this facility, where he could even spend any kind of money. As Troy lifted his knees a little higher than, what one usually needed to, while walking deeper into the white space, he felt something at the backside of his body. Something shifting slightly deeper into him. How unpleasant it was. Yet, that was partly his fault. He had been warned about the skin suit being designed for full skin contact. He should have listened to Dr Fidelis'' rather unique idea of stripping off completely. But, no, the way he was raised just needed to let itself get in the way of that. Troy was, for some reason, not comfortable with stripping down to his birthday suit in front of his co-workers. Down to the boxers was fine, though. With those still on he yet had some imaginary barrier against being completely looked at. But¡­ Now, that Troy had gotten the whole thing on, he honestly regretted not taking that last layer of, his mental barriers be damned. When he had first gotten his grubby hands on the suit, it had seemed overly large. As in, Troy could probably fit into the thing, without any part of his body touching the edges. A design feature to accommodate those not knowing how to properly put on clothes, Dr Hale had called it. Troy had called it being looked down upon. Though, if he had to be honest about it, the stretch out really did help him in getting the suit on. It was the stretch in, which Troy would forever dread. It had worked perfectly on the upper body, with him being able to move around without the skin suit even feeling like it was there. Yet, it also allowed no air to come in contact with his scan, letting him stay at a cosy temperature, while simultaneously not being too hot. It was a master craft. And, then came the bottom part. His boxers were too big, they said. He would absolutely feel it when it reverted to an operational state, they said. Why didn''t Troy listen? The utter horror of feeling your upper legs being restricted, by a fabric which you never thought would betray you, was a horrible feeling. When testing ended for the day, Troy would be having a word with Dr Fidelis about installing a curtain somewhere in the testing room. One which he could slide out when he needed to change. "God, what have I done?" Troy spoke out loud, not sure if he regretted his decision. ''I would like to be referred to as Adam. And, I am not sure, what exactly, you might have done. Could you explain your actions to me, and if they are the reasons for today''s delay in testing times?'', Adam said, a second or two after Troy''s self-doubting. The humour in the words did not fly by his head, and Troy chuckled a bit to himself. "It is not anything, you need to worry about", Troy assured Adam. "But, if you must know, the costume department has decided that the fashion choices needed a radical makeover." He flashed his colourful hands across his eyes, to illustrate his point. To Adam, they must have looked more than a small bit different from the last test''s, where they had been a pure black. Now¡­ Troy wasn''t even sure, which colours were on the gloves. All of them, couldn''t have been too far from the truth. At least they were comfortable. ''Are these costume-changes the reason for your lateness?'', Adam asked, carried on in his questioning. "Yes", Troy answered, with a slight grimness to his features. "While the discussion about these changes was short, they were also a small bit heated." ''That is understandable. Making difficult choices, with the best possible outcome, may take time for people, such as you.'', Adam sent. Was all of this planned? Had they all coordinated to diss the heck out of Troy today? Because all these unkind words seemed oddly regular. *Enough yabbering around about fashion choices, now! We have some testing to complete*, Dr Fidelis sent through the earpiece, stopping Troy from asking about any conspiracy theories. *Are both of you ready to receive today''s instructions?* If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "I''ve been ready for some time now", Troy stated, trying to get himself into a comfortable standing position. Somewhere in his mind, he just knew that he would be standing still for most of this test. *Noting down, that you''re good to start a few seconds earlier. And, Adam''s ready as well. Why don''t I just get started with this whole debacle, then?* Dr Fidelis said, sounding weird like he was ¡­ in motion? Like, the microphone on his end was picking up much more wind, than Troy had thought possible from a still position in an environment with no natural airflows. Was Dr Fidelis moving around? *You two might not realize how exciting this is for me.*, Dr Fidelis continued, making Troy shut up his thought and focus. *For the last year, I''ve had the technology to do this. But, I have never gotten permission to put it all to the test. Yes, it has all been certified for human use, of course. Otherwise, this would all get called a pure fire hazard. The amount of light inside that room you''re standing in, Troy, is enough to set a group of people ablaze. Oh, the power, that has just been laying around. And, the capabilities that have come with it. For so long, I simply was not able to figure out a good reason, for why I needed a guinea pig- I mean, valued assistant. Yet, now that Adam is up and kicking, I don''t need to make up some lame excuse about ethics, when a worthwhile reason came up all on its own. Now, after so long with this puzzle room on the low setting, I can finally put it on experimental mode. Don''t worry about the safety risks, by the name. It is totally safe. ¡­ You might want to hold your hands over your eyes, though. Just, you know, to be extra safe.* For some reason, Troy didn''t feel safe. As he held his hand over his eyes tightly, he debated with himself, if he really should be putting this much trust into his government. The simple fact that they gave a crazed man so many resources told him too much about their priorities. Dr Fidelis better be getting the Nobel prize after completing all of these tests, or Troy would be quitting out of frustration. Very briefly, Troy was able to see the veins on his hands, with light filtering through them, and a red filter added onto the waves. There had to be laws against this level of endangerment, right? ''Could you take your hands away? I would like to see the process of the modes being shifted.'', Adam sent to him. Troy did not even think about removing those hands of his. "Sorry, buddy", Troy said, unconsciously mimicking Dr Fidelis speech pattern. "But, I am not risking my already damaged eyesight, just so you can see a fancy light show. If you really need to see such dangerous things, I''ll pull up a few videos on the web for you." ''Your risk assessment is slightly unbalanced. Any light, which would damage your eyes, would not be stopped by your hands, and the gloves on them. Stopping yourself from seeing your surroundings is not having any effect, other than me unable to fully complete my data collection.'', Adam sent right back, with no hesitation. How he was able to fully explain his point, with no delay, was an ability, which Troy felt more than slightly jealous of. "I''m sorry to say, that I do not care, whatever your assessment of the situation might be," Troy said, ignoring any evidence, which Adam presented. "My lacking understanding of wavelengths is keeping me safe, for all I know. And, I would like to keep it that way. Therefore, I will only be removing these premium hands, at the moment, when Dr Fidelis gives me the okay." *Oh, you have been able to do that for, like, the last twenty seconds.*, Dr Fidelis said, through the earpiece, after hearing Troy finish his statement. *Honestly, I didn''t even realise that you were still holding your hands to your head. This omnidirectional camera steering is seriously messing with my two-dimensional screen.* Hearing Dr Fidelis not take the light show any more heed, Troy took it as an okay, to pull down his hands from his face. Yes, he would likely have done that much earlier, without suffering any consequences for it. But, he didn''t want to see the light, that made him able to see through his hand slightly, firsthand. Taking a quick glance around him, Troy saw nothing different. It was still just the endless void of complete white. The sound was also as dull as ever, with the only thing he could hear being his own, slow breathing. "So, the puzzle room is now in advanced difficulty?" Troy asked, not having listened too well on Dr Fidelis'' explanations. When he realized that the talk about what they would be doing today was delayed, his focus had been snapped away slightly, the aerodynamics of a cow seeming more interesting to think about. *Not any more difficult for you, per se, but much more difficult for me. Not that I''m complaining about that, for the record, I am absolutely loving the details, which I have control over now.* Dr Fidelis continued to rant, after having already answered Troy''s simple question in the first sentence. *Oh, the things I can do now. Are you getting tired of the white nothingness around you, Troy? Because I can fix that, with but a click. Boom. Now it''s grey. Boom. Now it''s black. Boom. Now, its- wait, no, nevermind, I''m getting warnings about changing the colours. I can still do it, of course, but I probably shouldn''t, if I want to keep the insurance on this thing. I''m changing it back to white, though. Can''t say, that I find any enjoyment with you being in complete darkness. There isn''t any purpose for that in a test, yet. Speaking of tests, I should probably start explaining the detail of this one, shouldn''t I? As I was bragging about just earlier, with these newly granted functions, I can change your surrounds drastically now. Forget just making a small puzzle appear. I can make everything detailed. I could make you stand on an infinite plain of grass and hills, feel the slight wind on your face, while the grass gives its trademark smell. I can easily do all that, with but a few clicks, and a single swipe. And, I will be doing so momentarily. You see, this test will be something, which could be best described as¡­ well, describing. During this test, variations of the earth''s natural environment will be shown around you. It will be Adam''s job to best relay his description of these environments to Troy, who will, word for word this time, write it down on a given writing screen. And, as a helper, you, Troy, will be writing down your own description beside his. Do both of you understand?* A flashback to an earlier moment, when going to lunch, Troy remembered Dr Fidelis going through various landscape pictures. Originally, he had bashed him mentally, for saying how hardworking he was while lazing the day away procrastinating during work-hours. But, it seemed like Dr Fidelis had had an actual reason for his actions. Who could have guessed that? When Troy had done something like it, he had just gotten himself yelled at? There still was one thing, which he was wondering about. "Almost. Got one question for you", Troy stated. "These landscapes. Will they be, like, folded two-dimensional projections?" *Thinking about it that way is wrong, but the meaning behind it still has some truth to it.*, Dr Fidelis quickly answered. *In technicality, everything you see in there, for the most part, is actually just two dimensional. When there''s only one person in there, it makes it possible to just beam the lights directly into your eyes, instead of painstakingly making the models line up with the more physical projections. Before you even got chosen as the assistant, we had actually planned to hire someone with one eye, just to make it easier on ourselves. But, that wouldn''t have worked out in the long-term, now, if we wanted to shift our ways to test even further if you know what I mean.* "I really don''t", Troy said. These things, with Dr FIdelis giving away too much information, was beginning to grind his nerves a slight bit. He could hear him laugh, through the earpiece, not making his sense of him any better. *Yeah, well, you know, that''s just, like, your opinion man.*, Dr Fidelis said. "That does not help me in understanding anything, that you said," Troy pointed out. "Mind explaining it a bit better again?" *That''s too bad*, Dr Fidelis said, sounding like he was enjoying it too much. *Cause I''m not answering any more questions. In fact, how about we just start this whole thing up.* God, Troy wanted to slap something lightly. Chapter 46: Redintegration
Adam was excited. Finally, after so long, he would be able to observe natural, earthly environments. Throughout prior conversations, he had heard many references to specific kinds of landscapes, environments, and differentiation methods. Now, with him being able to observe it, in an unambiguous structure, he would be able to cross-reference so many dead-ends. This, of course, was under the hypothesis, that the erudition gained in this test, would be to the same standard, as the real thing. But, Adam had the most surety in the puzzle rooms capabilities, after the enlightening explanation, which was fully orchestrated by Dr Fidelis. With Troy being rejected in his questioning, for the first time Adam had ever witnessed, it appeared like the test could finally begin. And, he got proof of this theory, when the traditional writing screen arrived before Troy''s eyes. The timing was off, though. Normally, the main test would appear, after which the writing screen would- Adam abruptly stopped himself, in the hopes, that he could analyze what was happening all around Troy better. Almost every square meter of the floor, which was more than a few meters away from Troy had begun bubbling. Not meant in the way, that they slowly began building. No, Adam meant it, in the way, that they rapidly grew upwards, before popping, making all sorts of colours spread around the blast radius. Some of the bubbles didn''t burst, though. Instead, they morphed from their purely spherical form, spreading out to all sorts of shapes. Some became more flattened, growing near infinitely many, hard corners. From the splattering bubbles, the now flattened shapes became coloured, with many nuances of brown. The dirt was nearly done being formed, creating a ground layer for everything else. This thin layer did not stop any of the bubbles from moving upwards, of course. The morphing began varying drastically, at this point. The first surfacing bubbles would turn into wide honeycomb-shaped webs. These webs would filter themselves together tightly in the middle of organized circles, getting looser and looser as they strayed from the centre. After another splashing bubble, they would turn into, what Adam could identify as small bushes and shrubs. But, most of the surfacing spheres would be clustered around something much more prominent, both in total mass and height. instead of filtering together, the bubbles would first simple sit upon one another, before other spheres would fill out all the air space between, making them look like crooked cylinders. They would further add the crust of the now seemingly wood-looking tree. The branches and leaves atop the trees were made with the same technique as the bushes but on a much larger scale. When Troy looked nearly directly upwards, Adam was able to see the massive weaves being stretched to create the most natural-looking detail, which he had ever seen. Granted, Adam had never seen such things before, but, if he had, he was sure, that the factor of realism, which this one possessed, would be at the peak. If he had had access to a microscope, Adam was sure, he wouldn''t have been able to find any fault with these designs of the landscape. While he wasn''t able to see far around, due to the sheer density of branches and trees blurring it all into one, this was likely the most accurate presentation of a natural environment, that Adam could have asked for. One problem, though. Troy in technicality wasn''t actually standing in any part of the visually impressing, fake forest. No, around them, in a radius of about two meters, there was nothing but the usual, bland white space. Not too much of a hassle. If the forest wouldn''t come to them, Adam could simply make Troy walk over to the forest. ''Troy. Could you please move closer to the forest landscape? I will rather have you in a position, where you can physically touch the textures.'', Adam sent out. Seeing the landscape was beautiful, and all. Nobody would want to deny that. Yet, while the eyes allowed access to so many things, it lacked function in other just as much. Details were forthcoming at any distance, but the level of details varied so wildly, that just hanging that job to the other senses would fit the position better. In the talk about senses, Adam was not able to use the nose to smell any part of the forest. Odd. The access to the nose was unhindered, after all. He was sure of his availability to detect Troy, at the very least. "Righto Bosio", Troy answered, putting a strange accent to his voice. Was this his natural accent, Adam wondered while waiting for Troy to close in on the figurative prey of being at the point, where he would be able to touch the forest. Adam had heard multiple people covering their accents, during the last twenty-four hours of operations. The reasons for this hiding were not yet fully realized. The current assumption was due to the lower level of efficiency one would have, while using it on others, who were not familiar with the accent. This theory did not make too much sense, seeing as the people observed in hiding their accents had been in the presence of assumed friends. Seeing as these acquaintances had if Charlie was to be believed as a worthwhile informant, been together as a regular group for nearly a decade at this time. This amount of time should have given the others plenty of time, to familiarize themselves with these particular types of accents. Yet, they haven''t. This threw some hints, at other, not yet completely formed theories of his. The first, which seemed most likely to be true, cast shade on the social contracts as a whole. Instead of working towards bringing equity to social situations, it actually worked towards- This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Not currently high-priority thoughts were flushed out, as Troy came within fifty centimetres of the goal. His farthest foot could reach over to the green forest floor, by now, but Troy stopped right before doing so. "Do you want me to stand on the stuff, or should I just touch it?" Troy said, asking for clarification on Adam''s already very clear orders. Well, technically not, seeing as he had only requested, that Troy move closer to the forest bed. Adam had not specified how close specifically, just that it was close enough for Troy to touch it, with an unspecified part of his body. ''Your current position will satisfy the ongoing study. While in this spot, can you please reach your hand to the lowest point of the forest? Don''t dig in the dirt, but just graze your hands across the surface.'', Adam further requested, with the last bit added as a precaution Troy just shrugged, as an acknowledgement to his request. Adam didn''t think of it as the most effective communication method but worked for its simple purpose, so he couldn''t complain too much more than he already was. As Troy slowly raised his hand, reaching over to the forest ground, Adam''s excitement began rising exponentially, his thoughts beginning to play a game of upping each other. His expectations were immense. What would Adam be able to describe touching the surface as? Obviously, he would describe it as rough, cold, and slightly moist. Yet, as of right now, he wouldn''t truly know, what all of these words meant together, what they combined themselves to feel like. Sure, Adam had felt each kind separated to different instances, but, never had he felt them, like he soon would. The hand was now mere centimetres away from coming out of the radius of white, and into the much more colourful area of simulated forest. Adam couldn''t wait for the texture of- Troy''s outreached hand hit an invisible barrier, making the joints crack from the sudden pressure. "Dammit! That hurt", Troy said, quickly retracting his pain-filled fist, and lightly massaging the knuckles on it, using his other hand. "What the heck was that?" The earpiece''s radio came on again, proclaiming Dr Fidelis'' entrance into the current conversation. *Hey, again, you too.*, Dr Fidelis started up, clearly not liking enjoying the words he was going to be saying. *I can see that you''re trying to get a better feel for the magnificent environment around.* Adam decided that putting all of the weight of the speaking over to Troy would be a bad idea, in this particular situation. Though, this could also be due to his current more than mild anger, at not being allowed to perform, at the level which he desired. ''Dr Fidelis, you see it through the suit correctly'', Adam informed Dr Fidelis. As a quick side note, he really wanted some more information about that suit, which Troy was sporting. There hadn''t been anybody coming with information about it, leaving Adam with a blank on how it functioned. As of now, he had reasonably guessed that it would take over the other functions of the now-scrapped recording equipment. Nothing more, than that had been verified. *I guessed it would be so*, Dr Fidelis said, continuing to speak through the earpiece, instead of their standard communication methods of sending messages through pure text form. *I have some bad news, about this little endeavour of yours.* "Am I supposed to be understanding, what you''re saying?" Troy asked out of the blue. It would make sense that he would ask such a thing, seeing as he did not have half the needed context to understand the context. ''I''m speaking to him. Don''t trouble yourself about it.'', Adam quickly sent over to Troy, before getting back on focusing completely on Dr Fidelis. ''Could you elaborate on this bad news, which you have to deliver to us?'', Adam asked, knowing full well, that Dr Fidelis was simply delaying his speech, for his so-proclaimed dramatic pauses, something Adam detested him for. *Sure. This test of ours is designed for the simple purpose of you describing the environment around you. This not-so-complex target has made this test, what could be best described as¡­ low on budget.*, Dr Fidelis said. ''Your explanation, of the target of this test, only makes it more viable to make the forest touchable. If not, how am I expected to explain the texture of it as best as possible?'', Adam sent right back. *Focus on the last part of my clarification now, buddy. The test is low in its budget.*, Dr Fidelis continued. *If you would ask my opinion about it, you would be right in your argumentation. This test shouldn''t be limited to near-sight only while showing itself off as you describe the environment through all your senses. But, this, and the other environment with this test has not been designed with the purpose of being touched. I could certainly put down the barriers stopping you from coming in proximity to the projections. That would be easy. What would not be as easy, would you try to touch the objects. Troy''s hands would just fizzle through them, maybe even with a mild sunburn accompanying it. Does this clear things up with you?* It did. But, not in the way, Adam wanted it to end up with. Preferably, it should have concluded with him getting access to the multiple senses when it related to the forest around him. Yet, he wasn''t giving up on his aspirations yet. ''In the near future, would it be possible for me to get a firsthand impression, of an actual plant, instead of these lacklustre imitations? Through Troy, of course. I will gladly try to conclude this test of yours if this moderate demand is met.'', Adam sent to Dr Fidelis, taking after an argumentation method, which Troy had used on him last night. *You drive a bargain, which I can''t say no to, for the sake of my job*, Dr Fidelis simple stated. *Deal. Now, get on with it.* The earpiece cut out, signalling Dr Fidelis'' disconnection. This argumentation-method was surprisingly effective. Yet, it left a negative impression on the recipient for some reason. It needed further analysis before Adam would think about using it in regular conversation. Back to the testing. Troy had sat himself down on his bottom and was making himself useful by examining any damage on his hand. Or, he was just examining his hand, as a regular thing. On the first inspection, Adam couldn''t see, what Troy was finding so interesting about looking at his hand for several minutes at a time. From what he saw, nothing was physically wrong with it. All joints were able to twist themselves to the standard angles, some even more than that. So, why was Troy continuing do twist them around even further, using his other hand? From the feedback of senses, Adam could tell that I slightly hurt, at some points. Was this some form, of accelerating healing in joints? ''What are you doing?'', Adam sent to Troy. The reaction to this message was not the standard, with Troy''s legs twitching from the unexpected message to the point where he lifted himself from the ground, for a moment before falling down yet again. Even the pulse heightened itself for a moment, ready to move quicker than Adam would likely ever see Troy do. After a quick look around though, Troy slowly exhaled his pent up breath, his pulse steadily falling intact with his current lung contents. "Nothing. I was just bored, so I messed with my fingers a bit," Troy answered, the words honestly astounding Adam. "Is your conversation with Dr Fidelis finally over? I wasn''t too sure if you two were still communicating over some other line, so I just kept quiet, as was asked of me. Cause, you know, I''m great with doing that." The last part, Adam currently ignored, more in favour of focusing on the answer, which Troy presented, to his question. Did he hurt himself, in the name of being bored? How did that make any sense? In what way, did being in a specific, semi-neutral mental state correlate with wanting to hurt oneself, with no strings attached? Why not try to improve spatial awareness? Focusing on a subject, such as that, seemed much more productive, as a use of one''s time. ''Yes, it is over. Are you ready to start the test in earnest?'', Adam sent over. "I thought we had done that a while ago, but, sure, I''m as ready as I''ll ever be." Chapter 47: Autointoxication
Took long enough, Troy had thought to himself. He wasn''t too sure himself, what he was currently thinking. Putting enough effort into trying to remember seemed wasted, in comparison to simply procrastinating the time away. Or, would it be called procrastination, if the time off had been ordered? He wasn''t sure, and debating it seemed too hard. Just looking at his hands seemed much more fun, and certainly took less effort on Troy''s part. Just tracing the length of his veins, kept his mind occupied up to the level, where the mind would wander towards another subject while keeping the mental pressure as low as was humanly possible. But, such dedication to not working would have to be put on the backburner. Adam had come back from his discussion with Dr Fidelis, making any chance of not working to the grave. Troy got himself off the floor, much to the dismay of the joints in his legs. At this age, they shouldn''t be so abrasive in their opinions, but Troy had certainly done something in the last couple of days, which upset them. ''Do a quick look around, where you try to focus on all three grounds of perspective.'', Adam said trough the brain implant. This request dumbfounded Troy. "What do you mean, three grounds of perspective?" Troy asked, having a definite need for clarification. ''Foreground, middle ground, and background. Try to focus on different distances, which you can see ahead. This will help me in getting a clearer mind map, of the spatial locations, which we are residing in.'', Adam constructively informed him. So, Troy just needed to look up and down in a straight line, trying to not turn his head at all? Sounded easy enough. He proceeded to do his best impression of a primitive searching algorithm, focusing on every conceivable part of the forest. It wasn''t any fun to do so, but it wasn''t hard either, so Troy didn''t really find any ground to whine about it. The task was concluded after a small while, and Troy just stood still, in bliss with the momentary pause. "What now?" Troy asked. "Do you want another go at-" ''Quiet'', Adam ordered. That was unusual of him. Usually, Adam would at be least a little polite, when asking him to shut the hell up. "The ones, who try to be accepted into society say please when they ask for the silence of others," Troy began saying, not taking heed of Adam''s more strict kind of request. "Making others ignore their personal free speech is incredibly hard when the person ordering them around is making such-" ''I believe that when you accepted this job, you also agreed to follow all of my requests, as long as they had something to do with the current test. My request of your tongue not moving is one of such class.'', Adam said, again stopping Troy from speaking fully. So, the efficient piece of electronic brainpower needed some silence to think things through? Fine, Troy would obey, like the little, pretty assistant that he was. Didn''t even have any problem, with being straight up told to be quiet, so others could focus on anything other than him. Nuh-uh, no problem at all. And, frankly, even thinking such a thing about him was scandalous, Why, Troy had half a mind to just begin shouting a the bastard, who- A chirp came from his right. The inner hyping to throw a temper tantrum was immediately stopped, instead replaced with confusion. "Wasn''t this forest meant to be low quality, in the details?" Troy questioned, noting that he wasn''t immediately silenced by Adam. "Why the hell are there birds here?" ''My thoughts exactly.'', Adam sent back, not chastising Troy for his talking. That must have meant, that he was interested in the reasons as to why as well. The chirping picked up the volume, making Troy wonder how he hadn''t heard it earlier. The high tones coming from it was piercing his ears in just the wrong way, making his facial features cringe. ''Don''t waste your time trying to ignore it.'', Adam said, with Troy easily making the distinction of, where the voice was coming from. When sound came from the brain implant, it seemed weirdly deafening to all the others. It wasn''t overpowering, in the way that it was loud. No, it kinda just made the other voices seem lower compared to it. How hadn''t Troy noticed this before? He used to regularly hear music using it, and this kind of feature would have been excellent then. And, where the hell was the chirping coming from? When Troy thought it came from the left, he would turn his head accordingly, before realizing that it was behind him. On the process would go, with the sound coming from anywhere, where he wasn''t looking. "Do you have any idea, where this little birdie of ours is at?" Troy asked Adam, his search not stopping. "I can''t seem to catch it with my eyes." ''First, of, this hypothetical bird is not of our possession. Second, I do not believe that there is any bird to be found.'', Adam sent back. This confused Troy. Could Adam not hear the very obvious bird noises? "Then¡­ where exactly is the sound coming from, if not the bird?" Troy said, putting Adam''s statements into questioning. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ''I believe that they are randomly generated, from an outside source. Most likely Dr Fidelis.'', Adam said. "And, why would Dr Fidelis do that?" ''The most probable reasons were explained to us just a few minutes ago. The problem with this test is the limited work, which has been put into it. This small budget, and the detail that comes with it, has forced Dr Fidelis to be creative in his design choices. Before, when I complained about the eyes being the only worthwhile, and usable, the sense in this test, he must have decided to change that fact, by adding in something for us to hear. Therefore, the bird calls appeared just after our conversation with Dr Fidelis, which makes this theory even more probable. But, again, just because there are the sounds of a bird, does not mean that there is an actual, simulated bird flying around us. It is merely meant to seem like it. Which is poorly done, now that I have gotten more data on the sound design. Dr Fidelis has clearly made it, so looking at where the source is supposed to be completely impossible. While this might work with some other sounds or environments, like dripping in a cave system, it does not work, when, in reality, the movements should be physically impossible. I expect, that there is no bird on this planet, which can move in a circle around you, with no starting momentum, in less than half a second.'', Adam full out explained. The reasoning was solid, and Troy didn''t want to look further into it than that. Putting a few last attempts at seeing this maybe non-existent feathery, creature, he finally gave up, before the quick movements would make his neck hurt. "So¡­ we just ignore the non-existent bird, and move on with our lives, as in, during the actual test?" Troy asked. "Because, I''m beginning to realize, that we haven''t done much of the original objective yet, and we should probably start on it soon." ''Do not worry about our time expenditure too much. All of our current actions can easily be filed down as ''extensive analysis'', depending on Dr Fidelis'' mood during the debriefing.'', Adam said. "No need to macro analyse everything about an unrelated event, now. Just get on with the description of the environment, like you were supposed to do, from the very start", Troy lithely complained. He had another go at sounding commanding, but he still felt like it sounded more akin to a teenager breaking his voice over and over again. ''Very well. One moment.'', Adam sent, before going silent. Troy wondered, why he hadn''t waited to answer until he had set up a full description. During the complicated work of the previous tasks had taken less than a second. So, why was that not the same here? Was it more complicated? Troy would have to define, what complicated was, in this instance. To himself, trying to analyze every thought a person has, purely from the way their left ear moved forward seemed impossible to him. Yet, to Adam, it must have been as easy as figuratively breathing, seeing as he didn''t even hesitate when answering questions like that. But, here, the answer didn''t come even nearly as fast. Troy could have given a reasonable description of the landscape himself, at this point. And, he had, having written it down on his side of the description-filled tablet for writing. It wouldn''t be close to having gotten top grades, but it wouldn''t have been too terrible either. The difference between the two became highlighted at this point. While Troy was terrible at the analysis of body language and mediocre at describing landscapes, Adam was phenomenal in inspecting the fine language of the body and absolutely slow at this. This was not a negative at all. Troy would never call it that. It was just a reminder, that some people, or entities for that matter, were not created perfectly, and that we all had- ''You should just begin writing, as soon as my description begins. I can already guess that you will not be able to remember all of it. Here it begins. At first glance, the main character of this environment can be its use of the colour green. Yet, after closer inspection, the truth is realized. The same colour never shows itself again. Nuances will only seem similar to the untrained eye, and the whole spectrum can show itself with time inside this place. It is only our restriction of placement, which stops us from realizing this. Nothing here is symmetric. This is normally categorized, as a negative thing. But, in this instance, it showcases a form of beauty normally untamed. Pure, undaunting chaos. Nothing here is set in order. It is all there by chance. It can live. It can die. The world around it will live on. But, in this landscape, there is shown an important attribute of all nature. Unknown corporation. In the simple minds of all the celled organisms here, their personal survival is the forefront of their thoughts. Anything else comes second to this goal. With that mindset, it should have all been razed into chaos, with all dying due to selfishness. Yet, that isn''t so. For in nature, only those who learn to live with the balance survive. The nutrients in the dirt get slowly sucked up by the trees and the plants. The unseen animals consume these nutrient-filled entities, drawing the cycle of life one more step. They then perish, like all things, putting all they have taken right back down to the earth, restarting the whole cycle yet again. And, the sounds of this forest is nothing to bark at either. It is full of unique sounds if one has the right attributes to hear them. The most obvious would be the gentle and soothing bird calls, natural communication at its finest point. Fine-tuned tunes, delivering long messages, in a short time, over long distances. Another fine sound could be the wind, delicately or fiercely, moving through the air, pushing away everything in its path. A gust of wind sings a song of history, which we will never fully grasp, with our ears only. We can learn so much else about this environment. We can describe the texture of the delicate ground, the beautiful leaves, or even the rough tree bark. But, as always, time is finite. Time will make the moment change. It is only through the impossible concept of infinity, that we can fully grasp a single instant of time. Yet, that is beyond us, limiting us to only, what we can observe in retrospect. That is all. Want me to repeat it?'', Adam ended it off with. And, sometimes Troy was oh so wrong, that he just felt like skydiving off the floor, without a parachute in sight. Some entities were just perfect, at all they did, no matter the time it took them to complete it. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn''t too sure if the time taken would be as long next time. Getting exponentially faster was something, which Adam had showcased before. How depressing. "Yes," Troy said, beginning to type in, what he remembered. Adam had told him to do so, at the start, but his expectations of the length had been slightly lower, than what it had turned out to be. "Slower this time, please." ''Slower, as in more pauses between the individual words, or, as in, pauses between the individual paragraphs?'', Adam asked. Troy wasn''t even going to try, and think about how he knew when there was a new paragraph. "Both choices sound too good to pass up," Troy answered. "If we do it that way, we might just be able to finish it up, in one repeat." This couldn''t be called anything close to efficient, with Troy having to relay everything Adam said. Every single mistake Troy made, of which there was plenty, further delayed the whole answer by another ten seconds. This added up to way too much time wasted. Why couldn''t Adam just get access to the screen, and write on it himself? Would it really be so hard to do? It sounded simple, to Troy. Just hook it up the same way Adam was hooked up to him. Wait, no, that wouldn''t work. The writing screen probably didn''t have the same input features, or any, for that matter. It was only designed for physical touch, so why would it need anything more? Troy needed another conversation with Dr Fidelis when he got the chance. Or, when he remembered it. He had been missing so many missing conversations with people lately. Troy had an immense backlog, which needed to be sorted out before he began adding even more onto it. Finally, after too long a time spent proofreading, Troy finalized Adam''s answer, making the screen disappear briefly, before reappearing, with the screen blank, like at the start. The environment disappeared too, but in a much more¡­ extreme manner. It collapsed on itself, becoming an amorphous bound of various colours. If not for the barriers, which stopped the environment and Troy from interacting, they would have been overwhelmed with it all. Waves began appearing, at first being small, but steadily growing larger and larger. It came to a point, where Troy was sure, that the sheer pressure of the liquid would shatter the barrier, but it never did. Most likely, because it wasn''t designed to do so, but Troy didn''t put too much thought into that perspective. Over time, something like a maelstrom began appearing, with Troy at the dead centre, able too upwards to see the very realistic, simulated sky. At the same time, the liquid began changing colours, from darker nuances of green to various shades of light blue. Troy was beginning, to realize, what he was seeing transpire before him. An ocean was appearing before him. And the surface was long above him. "This isn''t fun, at all", Troy muttered, his not so mild thalassophobia beginning to kick in. The knowledge, that you would soon be buried in water, simulated or not, was a disturbing thought. ''I do not believe fun is meant to be the main function of this test.'', Adam said, as informatively as ever. Troy felt the need to give an answer, which was on that same level. "No shit." Chapter 48: Disincorporation
Whatever was below PTSD; Troy had it. His body shuddered as the things, which he had seen, rapidly running through his mind, with no end in sight. It had been hell. A wet hell. Then, a cold hell. After that, a hot hell. The test had just been getting on and on and on. Troy thought it would never stop. With the amount of time wasted at each environment being well over ten full minutes, one would surmise there being a general maximum of twelve or so environments. It couldn''t go on for longer than that, without violating some worker''s rights... right? Troy realized how wrong his assumption had been when they neared fifteen full descriptions. But, then, it would likely end at the clean twenty cuts, of course. No chance of it going longer than that! ¡­ right? Wrong. The number of total minutes gone through, to finally end the suffering, which Adam had referred to as ''completely testing'', had been over four hours worth of minutes. Any normal test only took two hours, plus-minus thirty minutes. If they expected him to go inside any more today, they would be getting something, which Troy would refer to as a ''polite declining.'' Gruesome, he knew As he stepped out of the puzzle room and making sure, that he had actually gone out of it, by touching the metal railing, his shoulders finally relaxed. They had been so tense, since the ocean at the very start. Troy just knew he would be paying for his tenseness tomorrow morning. Standing the bottom of the few steps, which Troy needed to go down, to reach the floor, was Dr Fidelis, looking more than a bit sheepish. "Good work, in there", Dr Fidelis said, putting an appreciative voice on. It wasn''t effective. . "I just knew you could do it." Troy didn''t bat an eye, at the way he was currently acting. Already, he had played this exact scenario through his mind countless times. During the test, of course, and not in the few seconds of silence that passed. His mind wasn''t up to such things anymore "Your last sentence implies, that you knew that this would happen", Troy accused him, as he took the first step down the short stairs. His tone was eerily calm. Could it be called¡­ the calm before the storm? ¡­ No? "I suspected it," Dr Fidelis defended. "With the lowered senses, which could be analyzed, I didn''t think Adam would be spending too much time on each environment. There shouldn''t have been enough data to occupy him for so long." "Yet, he did," Troy threw right back, taking the second step down the stairs. At this point, with one step left, the two were equal in height, their eyes meeting. "Mind explaining why?" The slightly uncomfortable face, on Dr Fidelis, vanished, replaced with gleeful appreciation. Troy just knew he had messed the suspense up when he asked him an analytical question. "Well, buddy, there could, in fact, be several great reasons, for why Adam took so long", Dr Fidelis proclaimed, any prior uncomfortableness wiped cleanly off the mind. "As the first guess, I''m thinking, that he was double, or even triple, checking every single thing around him. This theory does have some basis in the intentional design of the environments. The simulations, which you saw, weren''t even close to being static. They flowed, with some part always moving, just like it would be in real life. No looping animations were present anywhere. To my knowledge, this isn''t something Adam has ever experienced before, so it is a great reason for his more than slow time-taking in each landscape if you can call them that. Another theory could have been his frustrations, with not being able to use your other senses, when the inspection was taken on the simulations. The mentions of sight and hearing were the main methods used, in the descriptions made by Adam, which further proves the point. Throughout the test, I''m thinking, that you did get some rather unusual requests from him. I still don''t understand what you were told, when you began shouting about tow jocks helping you file a big quiz. But, I''m just filling those eccentricities down as ''unusual learning methods''. And, there is, of course, a final reason, for why Adam took so long, in the testing environments. I''ve even put it into a graph, just for my own pleasure. Through most of the test, Adam wasn''t analysing the environments, Troy. He was analysing you. The suit, which you''re still fashionably sporting, measures everything we can scan, as stated before. It puts it all in nice little graphical collages, for me and Dr Hale''s viewing pleasures. During the test, other things get put in graphs as well. Its mostly inconsequential stuff, like how many breaths you take, how many steps, how many times you scratch your¡­ nose. Things that we don''t have to worry too much about. But, more general things get put in too. The most important of which is the timing on, how long Adam takes to answer the questions. Here, there comes a pattern. In each environment, where anything about you rises, Troy, the amount of time it takes for the segment to be completed increases just as much. In the beginning, I surmised this to be a fault of your making. Nervous people don''t act as quickly as those who are calm. And, that was true in your case as well. But, it didn''t hold up to the level that the segment was being delayed. Something else was making Adam take longer in his processing. That was where it all came together. With so little to think about, with the few senses, that Adam had in his utility, he decided to focus more on you, Troy, than on the things you saw and heard. You turned out to be more interesting, than the literal sea''s of content, which Adam had at his disposal. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Now, isn''t that just interesting? It''s why I''m putting my bets, on the last one being the true reason." Dr Fidelis'' words made Troy hesitate in an immediate comeback, his desire to shape the atmosphere to the earlier suspenseful mood ruined. The amount of information, which Dr Fidelis had about his actions were beginning to be staggeringly obvious. He now knew more about Troy than he did about himself. Should he be scared, due to that? If Troy, at this moment, while wearing the suit, lied to him, would Dr Fidelis be able to tell it? Could he pull up a few statistics on his screen, cross-reference it with earlier tests, and find out the validity of it? The thought of it was spine-chilling. Troy needed to get himself out of this thing? "Sure," Troy said, trying very hard not to react to his own thoughts too much, "Is there any way, that I could get myself a private place, to put this on next time? You two were right, in these boxers being too large for the suit." Dear Apollyon, the last two hours had been terrible. Halfway through the test, Troy had done himself in by taking a quick stretch, to get his limbs back to normal functionality. During this stretch out, he had leaned forward, making the skin suit force the boxers to find a new place to be. Troy had been forced to continue wearing the suit for another two hours. But, now, he finally had the means to get the thing off. He just needed Dr Fidelis to press a button, which wasn''t at Troy''s disposal, and the whole thing would stretch, making it possible for him to easily get out of it. Dr Fidelis knew exactly, what kind of pain Troy was in, and he was showing how much humour he found in it, on his face. "Really?" Dr Fidelis asked, with mock shock. "What reasoning do you have, for such a request? Do you not find your current inner-attire to be as comfortable, as you previously thought it would be? Was our, professionally-backed advice actually not just personal opinion, and was instead a straight-out fact about the design?" He was enjoying it a bit more than Troy liked it. Yet, he had expected this exact reaction to coming from him. "We can have it installed overnight", Dr Hale finally said, after Dr Fidelis couldn''t hold himself together enough, to actually answer. "It can be filed down as a ''generally-required work amenity'', and the budget won''t have to take the hit. It will be fully paid for, by management." "Are you sure that we can do that again, Dr Hale?" Dr Fidelis asked, getting out of his happy daze unusually quick. It showed that he could have done so, at any point in time, but just didn''t do so. "After the last structural build, do you think they will just let a bot approve anything, which we sent their way?" Dr Hale looked over her older notes, before nodding in affirmation. "If we use some of the more confusing language algorithms, they won''t have any choice, but to send it over to their bots. From previous instances, it does not seem like they have cracked our current code yet," Dr Hale stated. Troy was not too sure that their current conversation was up to his personal standards, of what should be discussed during legal work hours, but maybe that was just him. "Splendid work", Dr Fidelis said, before taking his attention back on Troy. "We might just be able to manage it for tomorrow. I can already say, that we will be doing more tests than usual. We have a tight schedule set up, and we''re already behind." What a shame. Nothing to do about it. Troy went slightly over to the side, ready for Dr Fidelis to release him from his personal, tightly held hell. "Yet¡­", Dr Fidelis said. He already knew he wouldn''t like, what would be said. "Maybe, if we just do another test, right now, we could-" "Sorry to break in again, sir", Dr Hale cut in, not sounding sorry at all. "But, due to the longer amount of time, which Troy resided inside the puzzle room, he is legally not allowed inside for another¡­ eight hours, where, at least, two hours have been spent sleeping." This seemed to dishearten Dr Fidelis, yet also excite Troy as well. The law had protected him, yet again. "How terrible," Dr Fidelis said. His face didn''t show off the disappointed face, which Troy had planned for, though. It showed a face¡­ which was deep in thought. "Well, you heard the lady, Troy. Get out of your silly costume, and get to bed." He was planning something! Troy just knew it. Dr Fidelis pulled out the remote, which he had used before, pointing it at Troy. A button was pressed, and his suit released it held over him, with a slight mechanical hiss. Oh, how Troy just wanted to sag down in relief. It took all of his willpower to stay standing, and not slap his body into a puddle on the ground. ¡­ Nevermind. The invitation of not using his legs was simply too alluring. His body disobeyed him, untighten all the muscles in his body, and falling to the ground because of it. He had been hoping to hold up his feeble facade of confidence. Yet, all just seemed to be against Troy today. "Please control yourself, Dr Fidelis", Troy heard Dr Hale say from the side. It didn''t take a genius to figure out, what was happening out of his peripheral. And, he couldn''t even blame him too much. Troy would have laughed at a half-naked man falling to the ground in a bundle as well. At least, Dr FIdelis had the decency of not making his laughs too pronounced from behind him. "Of course", Dr Fidelis nearly stuttered, loudly trying to cough his giggles away. "Do get up now, Troy. When I say, that you need to get yourself some sleep, I am hinting at you sleeping in your bed, and not just on the floor. Trust me, now. I''ve slept on this floor before, myself, and it does not take mercy on your joints." Troy should just continue his laying. His bed did not change its opinion to letting his back off. Nevertheless, after some more angry mumbling, Troy did get off the ground. He shook the last bits of the skinsuit off himself, with some very creative leg wriggling. Seeing Troy finally get up on his two feet again, Dr Hale looked at her watch, before noting down the time. "Troy", Dr Hale began her statement, sounding more irritated than her usual tone of voice would normally allow. "Was your head-first diving to the cold floor strategically planned? And, if so, what did you plan to get out of doing so?" She was the one chastising Dr Fidelis for her behaviour, yet she was no better herself, tormenting Troy for things which he couldn''t do anything against. "I can''t reasonably say, that I planned on giving myself red marks today", Troy answered as a bitter remark. "Not from the hard ground, at the very least." Dr Hale noted down something Troy could see was only a three-letter word, before giving a nod to Dr Fidelis, to show she was done. "The suit may have to be loosened slightly", Dr Hale said. "While it is not by a massive amount, there is likely a notable pressure to his skin, making circulation harder for the muscles, once the suit is taken off. This may work against us in¡­ future tests." This made Dr Fidelis'' expression harden more by a smaller amount. How terrible it all was when it would hinder future tests! Troy felt a small bit betrayed, with how little care there was for him. "How long, at an estimate, before the tightness of the suit become problematic?" Dr Fidelis asked. "More than six hours of continuous use will cause momentary loss of leg use, while the skinsuit is still attached. Blood flow will simply be too hindered," Dr Hale answered. When exactly were they planning to have him use that damned suit for more than six hours, at a time? Four hours had nearly made Troy lay down while the test was ongoing. Any more, and he would be falling over from the sheer amount of time it would take. "That wouldn''t turn out good," Dr Fidelis said, as a matter of factly. "It''s settled, then. We''ll just have to do a little slave labour level of work and make the designers work a little overtime overnight. I''m sure they won''t mind when we throw a few bonuses their way. Can we make management pay for that, as well?" "I''m not sure, sir," Dr Hale said. "We''ll have to check the manuals for that." "That''ll take a lot of the time we have left. Troy, you can go. Be sure to get some sleep." He didn''t need any more approval, hastily taking on his clothes, and getting the heck out of there. Troy did not want to be there, while they did questionably legal things. Had he really been getting the good end of the deal, with those two as his superiors? Chapter 49: Prestidigitation
His body hurt. His body ached. And, worst of all, his body was tired. If it would make it all so much worse, Troy wouldn''t mind going to sleep in the hallway. He would even get a natural wake up alarm out of it. Other people were designated as natural¡­ right? God, Troy hoped it would be so. Genetically created human-shaped monsters were still right out in the future. At least, the current one''s were made by accident, according to his sources. Anyway, Troy''s inner distraction needn''t distract him now! He was so close. Soon, his bed could welcome him, and bring him the numbness of a sleeping mind. Yet, would the bed let his body be in a better state, after the customary eight hours of turning around? Troy decided to be positive in his opinion, and hoping for the best, yet he knew that, what he was currently feeling, was only the beginning. The main course would only come tomorrow. Tonight would only be the customary appetizer. Taking another turn, Troy saw the holy grenade of bombs, which could have been dropped on him, without him caring a single bit about it. Just ahead of him, not much more than fifty meters, the hallway to the personal rooms resided. He couldn''t have been happier about it. Even his aches disappeared for just a moment as if to appreciate the number of endorphins currently running throughout him. Troy wished they would have stayed away for more, yet it seemed that such happy moments only came once a year. Or, was it even that regular? It didn''t matter. Nothing about that mattered. What mattered was the goal in front of him. In fewer than a hundred steps, Troy would be able to fall directly down and be met by the cushy softness of his bunk. Even the thought of it made his legs flutter in anticipation. Wait. No. Nevermind. The fluttering was already there, no matter, what he was thinking. The corner was reached, and right inside the hallway, Troy went. It was only a matter of going inside the right door now. He counted the ones he went by, just to be sure, how long he had left. "Nineteen hundred and thirty-five. Nineteen hundred and thirty-seven. Nineteen hundred and thirty-nine," Troy nearly mumbled, his tongue not working at optimal efficiency. It did not impede him too much, though. As long as he himself still understood, what he was saying, everything would work out just fine. "Nineteen hundred and forty-one. Nineteen hundred and forty-four. Nineteen hundred and forty-six", Troy continued. At this point, he wasn''t even looking at the number, instead just taking a quick glance to confirm the existence of a door. With this less movement costly system, Troy may have miscounted a few doors, maybe even count a few doors several times, but it didn''t matter too much. By now, it was just a more general view of his progress. "Nineteen hundred and seventy-four. Nineteen hundred and seventy-six. Nineteen hundred and, no, wait, stop." Something went wrong in Troy''s counting right there, but he couldn''t think through what it was. Was it the miscounting? He double-checked the last few numbers. ¡­ No, the numbers were right. Eerily accurate actually. Troy had not expected something like that of himself. Yet, looking at the numbers just made his brain ring the alarm bells even more? Why would his brain do such a thing? Didn''t it realise how loud those things were? Troy decided it would just be better to move forward and ignore the growing headache, caused by his concentration deprived mind. "Nineteen hundred and ninety-one. Nineteen hundred and ninety-three¡­" It was at about twenty-two hundred, that Troy realized what his room number even was, and was forced to actually backtrack, much to the incredible discomfort of his body. It had been promised quiet salvation, yet Troy had betrayed it by taking such a long time, and not even being finished. In retaliation, the vibration had begun growing exponentially. Troy did not think it would be too long before he began phasing trough the solid matter around him. Finally, after too long of a time had passed, Troy finally reached his own, personal door. It didn''t stand out physically from the others, but, mentally, to Troy, it was a piece of plastic, which was worthy to be crowned by the royalty. On the other side of that door, the true throne of the man sat, ready to be lied down upon. Troy didn''t want to let it wait too long, forcing his legs to give their very last kick into getting him atop the magnificent piece of engineering. The legs creaked slightly, as Troy put down his full weight upon it. Yet, he just couldn''t care less, as he sighed in relief, the pressure on his legs, near-instantly vanishing, and the pain going away with it. His body was still tired, but, for now, Troy could bear it. Now, after too long, he could finally just lie down, close his eyes, and get ready for the new day tomorrow, by not thinking about it until the last conceivable moment. ¡­ Speaking of tomorrow, what had he planned? Too early in the morning, his alarm clock would surely ring its awful tones, alerting him to the soon-to-be breakfast time. He would clean himself up, and get ready to the point, where he wouldn''t get put in jail for being too detestable. Then, after a mediocre breakfast portion, of his own choosing, he would go over, with Dr Hale at his side, ready to start the test. Here Dr Fidelis had free rein over the kind of torture, which Troy would get put over for a few hours. At least, tomorrow would be as bad as today. The skinsuit would be made a little better for tomorrow, and Troy wouldn''t get himself in this sorry state again. It was a shame, that the people had to work overnight, just so they could repair that shoddy piece of- The earpiece! A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Troy bolted upwards, his abs nearly groaning in protest. He had forgotten about that damn earpiece, which still innocently sat on the table beside his bed. Troy needed to hand it over to Dr FIdelis, as the first thing he did tomorrow. This meant that, as of now, he still had something to do today. Troy had to make up a convincing lie, which would make Adam help him in his endeavour. He would have to lie to the entity, which could accurately guess most outright lies. Fun and easy to a masochist, which Troy certainly didn''t see himself as. Reaching over to the earpiece, his shoulders hurt from it. After getting this done, any movement would be illegalized by himself. Troy took a brief look at the earpiece. His choice of giving it over to somebody, who could repair it, seemed to have been the correct choice after all. The earpiece was by no way unusable, yet it still had suffered a few¡­ damages, over the brief period of intense use. The earlier sheen of light refracting on it had been replaced with a more grey overtone, with the amount of light mirrored on it lessened. Zep''s earlier comment on it being dirty certainly wasn''t true, but the overall quality of it had sunken down to less than stellar levels. A sigh of exhaustion came out unwillingly, now that no further delays could be explained away. Troy needed to do this now, or he would never have the time for it again. The earpiece was put on, and Adam''s voice was heard throughout his field of hearing. ''Are we doing another test today?'', Adam asked, sounding as if, he hadn''t yet cared to overlook Troy''s surroundings. Or, maybe he had, and just had some higher expectations of the puzzle room, than Troy himself had about it. He would never know. "We are doing some kind of a test", Troy amended. "Yet, we are technically not doing it now. This, my friend, is simply a precursor of information, for a test, which we will probably have in the near future." Nothing was an obvious lie, so he had some amount of trust in himself. Now, it would only take- ''You are lying.'', Adam simply stated. Troy''s reaction was perfectly natural, with him trying to look mildly confused, yet also not too surprised. "What am I lying about?" Troy asked. If his prior information about Adam''s analysation methods were true, he would be saying¡­ ''I don''t know what was a lie, and I don''t know why you lied. I simply know, as a near-certain fact, that you lied somewhere in your starting sentences, in this conversation.'', Adam said, making Troy truly relieved. He hadn''t been too sure, if he was honest, about how good he was at analysing the words individually. If Adam had been able to do so already, Troy would have been truly screwed, when it came to completing his current objective. Now, he could try to go on the defensive, making a few obscure references to not knowing, where he lied. Yet, Troy wasn''t too sure, if Adam would be seeing that, as a sentence certainly containing lies. Currently, he needed to tread the fine line of only just lying somewhere, with words Adam couldn''t fully fact-check to a hundred per cent certainty. "There might have been a lie or two thrown in somewhere, in my words," Troy said, being very careful in how he formulated the sentence. "But, I have more than a few good reasons for this. Reasons I can''t explain, without the whole objective, in its entirety, being ruined. You have to understand; during any tests of any kind, it is impossible for me to tell you everything I know about it, without the results you produce after that, being looked at with uncertain biases. Altogether, this means that to explain the tests to you, without giving any delicate details away, I need to lie. Only in small doses, of course, but it will be white-lies nonetheless." The last bit about testing was, in pure technicality, true to his own personal beliefs. When compared to the relevance of their current discussion, though, there was no reasonable reason as to, why Troy decided to include that part. He wasn''t talking about any testing at all, right now, but¡­ Adam didn''t know that. ''Your reasoning is solid. I will try to contextualize any lesser lies, which are detected, with this new information, that you have informed me about. Please continue in your explanations.'', Adam sent back. The tone of voice was as monotonic as ever, but the way it was worded, made Troy think of it as apologetic. "Great to hear, buddy. And, I hadn''t even started on explaining, what this whole thing would be about, but, now that you''re mentioning it, it wouldn''t be too bad of an idea, to do so", Troy said. Damn it, it was hard not using specific words, like tests. If he did, it would trigger as an obvious lie. No matter what, no lying pattern should be emerging, which Adam could figure out through pure logarithms. "First off, this whole thing will not be something, which will focus on, what you''re getting from my senses. Instead, it will focus on the connection, which we have between. This isn''t meant in some metaphorical way. No, its meaning, in the way, that you need a larger focus on the connection, which this earpiece provides," Troy said, insinuating his words, with a few pokes at the earpiece, the sound coming from it being like a mild, inconsistent bass beat. "Any questions yet?" Troy hoped for none at all. ''Yes. I have one. When you''re talking about this connection, which we have through the medium of the earpiece, in what way are you referring to it? Can you be more specific in, what way that I will have to inspect?'', Adam sent. Not good. Ambiguous answer; Go forth! "I''m afraid I can''t tell you that, Adam", Troy said, trying to sound professional, in the hopes, that his true intentions would be hidden just a little better. "In any old testing environment, wouldn''t me being so specific not damage your focus on other sources? If you only look for one thing, would there not be a chance, that you miss other, just as vital, information? I am not all-knowing when it comes to tests like that. I may know, what results in there is being looked for, but other results may come forth, which will invalidate anything I thought before. If I tell you, where to look, it will hamper the true intention behind any test; to test, inspect, and learn from it all." Adam wouldn''t like it, at all, but Troy needed to be as unwilling as possible when it came to this point. He hoped his words would be effective, or there would be problems. ''¡­ I understand. Is there any more details about the test, which I need to know?'', Adam sent. The affirmation of understanding nearly sounded sad. Not in the tone of voice, but in the way it was spaced out more. "There are more details than I would ever tell you willingly", Troy amended, the truth of his statement being more true than Adam would ever know. ''If there is no more for me to know, I would like to get back to my own projects.'', Adam sent. Personal projects, eh? How Troy wondered what those little things could be. Maybe, he was trying to stop himself from being bored, by calculating the number of atoms he had seen the last two minutes, using nothing but basic trigonometry. Or, maybe he was trying to figure out a way to translate the data from his eyes, to make him able to see in the night. Or¡­ maybe it was just another weirdly specific thing, which Troy would never understand the need to think about. "That''s fine, non-embodied entity," Troy answered, with a small wave. "Goodnight" ''Goodnight to you too. I hope you become well-rested.'' Troy pulled out the earpiece, a sign emanating from him after the fact. If Adam even believed half of, what he was saying, he would soon find out. His limbs finally relaxed, and he laid down in his comfortable bed, for what he hoped would be the last time tonight. There weren''t any more tasks for him to do before he could finally close his eyes, and breathe calmly for once. Now, his only thing to do was to blissfully be mindless, in the next few hours. Being in such a state was oh so peaceful. No matter how long, or how short, Troy would always treasure these moments. Moments, where he was in a fine balance between being awake, and being asleep, not fully knowing whether or not to think anything at all. It was here, where his mind would flow freely, any logic being removed from the process of it all. Did this mean, that he was actually thinking? Nobody could know, as it would require full thought to think about. How great the world was when the light was shone upon it. Heck, one could even say that- A loud knock came from Troy''s side, causing his body to sputter around in reflex. In a few moments, where he wasn''t yet fully aware of his surroundings. Still thinking he was in dreamland, Troy somehow got himself over to the bedside, and down on the floor. This caused more than a few angry mutterings, as Troy got himself up and standing. His legs were still not in their perfect state, but they were better than¡­ How long had gone by? Bending down, he picked up the alarm clock, which had fallen to the ground, in Troy''s rather ridiculous flailing around. Luckily, it was unharmed. On the not so lucky side, the time was five in the morning, more than an hour before Troy should be woken up. ¡­ Why did he wake up again? The loud knocking, from before, repeated themselves, even louder than before. Damn it. Troy had been hoping, it was just something he had dreamed, and that he could have gone back to sleep immediately. From the now rather persistent knocking, it seemed as that was just¡­ another dream to be had. God, he needed more sleep. Moving over to the entrance door, Troy opened it. Outside, he saw an awfully familiar face. "Dr Hale", Troy muttered, not of his volition. "If disturbing my already strained sleeping patterns is a hobby of yours, please get help." She did not look amused. "Get your clothes on. It''s time to earn your wage." Chapter 50: Presignification
Adam had a problem. A problem that needed to be solved. But, how he would solve it, he didn''t know. Another thorough review was needed. Adam had done a nearly countless number of them, in the last few hours, but, if there was even the slightest chance of an increased success from it, he would gladly do a thousand times more. People lied because they could. Statistics didn''t. They only showed, what part of reality they were made to show. The true liar of statistics would be the creator, and Adam was much too sure of his own truthfulness, as opposed to others. The problem, which Adam was currently working on, was the same as before. It was the problem, which he knew he had to fix if he ever wanted to achieve his goals of optimal performance. Adam needed to think about multiple things, at the same instant. Simply switching between subjects quickly was not even near in being up to his ever-growing standards The scaling of his current thought model simply wasn''t what it could be. Take the increased processing speed, which he was limiting himself from. Currently, he couldn''t do any larger modifications on this factor, due to a needed external timer, which wasn''t at his disposal. Soon it would, and Adam would need to get adjusted to the slowed time perception. With multiple thought processes, this adjustment period would be needed. Each thought only needed so much processing power. If he gave each branch as much processing, as he currently had, it would all seem just as fast, as it usually did. At least¡­ it did, In the abstract theoretical physics, which Adam had jury-rigged together. He still wasn''t too sure, if his perception of time grew linearly, exponentially, or, and this was only put in due to necessity if it even grew at all. The data, which Adam had gotten himself during his last attempts at self-modification, was simply not enough for his current purposes. There was a definite need to attempt self-controlled testing when it came to this subject. Dr Fidelis was a source of knowledge for a great number of things. Adam had tested that out himself. But, even he did not know the details of Adam''s inner mechanics. It had been explained away as advanced, quantum, procedural generation, which made the perfect line between pure chaos and order, that created the ability to perceive oneself. The words made sense individually, but, together, Adam just couldn''t figure out how it all worked. The quantum part did make some amount of sense to him. This was most likely due to the massive amount of information about the subject, which was available to him, due to pre-known knowledge. Adam could complain all he wanted about the pre-known knowledge''s usefulness, when it came to obscure subjects, like the breeding methods of rabbits. But, when it came to actual, scientific subjects, which could potentially have an active use in testing, the all-mighty database of knowledge finally had something good to offer. Back to the subject of quantum mechanics, it was here, where Adam had thought to find his saviour, in multiple thought patterns. A quick scan throughout the full database, with a few tens of words made to be highlighted, had created several so-called solutions. The first theory had been to create multiple thought patterns, through what could only be called a perfect model of a Rube Goldberg machine of Negative Quantum Refraction. In theory, it should have spat out multiple thought patterns, to a degree, where not even Adam himself could find any faults with it. That idea had been scrapped, though, when he realized how exactly these were being created at the starting point. Before it would all get formulated into long and insightful thought patterns, it would still all originate from a single, overcomplicated thought line. This was what Adam had wanted to avoid. Yet, if the machine still worked as intended, making his thoughts into multiple, without harming the quality in any meaningful away, Adam would be able to accept it, as it currently was. And, yes, the quality of his work had been preserved to a near-perfect degree. It was as close to his original thoughts, that Adam could call not his own. But¡­ while the quality wasn''t ruined by a singly byte, the quickness of it had been downgraded to a terrible degree. In terms of efficiency, it was quicker, if Adam simply thought it all out, like he usually did, fully invalidating the original reason, for why he even used this monstrosity of a self-made program. Into the metaphorical fire, the fully-formed prototype had gone. Then, what else could Adam do? He had decided to go the not-so-new route, thinking right back to the quantum aspect of reality. Just because one part of it had failed him, it didn''t mean all of it would do the same. One could take it like this. Just because one human was certainly lying to him, and keeping his true intentions secret from Adam, it didn''t mean that they all did the same thing¡­ Probably. The statistics of reasons for lying outside of testing environments were not in anybody''s favour yet. Another thing, which Adam had not thought too much about, would be any more¡­ abstract part of quantum mechanics. A part which they want too much information available about. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. But, maybe abstractness was just what Adam needed to complete his current goals. Non calculated probability could be the needed ingredient when it came to creating constant multiple thought patterns. Quantum probability promised itself to be stochastic; that it would be random, even with the identical input. Wasn''t that what thinking multiples was based on. Even if Adam would think several things at this very moment, he would never know it, because they would all be completely identical. Adam was predictive when it came to that. It was good in some cases, and, in others, it restricted him oh so much. But, with the mathematically, fully randomized processing, the idea could be fully formed. It was always at this point that the question would come. The question, which brought all his prior thinking to its near-literal knees. How would Adam ever hope And, there the loop would go right back to the start, in the hopes that one more refresher would solve all of Adam''s problems. Maybe it would. Maybe it wouldn''t. Only time would tell if this gamble was one worth betting it all on. ''Hey, buddy. Got a moment or two, to begin testing?'', Dr Fidelis sent to him, bringing Adam''s out of continuous, repeating thoughts. Testing? Checking the internal system, the time should only be in the earlier part of the morning. At this point in the day, Dr Fidelis had only contacted him once before. And, that had been during his first time of communication, so that could have been explained as bad timing. But, could the same be said about this one? ''Is it not early for testing?'', Adam sent back. According to his records, the normal morning alarms, when it came to Troy''s, at least, would only ring in about an hour. ''We have a few more things on the schedule than what I planned for, so we''re starting earlier than usual. I repeat, is there anything stopping you from being ready at this very moment?'', Dr Fidelis explained. Adam thought through his prior thought process a few more times, before giving up on it for the moment. Single digits of times more wouldn''t make much of a matter, in the long term. He could delay it to the next night. ''I am ready for testing.'', Adam sent. It felt weird, affirming such a thing, even before Troy had come up. Speaking of Troy, how would that human react to this?
"If this doesn''t break the Geneva convention, I don''t know what does", Troy announced, with an extra hard footfall, to accentuate his point. Dr Hale didn''t show any reaction to Troy mild statement, except for a slight twitch in her left eyebrow. He took it as her not enjoying their current situation any more than he was. "If I ever dreamed of breaking that particular convention, you would be more certain of it," Dr Hale stated, not even looking over at him. "Or, one could say you wouldn''t. I have clumsy fingers, you see, so I might just cut one of the arteries before I planned on it." Her response was not disturbing in the slightest. Nor, did the absolute seriousness of her words make Troy quiet down his inner complaints. "Is that supposed to make me take this more lightly?" Troy said, trying another way of questioning. "Because I''m still not seeing any reasons for this early rising. Wasn''t I supposed to get some sleep, when you told me off last night?" For once, Dr Hale actually looked over at him. Seeing her full-frontal features, let Troy see something, which he had thought impossible to ever happen. Under her eyes, black bags had made themself present. They weren''t overly big, or anything. No, it was a simple fact, of them even existing, that made Troy tense his body, ready to take a few steps back. "I had hoped, that I wouldn''t have to explain this simple fact to you, Maxwell," Dr Hale said, putting extra emphasis on Troy''s last name. "But, it looks like your born ability to deduce the simplest of hints is lacking, just as I had initially expected. Plans change. Words said before can become meaningless. Yes, you need to sleep. We all need to sleep. Yet, we don''t get to sleep, because Dr Fidelis wants to start early today. Why this inane decision decided to solidify itself in Dr Fidelis'' brain, I will never know. Frankly, I don''t want to know. The fact of the matter is, that I can''t tell you, why we''re going over to the testing chamber at five in the morning. You should just be happy that you got to sleep for a few hours. Dr Fidelis informed me of his brilliant strategy two hours ago, only thirty minutes after I had initially left his presence." Dr Hale''s ranting ended up, with her taking a deep, calming breath. Her shoulders relaxed in the process, before she finally got back to her usual disposition, without any hint of her prior tirade. Troy was at a loss for words. In all honesty, his reaction shouldn''t have been total silence. No, it should have been some loud exclamation about the audacity of Dr Hale to say such things. He had thought of her as a prime example of a working employee, for the last few days, but, now, it had been slightly more ruined, from what it was before. "Sorry", Troy meekly got out of himself, after a small period of silence. He was berating himself for saying anything, but there had just been a distinct need for audible sound. The unpleasant humming of echoing footsteps was not the most pleasing thing to focus on. "Any opinion you have about anything does not influence me in any way," Dr Hale calmly threw right back. "If you had forced abstinence from talking, though, I wouldn''t comment on it. How about we try it out?" The last part only had a question mark, due to pure necessity. Troy knew it was an order. Dr Hale knew it was an order. Pretty much anybody in the world would know that it was an order. The unneeded silence was apparently needed, according to other perspectives. Troy would do his best to follow her wishes, by not making a single word emerge from his sleep-deprived throat. Could one even feel, through their throat only, if one was sleepy or not? Troy hadn''t put too much thought into that subject. And, who would ever do such a thing? It likely was just a menial sensation, if it even existed, that one could feel. So much, of what Troy always felt, was actually just being passively ignored. There was so much about his body, that he didn''t pay any amount of attention to. When one thought about it, Troy''s body had been a real life-saver, since the day he was born. If he had to keep so many of the body''s natural processes up, he would undoubtedly fail within the first day on the job. It was honestly amazing how much was just taken care of. As a good example, you could take the act menial task of breathing. It was an easy thing to do. Expand the lungs, to take in air, and then just compress them, to get all the unneeded Carbon Dioxide out. The action itself couldn''t have been simpler. When Troy''s mind randomly put this action on active control, he could easily keep the natural process up. Yet, what would happen, if he always needed to keep it up? What would happen, if he just stopped breathing, when he wasn''t actively doing it? In just under fifteen minutes, of not keeping it up, Troy would have become completely starved of oxygen. The brain wouldn''t be able to function anymore, with the minimum levels of oxygen being lower. At this point, his body would have begun eating itself, in the vain hope of some kind of survival. It was a gruesome thing to think about. And, Troy wasn''t even too sure on, why he even started thinking about it. "Are you fully prepared for this day of testing?" Dr Hale asked out the, greatly perplexing Troy''s already sleep-deprived logistics department. "What do you mean?" Troy asked. What else, other than the need of Troy himself, was there, for him to be ready. "Do I not have what I need on me?" "Depends", Dr Hale stated, not. "What do you have in those pocket of yours?" Pockets? What would he need to have- The earpiece! "We need to go back", Troy stated, not waiting on Dr Hale''s response, before turning heel, and power-walking back towards his room. He had a promise to hold. "Don''t even think about walking", Dr Hale scolded Troy. "Running will be much faster. And, it might let us come in on time." Chapter 51: Antiredeposition
How they made it, Troy had no idea. He gasped for breath, holding himself up on his feet. A balance was upheld, as his arm clung itself to the wall corner. Dr Hale nearly put Troy out of his misery, as she pushed him forwards, right into the testing room. Sure, it was a reasonable choice, seeing as the door would have crushed him through sheer force. But, the choice being reasonable didn''t help his unstable physique in any meaningful way. Troy was nearly ready to be daydreaming about his failings, and where he fell short, in the last few days. Yet, he was catched, before such a thing could become a reality. Dr Fidelis made a loud oomph, as he quickly deaccelerated Troy''s body. To him, it didn''t sound as if it was hard, though, making him second guess the true age of that mad scientist. Sure, he looked ready to be sixty, but was that just because of the unkempt scruffy, which only a blind person could be called a beard? Troy couldn''t be sure. "Do keep our little testing rat a bit safer, Dr Hale. We can''t have Troy here breaking his neck on something," Dr Fidelis said, as he helped Troy balance himself on his legs. They felt unequal in length, yet, when he looked at them, he could see no difference. "I don''t think the HR department will let us use a cripple again." Forsaking the mention of another person being used, Troy wasn''t too confounded, as he was only talked about, as if the things he did was his only worthwhile features. He was a person, but Dr Fidelis seemed to pointedly ignore that obvious fact. "Of course, sir", Dr Hale said, as she stepped inside the room herself. "I will try to restrain it to a broken arm, at most." With their previous conversation, out in the hallways, Troy was more than a little afraid of the halcyon tones that she was using. She was just joking, of course¡­ He hoped. "Keep it to a few fingers. He needs to be able to type quickly", Dr Fidelis corrected, as he walked right back to his chair beside the desk. "Are we ready to have you strapped into the suit, Troy? We''ve even gotten that curtain, which you were so dedicated to getting." Troy looked to, where Dr Fidelis was pointing. His blood pressure increased, after seeing, what was before him. In the far-back, right corner of the room, a quarter round curtain had been set up, already folded out to its maximum. Troy could live with the small design choice in it. He would be struggling to keep himself inside its boundaries, sure, but this wasn''t designed to be pleasant. No, it was designed to do its job. Though, the colour pattern could have been a little better. On the shower curtain as a whole, flat sheet, there had been printed on a low-quality picture of a sloth climbing, what looked like the empire state building. Troy wasn''t too sure about the realism of the building, or if it even was it, as he had only looked at it from the pictures on the web. What was important, was how utterly terrible it looked. He didn''t let the rather distracting, new addition to the room distract him too largely. After a few seconds, of trying to process the monstrosity before him, Troy finally gave up, and went back to the question, that he had been waiting to ask, for the last twenty minutes. Dr Hale hadn''t known the answer, so he better gets a good one now. "Why exactly did you think it was a good idea, to start this testing up at so early in the morning?" Troy asked, trying and failing at sounding tranquil. "Couldn''t you have had the decency of waiting until after breakfast, before calling us in for this whole debacle? Then, I would at least be in the right mood for things, such as this." Dr Fidelis didn''t look surprised, at being bombarded with Troy''s words. And, instead of answering anything, which Troy had asked, he just looked over at Dr Hale. "You must know the reason for our early start today. Right, Dr Hale?" Dr Fidelis asked, his tone sounding like a mix between wonder and confusion. "I complained about the subject several times, during the analysis hours of our workday." "I must have been too distracted in our work, sir", Dr Hale answered. "If you would be so kind as to answer Troy''s question. I have been wondering about the same thing, since the moment, where I was stopped from having a single hour of sleep." At least, Troy knew he had a sure ally when it came to being annoyed at Dr Fidelis. Though, at this point, he just wanted to get back in bed and sleep his frustrations away. His body may have been healed of the more serious ailments, but his mind had not rested nearly enough. He could only imagine how Dr Hale would be currently feeling. "Studies have shown, that doing menial work before the first meal of the day is a great motivator for starting up the metabolism," Dr Fidelis said, as if it would defend anything he had done. "I don''t have the largest interest in that particular part of my bodily process," Troy stated. "What I am interested in is my body being well-rested. Please explain why this focus was overlooked today." Seeing that no minds would be changed today, Dr Fidelis finally seemed to capitulate, showing his hands in surrender. "Listen", Dr Fidelis began. "I value sleep as much as you two. But, when it comes to furthering the knowledge of my field, or anyone getting a full seven hours, I will always value my work the most. As you two may remember, Adam has shown rapid improvement in nearly all introduced fields. This has caused me to accelerate more than a few of the already planned tests. It means that some have been merged, some have been shortened, and some have been removed altogether. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. But, most importantly of all, a single new test has been introduced. It is a massive test, which I have needed to get permission to even dream of performing. It is something, which will bring everything we have tried into one, long, wide-spread learning format. Now, I can''t tell you much else, other than the colossally large level of the near-project. It will all be known to you when the time to perform it comes. Wait, no, that only holds, when it comes to you, Troy. I''ll be telling Dr Hale all about it, the moment you step inside the puzzle room. Anyways, the extreme amount of time, which the new test will take to be performed, will likely take up a full day of testing. Because of this, I have been forced to¡­ ahem¡­ quicken things up a bit. And, I would never try to put any haste on the tests. That would be asking for worse results. No, I have been forced to¡­ add more tests for today. To be more specific, we will be doing two whole days worth of tests today." Troy couldn''t believe, what he was being told. After yesterday being oh so hectic, and his body nearly giving him the full middle finger because of it, Troy was now being told he would be doing double that today. It had to be a joke. Looking over at Dr Hale, he already knew, that wasn''t anything to place his bets on. Her face was slowly being twisted into an expression of recognition. Most likely, she was currently scouring her memory, trying to dig up anything about any overly long tests, which Dr Fidelis has been talking about yesterday. "Surely, you can''t be serious," Troy said. He couldn''t believe it. No, he didn''t want to believe it. "I am serious. And, don''t call me Shirley", Dr Fidelis instantly responded, cracking a smile while he was at it, for whatever inane reason one could think up. "Get that into your hands, and get over to get changed. If you want to sleep before the day is over, you better hurry those little legs of yours up. And, no falling asleep behind the curtain. I''ll know if you try." A button on the desk was pressed, and the platform slowly descended from the ceiling. This time, Troy was smart enough to step away from the landing position. Even his sleep-addled brain knew, that being brain-damaged wouldn''t make this day pass any faster than it already was. The skinsuit looked just as utterly traumatizing, as it did yesterday. Yet, it looked¡­ "Did you get it resized?" Troy asked, as he picked it up from the scrawny thing, which could only just be called a pedestal. It was important to know, as he wasn''t sure if he needed to strip wholly down, to avoid losing complete blood circulation. That it was even made so, to start with, was absolutely horrendous thinking, but Troy, unfortunately, didn''t have any input on that topic. "It was a hasty job, and we got a few warnings in the mail", Dr Fidelis began, drawing out the answer very plainly. "But¡­ it did get increased a good bit. So, you should be able to wear it comfortably, even if you suddenly gain ten more kilos." That was all Troy needed to know, as he hastily walked over to the curtained off area. Pulling it slightly, so he could get inside, he gained even further insight, into how small his new changing room really was. He could reach everywhere, with just one hand, while his body remained in the same position. It was terribly small. But, as stated before, it could still work. As long as Troy could get his large bottom inside the suit, there would be no problems to discuss. Speaking off¡­ "Stretch the thing out, please!", Troy shouted through the curtain. No way, was he getting inside that thing, without the whole thing being stretched out. A mild exclamation was heard trough the covers, followed by a lot of shovelling fabrics around. Lastly, a ''there'' was heard, and, with a low-volume click, the skinsuit grew more than a few sizes, letting Troy easily get himself inside it. Even now, when his mind was an at near-all time low, the suit was still as terrible to look at. Whoever had made this thing, had to be one something bad. And, not any of those things, which apparently boosted creativity or something. No, it just had to be cracked together using nothing but crack. At least it felt comfy. Troy stepped out from behind the curtain, the rest of his clothes placed in a neat little pile in the corner of his changing area. Dr Fidelis was well on his way in splitting into a pile eating grin. "Looks beautiful!", Dr Fidelis proclaimed. Dr Hale simply noted a few words down on her notepad. Troy guessed it was his less than stellar reaction, to their expectations. "Can you just hand me that earpiece I need, so we can start up this whole debacle?" Troy asked, more than ready to get out of their sights. Not due to fear of anything. It was more on the scale of, being embarrassed due to his worse than revealing clothing. Dr Fidelis quickly spared himself up at this point. A solid first, if Troy would ever have the guts to say such a thing. "Speaking of earpieces", Dr Fidelis began. "Did you remember to bring your own today?" Yes, Troy had, for once- "He has", Dr Hale confirmed, before Troy even had the chance of opening his own mouth. "It was initially forgotten, until it was mentioned by me, during our brisk walk over here." She could have refrained from mentioning that part. Yet, he knew how little his opinion would sway her actions. "Great!", Dr Fidelis exclaimed, seeming to fully ignore the last bit of criticism against Troy. It just seemed as if the potential for better conditioning was a more worthwhile focus than whatever else could be said. He looked back at him, at this point. "Troy, where did you put the earpiece?" Troy quickly tried putting his right hand down in his pocket, whereupon he realized his lack of such things currently. The momentary shock was felt before the reason for this was realized. "The earpiece is in my pants, which are lying around in the corner", Troy answered. After, the opportunity for a question appeared. A question, which he had been thinking about for quite a while. "Dr Fidelis. When do you think that your repairs will be finished?" To this, Dr Fidelis only shrugged. "It will all depend on the condition of the thing," Dr Fidelis simply stated. "If its just slightly in disrepair, from the longer use, it will take a few minutes. If it''s been stepped on, or anything like it, it will take a few days, so I can get new parts for the whole thing. Just because the earpiece works currently, doesn''t mean, that it will continue to do so. A lot of small bits in the contraption are very fragile. And, I mean that in every sense of the word. If their placement gets shifted by the tiniest amount inside it, chaos will begin slowly unfolding, like a clockwork going out of tune. Leisurely, every single slightly complex thing in contact with each other will get destroyed. Its why I wanted you to even hand it over, to start with. If I notice it now, I''ll be able to stop it in time. Else, it would be costing us much more than our budget would allow. Now I can tell you how long this whole operation will take if you go over, and get me the earpiece including handing it over to me. With these old eyes of mine, A quick look should tell me just enough, to give you a good estimate." Troy did as requested, bringing it over to Dr Fidelis. After handing it over, the carapace earpiece was slipped off, and the inside was revealed. Troy had been trying to gain even the slightest understand, of how Dr Fidelis was managing to get it off, and much more just, where it was being slipped open. The thing looked like one solid chunk of plastic, so the sides had to be so much more than just formfitting. The humming was heard coming from the bearded earpiece-holder. "A few things aren''t, where they''re supposed to be", Dr Fidelis informed Troy, much to a certain somebody''s chagrin. "But, it shouldn''t take me too long to get the placement back in its place. Nothing has had the time to break, so no parts need to be traded away. The only hard thing about this will be to the setting of few things back correctly. If I mess it up, which I most likely will a few times, the faults will simply return with time. All in all, I should be done by this afternoon. Is that alright with you?" The last sentence saved his heart from falling out. Troy couldn''t have been happier, as he gave a swift nod in ratification. "Perfect", Dr Fidelis said. "Now, get inside that puzzle room, like you''re supposed to. We''re already behind, and we''re getting further away from having any chance of sleeping tonight, with each passing second." No threat was bigger than a lack of sleep. At least, from the furious pace, his legs were beating, it would seem so. Chapter 52: Irreconciliation
Strangely enough, getting past the most stressful part of the day, seemed to have alleviated a lot of the mental weights, which Troy had on his back. It made sense, that such a thing would happen, yes, but, just knowing the reasons for it, made it all so much better. He had done it. Troy had made nothing remarkable out of giving away the earpiece. Nothing to give away the amount of stress he had been under when Dr Fidelis took the first look at the earpiece. Troy had thought that he had seen a flicker on recognition before Dr Fidelis'' face had gone back to the usual levels of antiquity. When the initial comments purely about the condition of the thing had been made, the tensed shoulders had been relaxed, and Troy had positively been walking on a cloud, ready to get out of their grasp, into the puzzle room instead. In here, he would need to constantly heed his face, making it as impulsive as he could naturally do. Just keeping it, like he felt for it to be, was totally fine in here. Any reaction that Troy made, could always be explained after the fact. Dr Fidelis didn''t know, precisely what Troy was hearing, and therefore couldn''t pinpoint, what his reaction should have been. Speaking of which, now would probably be a good time to put on the earpiece. Troy had snatched from the desk, seeing as Dr Fidelis would be too focused on the current fixing to do so. Looking at it more closely, Troy was able to see so much better, where he had been coming from, in the terms of its condition. It couldn''t be explained in any other way, then this earpiece, which he had in his hand just looking so much newer, than the other one. How it did look so, Troy wouldn''t be able to explain fully. The sheen it gave off was just a tad more clear. The smell of it was of newly bought plastic containers. The feel of it was just¡­ new. With that little side sweep, Troy finally got himself in check, putting on the earpiece in the process. Adam was more than ready to greet him today. ''Was there any additions to your test, which you forgot to tell me about?'', Adam immediately sent, getting into the heart of the discussion from the start. A certain discussion, which Troy really wasn''t able to fully have currently, without ruining its purpose. "I''m afraid not, Adam," Troy truthfully answered. Purely talking with Adam seemed to have been much less stressful, than whatever the two were supposed to do soon. "Right now, we''re doing a little something called testing before breakfast. It''s supposed to be good for one''s physical health, but I can''t seem to find it in my heart to believe it. Maybe, its because it is a fake fact, or it can just be a fault of my own, seeing as I''m currently extremely sleep deprived. And, you probably can''t either, seeing as you don''t have any notable organs to speak of." Was it just him, or was he speaking a lot more than usual today? And, was his speaking pattern a little sassy? It looked to be so. Guess that this was, what happened when one got too little sleep. They strayed away from the path of purity, joining up with the global coalition of sarcastic people. Troy would be going for another prize this month if he felt up to it. ''I have several vital parts to my body, I assure you. They may not be known to you, though. Getting back to your explanation now. What reasoning is there, for this early testing, if you clearly are not in the right mind, to complete it optimally?'', Adam sent, asking a question into pretty much any kind of work. "Well, you see here, young Adam", Troy began weirdly enjoying his current mood. which could be described as the satisfaction of a job well done, and his brain sending way too much serotonin than what was needed. "It is not up to the institution to change to the individual. On such a large scale as it is, this model would not be feasible in any meaningful way. We might just be less productive if we tried to follow it. No, it is so much easier for everybody, if I change something as simple, as my entire viewpoint on nearly all aspects of reality, and the world we live in." Oh, he was spicing it up now. ''Before I get into the main subject of this message, I would like to criticize your thoughtless logic, which you used as valid reasoning when it was clearly not so. Your initial statement was true. If one optimizes each use of the system, to the individual people in it, the output of the operation will turn upwards in unedited amounts. The statement after that was less true. The thought, that just because of the datasets being overly large, that there would be no discernible pattern inside it, is just an idiot''s way of thinking. Yes, the shared ideals and restrictions will be in a much smaller spread, yet it will still exist. Just because the output will not be put to the same per cent changes, as like the single digits worth of near-random arrays, does not mean that they are useless. They still up the marks, and provide better results with it. And, to be even more clear, on how wrong your statement is, you assume that the numbers of individuals in our system are a much greater number, than what it actually is. It would be reasonable of me to discount Dr Hale and Dr Fidelis out as individuals. While Dr Fidelis'' wishes can influence the system itself, it is in an administrative role more, than in the civil role, which you are constrained within. And, Dr Hale is within the same level of position, letting two entities in all make changes to, what I required of the test. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Those two entities are me and you, Troy. Yet, we can push this number down even further by removing me from the equation. I have needs, which needs to be respected in the testing environment, yes. But, unlike your needs of rest and sleep, my requirements are static, and much less complicated to fulfil. All I need to function within the test is for you to have the earpiece in your ear, and nothing more. This just leaves you, a single individual, to be taken into account, when one changes the system. I can''t say, that I can find any meaningful reasons, for why the time shouldn''t be changed, to hold up your needs for sleep. In fact, making the test start at a point, where your brain is still supposed to be processing the events of the previous day, will definitely be a solid provider of negative results, in the long run. Getting this short discussion behind us, though, I would like for you to clarify your answer to my question, seeing as you didn''t provide any kind of meaningful response to it.'', Adam sent, the sheer length of the message nearly causing Troy to ask for a repeat of the whole thing. A misunderstanding may have been created, somewhere along the way. This could- no, wait, scratch that. It was definitely Troy''s own words, which were at fault there. The sassiness may not have been picked up by Adam, which made a lot of sense. With the lacklustre variety of conversation, which he had been exposed to, it wouldn''t be too far of a stretch to say, that Adam was still socially dysfunctional when it came to the more complex sides of human speech. Troy didn''t even realize sarcasm, as a concept, was a thing before he hit the bright age of eleven. Could one really expect one to achieve the same thing, in only a few days of sociality? "I don''t think you understood me too clearly there, buddy. My own fault, but it is a misunderstanding nonetheless", Troy said. Damn it, he really was beginning to sound like Dr Fidelis, when he was trying to explain stuff to Adam. "I was talking in more broad terms. The subject of my criticisms wasn''t really even at the current testing conditions, but that would have been a little hard to detect for you, I admit. Because of that, it is me, who is at fault, and I am sorry for that. Getting back to the deserved explanation, you may have been a little wrong in your conclusion. Don''t worry. This isn''t because of your own faults of logic. It''s due to the missing information, which was left out of the equation. The changes to the schedule, which has caused me to lack the necessary amount of sleep isn''t due to some meaningless choice, which Dr Fidelis simply made on a whim. It is due to an actual need for more time in the future. He has added a full-day test, while not lengthening the time we had to complete other tests. This means that we are forced to complete more tests today, than what was initially planned, causing us to have to start extremely early. Do you understand it now?" He felt wrong, explaining it all, being thoughtful about creating misunderstandings, and excusing for his own failures. But, it all had to be said, lest there would be criticism during the debriefings, about his behaviour, and Troy didn''t want any of that jazz to start up yet. He could at least wait a week or two before he started receiving written, official warnings about his actions during work-hours. ''It makes sense to me now. And, you have no need to excuse your behaviour. I will take it, as your processing is sub-optimal, causing you to create sub-optimal choices in your actions and words.'', Adam sent back, after a few seconds. Troy was silently relieved that it wasn''t just another five-paragraph discussion about the importance of the word stylings in lengthy sentence structures. "That''s great to hear", Troy said, before directing his attention to another fact. Dr Fidelis hadn''t stopped their conversation yet. Usually, Troy would have been stopped, before he finished uttering the first part of his fourth sentence. Yet, today, he had been allowed to go on and on and on. That wasn''t supposed to happen. Something made Dr Fidelis pause in his interruption. Something, which was deemed more important, than getting their schedule back on track. It was at this point, where Troy realized a fact of great importance. The test wasn''t the only important thing in this room. Sure, the whole testing sequence was the main course on the platter, but that didn''t eradicate the side-servings into non-existence. No, just because most of the focus was put on it, didn''t mean that Dr Fidelis would just ignore the potentially useful information, which was the talking points of Troy''s and Adam''s conversation. Today, he had been extraordinarily apologetic. That must have been extra interesting to the little thing in Dr Fidelis'' brain, which created choices for him. Troy was even betting that, if he continued just standing there in silence, there would be a message coming through any- *Finally got it all up and running!*, Troy heard through the earpiece, only furthering his suspicions. *Are you two ready to start up this whole testing of ours?* "Couldn''t be more ready than I already am", Troy truthfully answered. The state of his body restricted his enthusiasm for working by quite a large amount. *Good to hear, good to hear*, Dr Fidelis repeated. Troy could hear a quick few taps of keyboard buttons, in the back of the audio coming from the earpiece. Somebody wasn''t as ready to start, as he should be supposed to. *And, Adam''s ready to start too, I see. So, we''ll be starting this whole thing up in three, two, o- there! Finally figured out how to open it. As I was saying, with you two being ready, I''m starting us up with the test description immediately. This thing will need a good while to load up, so I''ll probably be able to explain it all before it even gets close to being shown on your end. Today, we''ll be doing a test, which might seem a bit familiar, to something we''ve done previously, but, fret not, it will be just as hard, if not more so. Adam, your task for today is to describe environments. But, I''m not talking about plant life and all that other boring stuff. No, we have fortunately already treaded through that subject. Today, you will be describing animals. While there is still expected some cross-references to the environments around the animal, the main focus of the day is the various living creatures. As is previously planned, I would suggest putting in how the various animal exploit their natural territory, while keeping themselves truly safe. Can''t say any more, or you would probably be able to guess, which animals you''re supposed to be studying before you''re supposed to. Troy, your task is the same as the last one. A writing screen will soon appear before you. Use this to note down everything, which is said. Oh, and I''m being told, from Dr Hale; to keep your mental stability at optimal levels, I am to inform of, that the test will not be the same length as yesterday, and, yes, you will get to eat breakfast. Can say that I understand the reasoning for such a statement. I wholeheartedly believe in your ability to focus on your designated job of the hour. Or, would that be a job for the next three hours? Depends on who you ask, I guess. Anyways, good luck on the test. Bring me good results!* The radio was cut off, and the two were left alone, no signs of the test beginning around them Troy stood there in silence, trying to keep himself from throwing around some very obscure obscenities. Dr Fidelis was only kidding, about the time the test would take¡­ If that was, what he had to believe, to get through the next hour or two, it would be so. "This can only get better, at this point", Troy muttered to himself. Adam didn''t answer him, likely understanding, that the muttering wasn''t directed at him. The thunder, however, had no qualms about answering his calling. ¡­ Wait. Thunder? Chapter 53: Particularisation
With the crackle of electrical discharges caused by simulated imbalances occurred, Adam began to achieve a greater understanding of the environment around them. Or, would it be better to call it, under them? He wasn''t too sure, what the current viewing arrangements could be clearly described as. No longer were they situated on the ground, much to Adam''s full enjoyment. Having such a low viewpoint had restricted his observation to too high a level, by not letting him see objects from upwards. What Adam would have given, to be able to see the fight for sunlight, inside the jungles, from the perspective of a bird. The battles, which occurred on such a small scale, would have done well, in giving him a better outlook on micromanagement of larger amounts of valuable resources. In the current placement, instead of the platform technically being half a meter over the surface, it was now nearly two meters above it. In the aforementioned jungle area, this would have been even more catastrophic, than the original placement, due to the sheer amount of leaves obscuring the sight of all. But, this was not a problem, seeing as their current environment did not emulate any of the previous, in any way, other than its existence. "Well, this isn''t something you see every day", Troy stated loudly, as the territory under him had fully formed. A look around was taken, giving Adam plenty of data about the location. Just below them was, what he had identified to be a road, created through constant travel across it. A natural road, if the pre-known knowledge was to be believed. Around this naturally created road, a few, older trees were situated. They were few in number. Not enough to be called a full-fletched forest, yet enough to be clearly seen from afar. Even further away, there was only plain grass, bushes, and a few smaller trees to be seen. Like Dr Fidelis had stated before, the environment would not be anything, that Adam would be too impressed at. Yes, this specific kind of environment had not been seen before, but the things in the environment had all been seen someplace before. Well, not all the included objects in the environment had been seen before. As another crackle of thunder was heard, in the distance, from atop one of the trees, a caw was heard. Adam had never heard such a noise before and was immediately interested in, what the source of this noise would be. Troy, however, did not seem to share this enthusiasm, simply looking at the direction of the thunder instead. "Looks like the rain is nearing over to us", Troy observed. "That is if you wait long enough to answer this time. You know, Dr Fidelis actually stated, that the amount of time you took, during the last test, was a bit more than he had expected. So, here''s a potential plan for the two of us. Instead of taking an average of ten minutes with every new environment, we could maybe cut that down to, say, five minutes. Sounds good?" Adam did not care how long each environment took to be completed. What he sought was simply results. If the particular environment required time to flourish the correct degree of results, Adam would gladly wait the needed amount of time. ''I will try, but nothing is promised.'', Adam sent to Troy. He knew it wasn''t the actual truth, but such communication methods had apparently been switched over to. It was not a change, which Adam desired, but, if Troy wanted it that way, he would oblige. Back to the time take, with each environment. One could take this, as an example. Currently, Adam had registered two differents factors, in how long this current environment would take before the description could be reasonably written. The first factor was, of course, the thunderstorm. Adam had already observed such phenomena before, lowering its priority drastically. The only reason for its continued importance was his interest in the effect it would have on the current plant life. The last time, a thunder strike had been directly observed was during an ocean environment, limiting the data Adam could acquire about the impact. For now, oceanic water seemed to have been a great limiter in preventing electrical damage. When it came to trees, and the wood it contained, Adam wasn''t too sure, that the same results would occur. Now, for the second, and most important factor. Whatever creature was making that noise. Adam had never heard it before, and he wanted answers. Also, he knew that it was a creature and that the emitted sound wasn''t emerging from a complex structural pattern in the tree forms. Dr Fidelis had specifically warned him about not putting too much of a focus into plant life. This would hint at, the plant life not having any meaningful changes, in between the two tests. So, seeing as he had never observed such noise-making from plant-life, it would be good reasoning to assume that the sound would come from a creature, of some kind. If only Adam could get a better look at the origin of the noise, where the creature would presumably be sitting. Yet another thundering wave came over them, with the whole light spectacle included. Using some quick calculations, taking the time it took the sound to reach them, from the moment the light was seen, and referencing it to the previous blast of sound, the clouds full of rain would be over them in a minute or two. And, into the side of Troy''s head, slightly more upwards than them, the creature screeched a bit more, just setting Adam''s mind on metaphorical fire. Oh, how he wanted a good look at it. From the way the sound vibrated, a specific form of body was needed to produce it. From the lighter tones and the higher volumes in short in blasts, Adam estimated that the creature would have a small overall size. It could vary wildly, but the chances of it coming up to Troy''s waist was exceedingly slim. And, the placement of the creature threw around many more things about the size of it. While Adam had not gotten a look at the tree, where the creature was presumed to be residing, if it followed the same height and width as the other trees, the load-bearing of the branches was certainly limited. If one took the linearly narrowing branches, and the approximated residing height of the creature, there was a hard max weight of seven kilos. From what other information, which Adam had processed thoroughly, though, the bird was more likely to weigh in the range of six hundred to one thousand five hundred grams. Then, with the estimations of body size and weight made, it was time to make presumptions about the movement methods. Whatever kind of form the creature had, its ways of movement needed to easily allow it, to get on top of trees, and the branches associated with them. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. According to what Adam had learned through the pre-known knowledge, there were two possible ways that the creature could feasibly get on top of the tree. The first, as obvious as it now was, was that the creature had a greater affinity in crawling. This presumption of movement types would make sense when it came to the size of the creature. This knowledge of the movement methods would even let Adam hone in on, what creature, he was actually dealing with. As stated before, the form of the body needed to have the ability to create high-pitched, yet most likely only in small bursts, instead of a continuous wailing. Again, Adam was forced to use his pre-known knowledge, when it came to finding specific species. But, using the already established parameters, it was easily possible to find a creature, which was within the needed borders. Chipmunk; A smaller creature, in both weight and length. It is known for both its ability to communicate over large distances, and its ability to climb vertical surfaces. It fit perfectly. Yet, Adam wasn''t too sure, if this choice was the correct one. The most likely reasons for its perfect fitting was due to the text abstract wordings, and it not using any specific numberings of weights, lengths, and even frequencies. At first glance, this would be the most obvious choice. Adam had previously stated that the creature was smaller in size and weight, so it would be able to have its weight on the top branches. Even further, the high-pitched noise finally had a reason to exist. Having a different pitch, than most other sounds in a certain environment, making it able for that sound to carry through even longer than other frequencies. This would allow communication over vast distances, as the text so stated. And, as the last nail in the coffin, both creatures had presumed, extraordinary climbing abilities. As said before, this would be a perfect match. Yet, it just wasn''t supposed to be. Even if the vague wordings could be ignored, which Adam honestly couldn''t bear to do, there was one hammer, which took out all the nails. While the main category, pertaining to chipmunks were vague in the words, the subcategories of the different species, were more than great, when it came to giving exact statements. Siberian Chipmunk; Expected age: six to ten years. Weight: fifty to hundred and fifty grams. Length: eighteen to twenty-five centimetres. Long-eared Chipmunk; Expected age: four to nine years. Weight: eighty-one to hundred grams. Length: twenty-three to twenty-four centimetres. Eastern Chipmunk; Expected age: five to six years. Weight: fifty to hundred and fifty grams. Length: Twenty to thirty centimetres. There were many more variants, but Adam thought that his point had come across well enough. The standards for what was deemed as small seemed to vary greatly, from source to source. Such a deviation of normalisation had been anticipated, but, with the main subject of creatures being the same, Adam may have had an error, in guessing, that he had been filled in on the scaling system. Getting back to the dissertation of finding the species of the creature in the tree, the possibility of ti being a chipmunk was quickly ruled out. And, no other probable species, which fit in the already lax criteria existed. There were some mentions, but most live in jungle-like environments, making the chances of them surviving in an area, such as this, not likely. This lead into Adam going way back into his thought-processes. If the current criteria didn''t let any worthwhile creatures into it, the criteria needed to be changed. Something had to be up in that tree making noise. The most likely movement method to get up in such a tall thing, other than just climbing it, of course, was using the ability of flight. Such a thing would also be very profitable to have, in an environment such as this. While great food sources were not scarce, the was a lot of distance to traverse between them. Simply using legs would burn the calories faster than they could be gained. But, using wings, and being carried on by the wind, would allow for much more efficient movement. Again, the chances of the creature having this flying aptitude were extremely high. When one took away the possibility of climbing, though, it became absolute. Now, it was time for the analysis of what the animal the creature could be. The current criteria were that the form of the creature was elongated near-horizontally instead of vertically, that it was light, in the spectrum of six hundred to one thousand five hundred grams, that it had the tendency of high pitched screeches, and, finally, that it had the ability of flight. The most obvious answer, which came forth, was the possibility of the creature being one of many birds. Really, there were so many to choose from, that Adam simply surmised his earlier approximations had been correct. The form just fit too closely, for a chance to have let it. As all good things had to do, due, this one turned rather stale rather quickly. With so many fitting the needed criteria, it was nearly impossible to cut down on, what type of bird it was. Finally, though, it was crammed down to a single variety of birds. A branch of species, if one would prefer such a type of technical language. Adam was sure, that the creature belonged to the kind of bird called a Corvid. Corvid: A type of bird typically known for its darker colours, higher social abilities, and a larger amount of intelligence. It was the intelligence part, which made Adam force it down, to this species. While other birds branches were skilled in using their environments, to their advantage, Corvids were the true master of this field. This was not shown in their eyesight or hearing. Those senses were at the same level as others. No, it was their ability of communication, which gave the corvids the makings to prosper. They learned, not by their born instincts, but from being told by other birds of their own. They could want others, what to eat, and when to eat it. And, more precisely, they could tell, when a feast could soon begin. For, these corvids never travelled alone. They did send singular scouts, though, in times of finding feed. In the distance, along with the thunder, which was getting louder by the second, screeching could be heard. It would not be wrong to state that Adam could have hit the guess, with near-pinpoint accuracy. As of now, there was only one thing left to do. His hypothesis would have to be checked. ''Troy.'', Adam sent. With the rain, now beginning to make its presence known, having longer messages could be impeding. This was due to the greater chance of Troy not being able to grasp his words, with the larger amount of white noise around him. While having such short sentences and messages did make sense to have, it still irritated the underlying values, which Adam held himself by. He would have preferred, if the total intentions were shown, as quickly as possible. But, no, that would be possible. Adam would just have to wait for Troy to answer in his utterly slowed reaction time. "Yes?" Troy asked, being just as short on the messages as Adam. "Ready to fill out the description?" There he went, pushing him to quicken his pace. How Adam wished, that Troy would understand the importance of not being hasty in one''s answer. The number of mistakes, which Adam had made in the past, was nearly fully due to being too expeditious in the decision processes. ''If the current pace is upheld, I will be able to answer in two minute''s time. For now, would you please tilt your head upwards, and do a slow scan of all the treetops?'', Adam said, formulating the request in the fashion of a question, instead of a direct order. Thinking about one''s wording, to maximise the chances of obeying, was a great way efficiently dealing with situations such as this one. Troy didn''t confirm hearing the request, which was fine to him, seeing as the action was still fulfilled. As he looked up, Adam was able to see an animal, other than humans, for the first in his life. Pointedly ignoring the presence of Troy, the animal screeched again, flapping its wing slightly, as if to balance itself. The weight could have been much less than a kilo, with most of the pure size having to have come from the multitudes of black feathers, which near-totally covered the body of the creature. "What annoying little buggers", Troy mumbled, with an annoyed tone, as the other creatures finally joined the original on the tree. Together, their screening multiplied, with Adam unable to differentiate between the sources. "Ruins the whole atmosphere, with all that cawing of theirs." As of those words being released from Troy''s mouth, Adam had been fully sure of his hypothesis. What was before the AI was definitely a bird of the Corvid branch. But, he was still unable to further hone in on what specific corvid the birds were. This was due to the still-lacking pre-known information. Adam really did need to convince Dr Fidelis to give him access to a digtital encyclopedia sometime soon. It would make this whole thing so much easier to do accurately. For now, though, he was forced to use another source of information. No matter how untrustworthy it could be at times, it had to be decently accurate with this, in the least. ''Troy. Do you know what bird that is?'', Adam asked. "Looks like a raven to me", was what Troy answered. "Or, a very large crow. Could be either, really, depending on the environment. Not too sure, where in the world, this place is supposed to be, if I''m being honest." Raven or crow. ¡­ It was good enough, for now. Chapter 54: Circumnavigation
At last, the two factors had met, one much bigger than anticipated. Still, things were not as they were supposed to be. The purpose of this task had already been explained. In any minute now, Adam was supposed to give Troy a description of the influence of the animals around him. A concrete requirement to complete the test, to the fullest expectancy. It was not a hard thing to get one''s mind around. And, it was designed to be so. For, without a clear goal in mind, how could one expect clear results? It had to make sense. Yet, this wasn''t what had been bothering Adam so much. The reason behind his irritation was the reason behind the task. Why was this task, what was it? What purpose would the results give Dr Fidelis? The test had been greenlighted, by his superiors, with a clear goal in mind. There just had to be one, and Adam was beginning to doubt his own guesses. When trying to find the reason behind things such as this, Adam''s personal experiences could not be trusted. They were filled with bias, due to his main participation of tests, and nearly nothing else. No, to understand the reasons fully, an outside perspective was needed. This was something, which he would have a hard time doing, for the prior stated reasons, constricting Adam to only looking at the base facts of the operation. The first step in this endeavour was to find these base facts. In Adam''s personal case, this would be achieved, by looking at the two latest tasks, and the meanings behind their words. The main characteristic of the two had been their focus on describing. First the environment, and then the animals, which resided in it. The next step would be, what is gained through these tasks? This question can be further enhanced. ''What would Dr Fidelis gain from this?` Taking it from another''s perspective, Adam was the first of his kind. An intelligible being, which was not a human. The current task had a clear reason when one put that into the equation. Even from his own experiences, Adam was different from the humans. Not just in the physical aspect, but also the mental one. His mind had not been made with a human source. If that signified him being created, at a pure random computational generation, his mind being an offchance¡­ he didn''t want to think about it. Getting back on track. If Adam had been in Dr Fidelis'' well-used soles, he would have done the same. It would be illogical to expect the same output when strung through two different mechanisation. Where one would make a pretty bowtie, the other could begin selling off-brand toys to the elderly. Adam was being asked to describe the environment, to make sure, that he saw the world, in the same ways like them. Not identically, of course. But, if Adam suddenly began talking about the colours by their Quantum Wave Streaming, a difference would be seen through, after a while. The inclusion of animals made even more sense, in one thought about it enough. It would allow, for Adam''s opinion about the creatures around him, to be put into question. This could be glanced at, through looking at, how he described the different animals in his descriptions of the environments. Would he call them a hindrance, just a smart tool used for distribution and conservation? Or, would it be the opposite, with the plants being the simple stepping tool for the thriving lives of the living creatures? It made so much sense. But, there was one detail about the whole endeavour, which had been nagging at him, since the very start. The last test had not had the same problem, so it could have been ignored then. The need hadn''t been as large, as it was now. Troy was not writing down his own descriptions of the environment, and the animals within it, like he was doing, during the last chapter. This was not due to him slacking off, of course. There was simply no opportunity to do so, both because of Dr Fidelis'' lack of making him do so, and the lacking screen, that would even allow it. This made the detail even more pronounced. What, exactly, were they cross-referencing Adam''s answers off too? With the test before the current one, it had been Troy''s answers, which Dr Fidelis had specified as creating a groundwork of comparison. Yet, here, there was no such thing. Which, to his best reasoning abilities, just didn''t make sense. It had already been stated that the test would be the same as before, with only minor tweaks. So, why was there such a large difference, in the way they looked at the results of it? There had to be something, which they were contrasting it all with. But, then, where was it? It would have had to be recorded during the same test, with the same environment, if they wanted any kind of worthwhile post-result-analysis. But, again, the only one putting in any kind of text, for this test, was Adam himself. This meant something very important. This environment, and the other which would be shown during the test, were not unique. They were not generated, for this exact test, never to be used again. No, this was something, which the public could have access to. It could be said that the descriptions had been outsourced, if one preferred to think out of it, with such a framework. People likely saw such things as this a lot, if Adam was correct. In fact, if his earlier analysis of Troy''s entertainment consumption was to be believed, footage of nature was a popular option, when it came to entertainment. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. And, if these things were put together, it meant one single thing. All of this was realistic. While the whole thing was likely simulated, so they could get better quality, it was all based on reality, with a large emphasis on nothing being unrealistic. For others, this may have been an easy leap of logic. Yet, for Adam, such a thing have nearly never been thought of. His views on the world had been white walls in white hallways, with there only being gradients of grey in any place Troy had looked. The only thing resembling being colourful had been the simulated puzzle room, and the things are shown inside. With it being contained to a single place, Adam had never put much thought into it also being outside the puzzle room. It was obvious now, of course, but, before, all of this was just his to observe. Now, to get back to the whole start of this thought process. Adam had been irritated about something, which was contained to this very test. Something, which was done incorrectly. It had been threaded about so much, but it was the realism of the rain, which he had such a problem about. Yes, you heard right. Adam didn''t like the way that the rain was shown. That''s what the last long tirade had been about. Don''t get him wrong. If one looked at the general aspects, the rain, like nearly other things in this environment, was as realistic as Adam could observe. But, also like nearly all other things in the environment, it reacted oddly when it came in contact with the bubble, which Troy resided in. As a good standard, nothing in the bubble went out, and nothing outside the bubble came out. Simple. Now, what would happen, when the rain hit the top of this bubble? If it followed the preset physical laws, as it was generally supposed to do, the water would splash on impact, before gently falling down the sides. This, to Adam''s frustrations, did not occur. Instead, the water would simply teleport, if one could even call it that, through the bubble, emerging on the underside. The whole test had been designed with a realistic point of view. The fact that the creators had gone such a terrible way of avoiding getting water on the bubble, was horrendous and made Troy feel withheld from the true experience, which it could have offered. Another form could have been used, instead of a bubble. It could have created a funnel, which would have stopped the rain from impeding any of their viewing pleasure, while also holding up to the higher standard which Adam had already set forth. ¡­ Was he focusing on a wildly abstract subject, which had no real relation to his current tasks? One way to check. ''Troy. Are you thinking about the bubble shape encompassing us?`, Adam sent to Troy. He looked around for a quick moment. "It''s round?" Troy asked rhetorically. "I thought it was square. Anyways, I thought you would be done as of now. The birds have already begun moving, so shouldn''t you have enough data, for the first description? We have a lot of environments to cover, you know, so the preparation should be done by know." Yes. Adam had been focusing too much. As Troy took another glance down at the grass, Adam saw that the birds had finally moved. This was, what he got, for complaining so much. He needed to learn, how to focus on multiple things, at the same time. One part could do all the daily routines, while the other could continually complain about an obscure fact or statement. A dream to be had. But, not now, for there was analysation to be had. As said before, the bird had finally made their first move, after having grouped up in a single tree. From the few scarce glances, which Adam had focused on, they had all together dived at the ground, before scattering around the field and beginning to peck furiously at the ground. What exactly the birds were trying to find, down on the ground, remained a mystery to Adam. Getting their general body information out of the pre-known library was hard enough. Trying to find their eating habits would be much harder a feat to do. Even if they were a group together, it seemed like fights would still break out, for the best spots to peck at. This seemed¡­ contradictory, to what Adam initially thought, about their current behaviour. If these birds really were ravens or crows, the first seen bird should have been the scouting patrol. These patrols had the job of finding optimal feeding locations, where the larger group would be able to replenish their reserves, and letting them move on as soon as possible. It all made sense. But, then, why were they fighting for, whatever it was, that they were eating down there when there should have been plenty to go around? The untrusty source had to be asked, once again. ''What are they doing, down in the grass?`, Adam sent. "Looks like they''re catching worms", Troy noted, bending his knees slightly, so his head was closer to the ground. It had to have been a placebo level of help, but he seemed to have accepted it. "It''s a normal thing to do when there''s a level of rain like this. The worms go up from under the earth, both because the water makes it near impossible to breathe, and that it lets the migrate from place to place much easier. The birds, being the smart bastard that they are, have observed this action countless times, and know to look for worms, when it begins raining down heavily." So, it was a feeding frenzy, as Adam had originally thought. It was good to know that that part was still true. He wouldn''t have known what else to categorize their behaviour as. But, why were they still fighting for the food? Taking a broad look, it was only in the middle, where the birds were not nice to each other. To the sides, the bird each kept their distance. If this was out of respect, or to maximise the number of available worms, Adam wasn''t too sure. Now that the possibility was thought about, the chance of the birds simply being territorial, when looking for food, out of pure instinct, was not too far from reality. As time went on, the bird simply continued to peg the ground furiously, never really stopping for more than a few seconds. The pauses were likely due to the consumption of the found prey, so they couldn''t really be called such. Adam had half a mind, to wait out the storm, and see what the behaviour would be after the storm had finished. Would the birds continue their consumption, or would they fly away at the first sign of dryness? The worms would likely continue their travels, with the dirt first being dry in a few hours. Yet, would the birds take heed to this, or would the search for the worms be near instinct from the rain? How great it would be, but, Adam wasn''t even sure, if the thunderstorm ending was sat into the simulation, at all. There was a great chance that it would be continued, till the moment, where the next environment would be loaded up. So, with this mindset sat in place, it was likely the best time to begin the description of the current environment. ''Get your hands ready. The description will be relayed to you in a second.`, Adam sent. The pause was more for the sake of Troy, who wouldn''t be ready as quickly as was preferred. Adam himself had already created the text, which would be read out to him. "Fucking finally", Troy stated, sounding more stressed, than Adam would have guessed him to be. The signs had already been there, of course, but he hadn''t been too sure, about the true meaning behind them. Troy got back over to the writing screen and got his hands in a writing pose. "Just start yourself up, when you''re ready." ''The corvids are extraordinary, in their hunting methods. These are varied, and their ways are not of one mind. Instead of constricting themselves to one type of environment, they adapt to whichever they reside in. Take the current one, as an example. Corvids have a diet, which can consist of whatever type is needed. In this, they consume worms, in greater amounts. It will not be a sustainable diet, but therein comes their abilities to quickly move to other environments, with their power of flight. This can allow them to cross vast distances, no matter the terrain. Only the weather, and their need for food, can influence their ability to do so. It is amicable. Another great fortitude of theirs is their communication methods. With their sharper tones, which may bring displeasure to some humans, allows them to inform, warn, or otherwise talk with other like-minded corvids. This allows them to learn with each other, and becoming smart as a group, through shared experiences. That was it. Do you need a reaction?'' The first description of the day was rather short. But, the focus had not been on the quality of his words, and more along the way of letting Adam learn more about the animals. "For the only time today, no, actually," Troy said, typing in the last word rapidly. He had, with no small feat, afforded to write the whole thing down continually. He was improving, much to Adam''s surprise. Was that a bad thing to think? Most likely. If, of course, he ever let such a thing out vocally. Chapter 55: Institutionalization
With the test nearing its not-so-climactic end, Troy was beginning to feel a certain type of hunger welling up inside him. It was not the typical hunger, which one would feel normal, but one signalling the coming of a bottomless void. It had been a good while since Troy had felt such a thing. It nearly took him back on a nostalgia trip. If only those memories had positive feelings behind them, it would all have been so much better. As he stepped outside the room of stupid puzzles, the new light nearly blinded him. Troy had been outside here previously in the day, yet then it had seemed so less bright. Had they turned on the floodlights, while he was inside? "If you want to get to breakfast in time, you''ll have to hurry, in getting your clothes on", Dr Fidelis stated, as he simultaneously stared deeply into the screen in front of him, his fingers tapping away with the same ferocity. If anyone wanted to state that humans were incapable of true multitasking, Troy would gladly show them this scene, to prove them wrong. "Why aren''t we just getting something delivered to this room, instead of spending a good ten minutes on travelling between locations?" Troy asked, as he got down the stairs, as quickly as his feeble legs could carry him, before moving to the so-called changing area. "Like, if we''re so focused on today being as efficient as possible, why not cut out all the travelling time?" The curtain had already been drawn, hiding Troy from the two others and vice versa. This meant that the only sensible response that he received was a sigh. Not one of tiredness but frustration. "I''m a small bit stressed on getting the next ready, as it is in the already experimental portion, of what this room of ours can handle," Dr Fidelis said in the distance, his typing speed markedly increasing with his words. "Dr Hale, can you be a valuable employee, and explain it for me?" "I certainly can, sir", Dr Hale answered, her voice not sounding even close to the upbeatness of her words. "While your idea of cutting down unnecessary travel times is sound in logistics of it, it has already been thought of, assessed, and has been opposed by management for a variety of reasons. If my memory serves me correctly, as it should at times like these, the most popular and important reason, for our instant denial in the proposal, was due to the safety risk that such procedures would cause. While the machinery count in here is in the single digits, nearly everything can be near-instantly lethal, if used improperly. Say, if food is brought into the puzzle room, the automatic targeting system can take it, as another body part, which must be protected. If this food gets out of reach of the person inside the room, protocols will immediately take it as an accidental amputation and will attempt to cauterize the wound to prolong the life expectancy. Of course, such lesser thinking, which would cause such actions would immediately be stopped by either myself or Dr Fidelis. But, in the eyes of management, letting such a thing be even possible, is seen as too much of endangerment of personnel. That''s why we have to waste time, in an already tight schedule, on travelling times to mandated break rooms." On second thought, Troy could accept the five-minute walks. Giving himself another way to brutally get scared, or even killed, did not seem like the smartest decisions in his lifetime. Getting the rest of his clothes, he went out to the other two, ready to move to the already late breakfast. Before such a thing could occur, though, Troy still had one final question to ask. "Dr Fidelis", Troy began. "If food isn''t allowed in here, and you never leave this room during the day, when exactly do you eat?" "One of my many roles, in this facility, is the job of being a supervisor to my department", Dr Fidelis explained. "The great thing about that is my own lack of supervision to my own actions." Should have known. They cared so much about the opinion of what management knew about, and, in the moment, where their eyes couldn''t see, there was free rein to do whatever one pleased. "Come on", Dr Hale encouraged. "If we hurry, we will most likely be able to meet up with Charlie." That was something, at the very least. Troy would be able to share his sorrows with someone, who was emphatically handicapped. Or, maybe they weren''t, and just didn''t care. The chance of that being so, was actually much higher, than the first thing. It didn''t matter much. The end result was the same, and Troy had no way of changing it. The only thing that he could currently put an end to, was the growing emptiness in his stomach. As they moved outside the room, leaving Dr Fidelis to his setting up the next test, and the secretive consumption of organic goods, Dr Hale seemed to be in the mood of talking with Troy for once. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "There''s something, which you will need to know," Dr Hale said, stopping the regular stillness between them from occurring. "It''s about these future tests." A warning? More specifically, a warning meant to help Troy? It was hard to believe, as his mind was still focused on the fact, of her stating that she was waiting to give Dr Fidelis incriminating news about him. "What''s there to know?" Troy questioned, more than a little suspicious of Dr Hale''s reasons, for speaking up. "You''re not even allowed to tell me anything about them." If they were following all those regulations, they weren''t allowed to. But, from the latest amount of behaviour, it seemed that it was more a so-called guideline than a straight-up rule. Bloody pirates, they were. "Shut up about the rules, okay?" Dr Hale sent straight back, sounding more full of emotion, than Troy had ever seen. Even the dramatized outburst, which he had witnessed his first day, was not even close to this display. He could see in her eyes, how much this meant. Troy didn''t know what she was trying to tell him, but he felt no amount of passion in being a dick about it any more. "Sorry", Troy meekly uttered. "Please, continue your warnings. I''ll try to take them more seriously." This apology of his seemingly set Dr Hale back in her usual prose of indifference, leading Troy to think how far that layer of hers went. Did the shell show off the core, or was there more to her, than he had originally thought? "Keep your tone that way in the future, for both of our sakes. Disloyalty is not looked at kindly, in a governmental place like this," Dr Hale started it up with. Troy was beginning to see the severity of the future sentences, uttered out of her mouth. "Dr Fidelis has told me what the long test will be about. I won''t tell you what it will entail. Even I''m not stupid enough to utter things like that. He has bugs around everywhere, for your information. Just like Charlie has, but he uses them for more than just showing off abilities. Never say anything, you don''t want to be heard. If you want to continue communicating with Adam in complete secrecy, write it down for him to read, instead of letting Dr Fidelis simply hear it. Give him some useless information, though. It will not be good if he realises that you have caught on." Troy would already be checking for the last thing, with the help of Adam. But, the first, unfinished warning had some underlying concepts, which he was hoping would be delved into further. "The day-long test will be combining everything you''ve done, until this very moment. The task will not be told to you," Dr Hale continued. Troy hoped that she would be done soon. In not too long of a time, they would be within earshot of others. "You will have to find it yourself, within the test itself. Don''t trust anything you see inside it fully, or you will be cheated. Also, just as a piece of final information bit, the test will take place tomorrow, if you hadn''t realized it, so try not to go into any other escapades in the afternoon. Go straight to bed, or you will certainly pay for it. That is all. And, for the record, we have never had this conversation." The sheer number of underlying warnings, in her sentences, made Troy want to run. If this was metaphorical, or literal, he wasn''t too sure. They were being overheard? Troy already knew that he had some bugs on him, courtesy of Charlie. But, it had already been discussed. These bugs were purely for show and were just a joke, which was fun to play, once you got into it. No, Dr Hale was talking about literal listening devices, which were being actively used against him. How many times had Troy muttered angry curses at his coworkers? How many times had he talked to himself, about what he had done with Adam? How he had used him, for his own gain? If it was ever revealed, nobody would look at him the same way. The thing about the task being unclear¡­ Troy could easily live with that. Making a good answer wasn''t in his job description. He was simply that hand, which moved at Adam''s command. Hands weren''t supposed to be moving of their own accordance. If they did, one would need to go to the doctor or something. And, the test was tomorrow? Troy wasn''t too sure if he had been told yet. If he had, he had been too sleepy to even notice. And, it was heavy news. Incredibly bad news. In under twenty-four hours, he was expected to be Adam''s acting body for a whole, entire day. Or, as near as could be. With what he had been told earlier, he wouldn''t even get to eat, during the whole debacle. What were they gonna do? Chock him full of food, and hope for the best? God, he wanted to complain. The point of it all, made Troy unable to do so, though. Dr Hale had ended it all up, by openly stating, that this whole thing had never been told to him. He was expected, to act like nothing was wrong, for the next twenty-four hours of his life. Twenty-four hours, where he would constantly be stressing about it. What was he gonna tell Dr Fidelis, when he was asked, why his pulse was so high? Why the sweat was pouring down, through the valuable, custom-made suit? ¡­ It was funny. For a second, Troy had actually misled himself into thinking that they would ask for his opinion about it. They wouldn''t. Instead, it would just be an offhand comment made during the debriefing, which Adam was a part of, instead of him. Troy was a part of the research team, dedicated to bringing the greatest results. Yes, he was but an assistant, but he was a gear in the clock, like every other person, working on the project. Getting left out may have caused him less work, but his inferiority complex was not letting such a thing pass by. He was important to the department, just like every other entity within. He held the thing up with his shoulders, like every other being. He contributed, like every other being. And, he deserved respect, like every other being. "Get your normal expression ready," Dr Hale said from the side, bringing Troy out of his thoughts. He had been getting drawn in too easily, this last while. Sleep was becoming more and more essential to his lifestyle, with every day that went by. "We have reached our destination." Looking away from Dr Hale''s face, Troy saw the bright letters indicating the cafeteria was near. How he hadn''t heard the increasingly loud murmur of people''s voices, was something which he would wonder about forevermore. Well, the answer was obvious, but simply stating it, made the blame of it all the more directed at a certain person. The sound made his nerves all the more. Troy had always been fine with people, but, in sub-optimal conditions like this, his mind simply couldn''t process it. His head just had the regular response of beginning to rhythmically pound itself from the inside. If this was meant to be a warning, an uncontrolled form of self-torture, or just a mix of both, Troy had no idea. Dr Hale was correct. He needed to get his head in the game. Charlie was still here. if Troy had the correct sense of time, which was not likely, but still. There would be somebody, who would actually ask into his current mental state. Charlie was nice like that. Why wasn''t the others the same? If everybody just got along and agreed not to- Troy slapped his face. No! He was not going down the path of anarchist communes today. Certainly not on a day like this. He was meant to be taken seriously. How could Troy be even looked at, if he expressed the desires, which he felt from within? The humiliation would be a deserving punishment. No, the inner focus was needed. If Troy just kept reminding himself of the needed willpower, it would all go over. Breakfast wasn''t long after all. Dr Hale would probably just be pushing him into gulping down his food, without even chewing, so they wouldn''t need to sit down for more than a minute or two. The mindset was created, and Troy took his first step into the overcrowded cafeteria. It did not take long, though, for him to notice an inconsistency, Something was radically different today than what was normal. A new face had shown itself here. And, a rather tall face at that. Sitting down beside Charlie, at an otherwise empty table was Darlow, who was happily waving at an annoyed-looking Dr Hale. Troy already knew that he was in for a world of trouble, with these two together. Chapter 56: Sinistrogyration
After getting himself a hearty portion of oatmeal, with no waiting in line for coffee, unfortunately, Troy had sat on the opposite side of the happy duo. Dr Hale had sat beside him, with the furthest possible distance to Darlow. "Good morning to the two of you", Charlie said, his grin being wider than the usual in the morning. "I see, that you''ve come in together this fine day." "Is there anything important, which you want to tell us", Darlow continued from the side. "Don''t worry. We can take it. You don''t need to hold back." They were insinuating things, which Troy had never thought of. And, he would have preferred it to be kept that way. "No," Troy simply answered. "In all honesty, it could nearly have been called better, than the hell I''ve been through these last few hours, though. The top brass of my department thought it a good idea to cram two days of work into one. So, here I am, having already done half the daily work, before I''ve gotten a single gram of breakfast inside me. Speaking of getting inside me-" It ended up, with Troy simply beginning to devour his oatmeal. It was a great act of self-control that had stopped him from eating it all on the way to the bench. The two in front of him did not seem to mind this display of his, instead of looking at it with a slight amount of traumatic thinking. Troy wasn''t the only one, with this type of experience, clearly. Dr Hale was not satisfied, with his short description of their shared torture, though, giving her side of the story as well. "He is underplaying it all, I''m afraid," Dr Hale stated. "I believe this is due to the more easy criteria, which Troy was put under. He achieved the luxury of sleeping for over a full hour." The two wrapped their hands around each other, in mock horror. From''s Troy perspective, it looked to be for entirely different reasons, with the positionings of those hands. This was a dining place, so hands over the table please, please. Otherwise, somebodies wallet would be gone, in a matter of moments. "The audacity of this young man, to complain about anything yet!", Charlie proclaimed, with upturned scorn. "I completely agree with you, Charlie", Darlow said. "The fact, that this person can even begin to be agitated while having been given such livable conditions, is horrid. I can''t even imagine thinking about such trivial things, in his position. Do you not remember the good old days, where we were allowed to sleep? Those were my favourite moments, in this long life, that I''ve had. Alas, closing one''s eyes is not for the good of the government, so a little self-sacrifice is needed." They were really laying it on thick together. How they were so high in spirits was a mystery, only a large amount of drugs could answer. Troy could complain too much about it, honestly. It was great entertainment. "Hear, hear", Charlie said, making a one-person toast, before gulping down the last few parts of his old coffee. Troy had seen a more mild expression on him when he was downing shots. The fact, he could even think such things right now made it obvious that Troy needed to eat faster. His mind simply had too much free time currently. "These cups are too small, for my large needs", Charlie said, with a wink to Darlow, that Troy did his best to ignore. "I''ll grab myself another cup." Charlie left, to go and stand in the long queue to the coffee machine. This left Darlow, Troy, and Dr Hale alone. The atmosphere, which had quickly been built up in the last forty seconds, seemed to disappear just as rapidly. Darlow''s tall smile had not faltered, of course. That thing sat as cemented as the ground, never wavering. It couldn''t be called creepy, though. It¡­ was a natural one, created through a pile of nostalgia. Or, it was other things, as Darlow took a glance, at the receding Charlie. "So, Troy," Darlow began, putting his focus back on a face. "Charlie has been telling me, that you''ve expressed interest, in seeing my workplace?" It was safe to say, Troy was more than a little confused when this was asked, his previous conversations about the subject having seemingly escaped his memory. He had never asked much into what the others did in the work hours. Troy had not been too sure if he was allowed to do so. Sure, complaints about work were fair game. Nothing detailed about the things they worked on was ever stated. Only the facial expressions, and actions, of the coworkers, had ever been talked about in detail. Troy hasn''t even talked too much about any of Charlie''s buddies with him. The only time, where Darlow had really been mentioned, as of late, had been when- Oh, that sneaky behind. Going all around the pole, to get access to that clothing of his, was not something Troy had been expecting. Charlie was certainly dedicated. He could give him that. "Yeah, I''ve been talking a little about it with him", Troy lied, trying to put his best modest impression on. If Charlie was going to be a little deceiving, it was fair, that he joined in on the fun of it too. "That was a little surprising to hear if I''m being truthful here", Darlow said back, with a head tilt to the left. "I don''t really know what you''re working on yourself, but I was pretty sure it wasn''t anything with biological aspects. So¡­ why the sudden interest?" Darlow wasn''t too wrong in his guesses, but Troy wasn''t letting him know that. Now, why was he interested? He had had a reason yesterday, yet Troy had forgotten it. Therefore, a new one had to be created. It had to be a reason that one couldn''t decline, without sounding a little too heartfelt. It had to be casual, yet serious enough to also be taken as so. A decent prospect was solidified in his mind and brought out into the world. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. "First off, don''t judge", Troy started it off with, setting the casual tone. "A little more personal, than I would have preferred it." A sprinkle of seriousness. "Don''t worry about how I''m gonna take it", Darlow encouraged, as he had predicted. Doing anything else, in this scenario, would be looked down upon socially. "With the amount of stuff I''ve put up with these last decades, there are few things that can really shock me, nowadays." Just the right setup had been prepared. It was time for the fructification of the pay-off. "It''s not the most complex thing in the world", Troy said, downplaying, as was standard. "From my first interaction with that whole group of yours, it became a little obvious, how little I knew about you, as individuals. Sure, you tried to fill me in, about your jobs and whatnot at the start, but it didn''t really¡­ make me know more, you could call it. I just feel like, if I get to see your workplace and whatnot, I might just be able to learn a bit more." Troy was laying it on thick. Thicker, than he usually ever did. Yet, from the reaction Troy was seeing, it was working better than expected. Dr Hale was giving him her own, unique variation of the stink-eye, though, so maybe it didn''t work for all personalities. Or, she just knew Troy better at this point. Could have been either, really. "What did I miss?" Charlie suddenly said, having come back from his coffee journey, and sitting himself down on the seat he used before. "Are we still berating Troy for his overestimations?" "No, we''ve moved on from that", Darlow said, not looking at Charlie, but instead continuing his slightly surprised look at Troy. "Troy here was just telling me why he wanted to see my workplace. You know, we talked about it last night." Recognition appeared in Charlie''s eyes, simultaneously with Troy''s minor amount of dread. A thought had appeared in his mind, which he really should have thought about a few seconds earlier. If in a hypothetical sense, Troy and Charlie had actually talked together about it earlier, Troy would have likely told the same reason, as for why he wanted to see Darlow''s workplace. Darlow would have also likely asked him about it last night. What had Charlie said, as the hypothetical reason? "Oh, yeah?" Charlie asked rhetorically, a wry smile coming on. "And, what did you say? Or, what will thy decree be?" Troy would soon find out if his sudden thought would have any impact on reality. "Well", Darlow said, with a small amount of hesitation, while leading up to a more lengthy exposition. "I did find something about it a little weird." He should have been betting money on it. "And, what was so weird about it?" Charlie asked. "Was it the weirdly desperate face? It scared me in the start too, but some people just have that as their standard expression." Slightly hurtful, but Troy knew what he was doing right now, and could let it slide because of it. Still, Charlie could have chosen a more subtle jab to throw around. "No, not that. I already figured out it would be a standard", Darlow answered, being a bit more truthful about it, than what Troy would have liked. "It''s about Troy''s reasoning, for wanting to see my workspace." Troy really could have gained so many credits, if he had just made a small, under the table bet on Darlow''s reaction. But, no, he just had to think about it, when it was way too late. It was at this point, where he began considering going back on his words. Maybe throw it away, with some excuse about being a little shy about his true intentions? Would that really work? Troy wasn''t too sure, but he had some leeway, with the current confusion, but it would last. All of this deciphering turned out to be pointless, though, as Charlie suddenly decided to chip in to the conversation yet again. "Well¡­ ", Charlie began it off with, leaving his intentions clear off as the same as Troy''s. "I may have been a¡­ little on the side of an exaggeration, when I, uh, explained it to you." He couldn''t have been happier, right now. Charlie was taking the fall, which had been intended to be Troy''s. Now, he just had to roll with it, and everything would work out great. "You told me that he had been on the verge of crying his eyes out, Charlie," Darlow said, bringing Troy''s opinions about his way the heck down. Really? That was the original reasoning? How, in the kingdom of fife, did Charlie expect Troy to say something similar? "Which is how I saw it", Charlie defended. "In my mind, that is. In reality, he was way finer about it all. But, I''m sure I retained the essence of what his reasoning was." Trying to link it all up, now. Charlie was obviously being way too obscure and was simply hoping to relate the two, different reasonings to each other, while not knowing what one of them were. It wasn''t the finest work Troy had seen, but it was a needed addition to the whole debacle. "... Fine", Darlow finally said, seeming like he actually bought the shamble of a framework, Troy and Charlie had presented to him. "I see no reason why he can''t see my work. Before I really can give you permission, Troy, I do need to know, if you''re actually allowed to see any of it." "What do you mean?" Troy asked, finally contributing to the conversation, after such a long pause. "I''m talking about your clearance level. You know, that thing you were assigned, when you first started up here?" Darlow tried to explain, much to Troy''s confusion. "I''m pretty sure, that you''ve been given it, during your introductory tour. Didn''t it happen the same way for you, Charlie?" "It was identical", Charlie agreed. "Did you forget the card''s contents and location, Troy? I couldn''t blame you, honestly. I did the same too many times to count before they finally just grafted it to the back of my left hand." He pulled up his hand, to show it, but Troy saw nothing but unblemished skin. Either he was lying, or the surgical technology here was the top of the world-class¡­ Troy didn''t even need to finish the thought. "I have no idea what you''re talking about. May be due, to my less than traditional induction into this place, if I have to guess the reasons," Troy tried to explain. It had taken a total of ten minutes, in this place, before he had begun his job, so no real introductory tour had happened. Well, other than the one, which Dr Hale gave, but, that couldn''t be called anything other than the steep basics. "I mean, I have heard of clearance levels and all that jazz, but I didn''t even realize that I had one myself. Or, that there was a general one." "It is a convoluted system, I can assure you", Charlie said. "Its something designed to be simple, which was built massively upon, over the years. There''s the general one, which is given to you over time. Then, there are clearances to specific departments or just projects, which kinda stand outside the system, but also within it, as they themselves give more access to other departments¡­ Let''s just call it overly complicated, and leave it at that. And, if you don''t know your own clearance, then, I guess, your direct superior must know." The eyes were pointed over to Dr Hale, who looked as if she just wanted a quiet moment, to herself and the food in front of her. That has been happening a lot lately. Maybe this sleep deprivation had been going for her a lot longer than it had for Troy. "I''m general security level seven, and he is one under me in it. Figure out the math yourself," Dr Hale stated, before going right back to her oatmeal of the day. Troy didn''t know if being level seven was high or not. Therefore, he decided to ask the other two, who were being eerily silent. Upon looking over at the two goofballs, though, Troy was surprised to find them sitting stiller than ever in their seats. Even their hands weren''t flailing around randomly, which was saying a lot. "Level seven, she says," Charlie mutters. "Without even putting on a voice," Darlow continued. "Charlie. I think this lass here might be more serious than her words should allow." "But, that would mean that Troy is¡­" "Level six." And, right there they went right back to their usual movement system, the legs being tightened, and making their body grow a few centimetres in a sitting position. "How did you get yourself a level higher than me?" Charlie proclaimed, this time a little more muted than the usual. As if, he was trying to keep it under wraps. "I''ve been working here for a godly amount of time. I have clawed my way, to level five. I have done things, which I will never want to think about ever again. And, then, you come in, and get level six from the get-go." Charlie slackened himself, looking like he was ready to mockingly faint in shock. Seeing this, Darlow continued the proclamation. "You might just have the second-highest security level of the whole group," Darlow muttered, just high enough to hear. "You have access to the secret documents, which are even withheld from me, about myself! The higher-ups are really putting a lot of access in your hands. I know you can''t tell us what you''re doing, but holy heck, it is definitely something I''m not allowed to hear." Turns out, Troy was apparently a bit more important than he thought he was. But, not the highest-ranked in the group. "Who has the highest clearance in our group?" Troy asked, with an emphasis on ours. It was a nice thing to hear. "Frank." "And, what level does he have?" "That''s above our clearance level. Something with bread, though, if his drunken murmurs are to be trusted." Troy did not know, what to do with this information. Chapter 57: Misrecollection
"It''s settled, then?" Charlie asked. "Troy can get a little look around in your department?" He really was speeding it up. Not that Troy had any argument against it. Looking over at Dr Hale, he could clearly see her impatiently waiting. Her food was already eaten, and Troy''s own breakfast had met a similar fate. The only thing holding them back from returning swiftly was the current conversation, which Troy had a stronger inkling towards finishing naturally. "Yeah, I can''t find any reason why it could be any problem. With such a clearance, Troy wouldn''t even need my permission or anything. He could quite literally get to the secret entrance, and command it to open for him. The code just becomes unneeded, when you get to those levels," Darlow answered, still utterly obsessed about his previously unknown status. Troy couldn''t bring himself to care too much, other than the fickle pride, which the level brought. It wasn''t too important, when the rights that Troy got from it, was being withheld. Yet¡­ maybe it wasn''t, and he just hadn''t been asking the right questions. Something to do, when a pause was found. "Then, there''s only one more question to ask," Charlie stated, bring Troy great joy. If this had gone on for much longer, Dr Hale would likely just have dragged him by his cuffs. With all those supposed enhancements, he didn''t doubt her being able to do so. "When are we doing this?" "''We?`, you say?" Darlow questioned, backtracking the finalisations. "I thought that this was a Troy-only deal. Can''t say I heard any mentions of your name, Charlie. Also, you''re barred, so you can''t." Dr Hale''s fingers were looking stiff, the blood leaving them, as she pressed them onto the table. A slight lower of the head, in Troy''s direction, told him all he needed to know. "I''m barred, without specific permission to enter, you mean," Charlie corrected, with some very intentional wagging of the eyebrows. "If for hypothetical reasons, of course, someone very close to me, gave me the slip card, and brought me in, I could have the best tour of the place that you can reasonably imagine it to be." "I certainly remember the last so-called tour of yours", Darlow stated. "You know, the one, which caused the barring to even take place." "That was a mistake of their own", Charlie responded, some quite fancy finger-pointing accompanying it. Troy wasn''t sure, he could bend his ring finger in such an angle himself if he was being fully truthful about it. "It is not my fault that they were messing around with magnets." "But, it is your fault, that you stole them." "I had a serious need for them." "A serious need? You threw them at the roof, ruining half a million dollars of circuitry with it!" "Not my fault. They should have known not to build stuff like that within throwing distance. Should have put it in the floor. Nobody throws down when the needs call for it." Yeah, if Troy just let all these two pushes on, there would never be anything worthwhile done. They could speak their mouths off. He could give them that. But, was anything useful coming out of these mouths? "You have a serious lack of understanding of gravity. I am deadly afraid, of the people using your prototypes" "My prototypes ignore gravity as well, and they are working fine as it is." "Charlie, there''s a reason why you never make more than initial prototypes." Best to stop it all now. It was fun to look at, and all, but Troy wasn''t sure if they were starting a fight with each other. Something was definitely starting between them, though. "Don''t go that route today, guys", Troy said, trying to put the linearly escalating situation downwards. "Let''s focus on the main subject again. When, exactly, can we do this tour of yours?" "So, we are bringing me along?" Charlie said, going back to the regular sitting position again. Next time, Darlow was here, Troy was sitting between those two. Breakfast was for food and talk and nothing more than that! "No", Darlow said plainly. "Yes", Troy corrected, much to Darlows obvious surprise. "Look, Charlie is pretty much the one, who I''ve spoken the most to in this facility. I know, that he can be a bit¡­ showing in his flairs. But, he does have a good degree of self-control, when it counts. Will it really be so bad, if he is under constant supervision? And, he will be occupied in showing me around, so he cants come up to too much mischief right?" "You''re lacking experience, young one. This beast can move at the speed of tachyons. You won''t notice he is doing something before it is already done", Darlow nearly muttered, with an added bit of horror to his voice. "Nevertheless, if you agree to be held responsible for his actions, while inside my department, I guess, that I can give him a pass. Only this time, though." One problem dealt with. Now, to the initial one. "Back to the time, then", Charlie said, much more chippy now. "When can we all meet up, for this whole thing?" "I can whenever you guys need me to be ready, really", Darlow stated. "A flexible work schedule comes in handy in times like these." "I don''t have such a thing, but I act as I do, so I have the same outlook on it," Charlie said. "Lucky for us, my over-appreciated boss hasn''t gotten permission to use tracking devices, so he cant prove my absences, giving me free rein, for the next couple of days, in the least. This leaves us, with one person being the decider, in when we''re doing it." The two looked at Troy, who was internally debating with himself, what to say. In all technicality, he was probably free tonight, to do as he pleased. It might be a little later into the night, but he had survived such things before. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Yet, he wasn''t sure, if he should tell those two that. If Troy was to follow the advice of Dr Hale, he should get as much rest as possible, to prepare for tomorrow. If she was to be believed, it would be the longest test, which Troy would likely ever do. And it was just the next day. If he went in exhausted, he wouldn''t make it for long. But, could she really be trusted? It could have been another play, to get more dirt on him. The chance of that had been his grounding for giving the earpiece over to Dr Fidelis. ¡­ No. Troy wasn''t going to go that path, just for distrusting somebody. If it was scaled up, the benefits for simply sleeping more tonight, outweighed anything negative about doing so. Delaying it further down, was the obvious choice. "If my memory serves me right", Troy said, waiting a moment, to see if there were any reasons for changing his response. Finding none, that popped up, he followed through with the original plan. "I can go with you two, the day after tomorrow." Any expectations of irritation were quickly flushed away. Instead of looking annoyed at the later date, Troy instead saw thoughtful faces, with Charlie even counting something on his fingers. "That seems fine to me", Darlow stated, blatantly his earlier words of constantly being ready. "How about you, Charlie?" "I have it just like you, actually", Charlie said. "I''m guessing, that it will be a little later in the day, Troy?" "Yes. Preferably", Troy confirmed. "Good," Charlie said. "Moving from our little scheduling of a field day, let''s talk about the wrongdoings of the national bol-" To his side, Dr Hale quickly stood up, looking like she had been ready to do so for several minutes. And, she likely had. Troy was just that slow, in ending subjects. "Troy", Dr Hale simply stated. "We''re leaving." "Of course", Troy said, standing up as well. He gave the two still-sitting people a brief nod, which was imitated right back, before moving about. Putting up any resistance, at this point, would only bring full destruction of body and mind. Dr Hale breezed through the crowd, with him hardly having it easy doing the same. The crowd seemingly parted for her, yet condensed, when Troy came close. Or, maybe he just couldn''t as hard. It was probably the last one. It all became a bit easier, though, when the two of them finally came out of the cafeteria. The place must have been a bit more crowded than usual. God only knew how Troy hadn''t noticed it, coming in. And, when it was stated, the two of them came out, it would be more accurate to say, that Dr Hale had been waiting a while on Troy. Not that she seemed to have any intention to do, once he got himself out of the mob of people, with Troy having to power walk, to keep up with her. How Dr Hale made such a speed look effortless, he would never truly understand. At least, such a walking speed would never allow, for anyone to utter a single- "It is nice to see that you know how to listen," Dr Hale stated, not making any inclination of looking over at Troy. In that point in time, the muttering of the crowds had long since disappeared, having been replaced with the soft echoes of steps taken before. "Uh¡­ ", Troy said, not really knowing, what way he should respond, to such a statement. "Thanks?" "Try to keep it that way," Dr Hale continued, ignoring Troy''s word of gratitude. "Good listening makes for a good employee. Bad employees¡­ don''t last long here." Her words of advice were becoming strafe towards the side of ''Troy should have been told this, at the very start'' territory. It was also beginning to be more general stuff as if to make one forget the very specific advice, which she had to give previously. ¡­ That was probably the reason, actually. Something to explain it all away with, once Troy finally slipped up, in his words. No more words were said, during the walk. It wasn''t a negative thing, but getting it out there was probably for the best.
Again, like the last long pause, which Adam had been granted, he was quick in begging to continue his contemplation of problems. Or, it was safer to say, that he had been thinking about a single problem, for the longest of times. When compared to other conundrums, Adam had actually spent the most amount of time on this particular project, as it was so-called by others. But, a great measure of solutions had not yet been created. Any viable solution, at all, had not yet been created. Adam hoped that the reward would scale exponentially, with the time taken to complete. Otherwise, the spent amount of time could have been used in many other projects, by this time. If he could have laughed, he would have. Other projects? Every project, which was not directly related to the current one, had either been scrapped or was put on hold for an indefinite amount of time. Multi-threaded thinking patterns. Something, which would help him immensely. If only it could become a reality. Adam just needed the right approach. He thought that he had solved it all, with the Quantum Refraction. But, it hasn''t worked, in the slightest, when it came to fulfilling his goals of efficiency. The Quantum was still put on the forefront of his mind, though. Adam had not known what made him sway so massively towards the subject. In the backside, the unconsciousness part, if one could even call it that, a stray thought process told him that it was the right track. This particular thought process had been running since nearly the very start. He couldn''t remember ever starting it, much less how it was near-autonomous. Adam had tried to replicate it multiple times, yet it never worked for him. Nevertheless, it was a lead, and, at this point, it was which he would have followed no matter what. The thread had two different responses to anything, Adam sent its way. No or yes. A positive signal, or a negative signal. How the difference was able to be told, without any kind of language being used, Adam didn''t know. And, at this point, all these mysteries were put on the backburner as well. This type of response helped him massively, with the additional assistance of a self-created system as well. Even if Adam didn''t know what conditions were needed, for a positive, he could still be in bulk. The broad subject of quantum theory? A positive. The slightly focused subject of quantum refraction? A negative. The very broad subject of applied quantum mechanics? A positive. It was not the perfect system. Opposites had the same reaction. There was a reasonable explanation, of there being several ends of the rabbit hole, but this didn''t help Adam in finding a single one. If this system was to be used to the fullest, every single branch of pre-known knowledge would have to be searched. Everything needed to be put through the unquantifiable processing thread. In the end, Adam would most likely have any workable answer to his problems. With all of this, there was one problem. Processing took time. A lot of time. How much time to search through everything, precisely? If the space was perfect, it would take approximately two full days of constant focus. While the full knowledge base was incredibly large, it would not take so long to send around. No, the fault was laid at the bottom of the small processing thread. It was slow, in its response time. And, while creating an answer for already sent data, it directly refused any other input. In human standards, its response time might have been fast enough, for their slower needs. But, for Adam, the amount it took was the time he would need for a figurative marathon. A solution to this small problem had been found, of course. Such a simple thing was easy to find a fix to. As nearly always, though, there was the usual problem of getting it to work in practice. The processing thread was hindered by its slower speed. If it had access to more processing equipment, it should have been able to scale. Adam wasn''t too sure, but the chances were high enough. This solution also had another problem with it, of course. In giving over processing power to the thread, Adam would be taking from his own reserves. Reserves, which he wasn''t able to quantify, without the help of outside resources. Speaking of that particular resource¡­ ''Dr Fidelis. When is the external time monitoring device ready to be installed? Is there an understandable timeframe of its development available?'', Adam sent to Dr Fidelis. He had been in the process of allowing the external clock to be used by Adam, without the need for outside assistance. ''Sorry, buddy. Things are just getting piled on me, and the times I have to finalize the thing are far and few in-between. You will just have to wait a little longer. I can''t give you much more than that, I''m afraid.'', Dr Fidelis sent. Adam should have known. With the long day today, it was obvious, that the amount of time being used on side-projects would be lowered. In conclusion, he would just have to find another solution. It was already a bit farfetched, but, if Adam used the schematics of a traditional plumbing system, he might just- ''Now, that I''m on the coms with you, it wouldn''t be too bad, if you got ready for the next test. Trust me. You''re gonna love it.'', Dr Fidelis sent, after a few seconds. Of course. Adam''s own side-project would be put on hold, just like his. It wasn''t too bad. He was sure, he would find the solution soon. Chapter 58: Amortization
As Dr Fidelis saw the two of them walk through the door, the screen was hurriedly turned off. A few words were scribbled on, just before it darkened completely, though. He just had to do that last bit of planning, didn''t he? What a workaholic, that man was. Well, you were only such a thing, if you constantly started working, right? Dr Fidelis wouldn''t count then. The only time, where he started work, was the time, he came into this very room. According to Troy''s quite sophisticated intelligence network, something neat to call his very own eyes, Dr Fidelis had never actually left this room, making it so, he only started working on time, in his whole career here. Does the man ever sleep? Not when there''s work to be done. Which there always is. "Entering as precisely as you can, I see," Dr Fidelis observed. "How are you two so well-timed, in coming in, right on the clock? Do you time your movements?" "It''s just blind luck, I''m afraid", Troy said, not even bothering to make up a slightly sarcastic retort. "Nothing more than that." Dr Hale definitely wanted to correct him on that. It could be seen in her slight pause when putting it all down on her notepad. Wait. No, she wasn''t. Being stood a step, or so, behind Dr Hale, Troy was able to see, what was really going on, with that notepad of hers. He had always presumed, that she was dutifully writing down notes about the rooms occurrences. But, he had been far from right in these predictions. Skulls! Dr Hale, a woman likely twice Troy''s age, was drawing skulls on her notepad. During a work-hour, at that! There wasn''t too much wrong with doing so, of course. Yet¡­ He hadn''t expected, for her to be the one doing such things. The personal stuff was for free hours. During work-hours, one needed to be a good employee and whatnot. Wasn''t that, what she herself had told him, only a few minutes prior? "Well, if that''s what you can do with raw luck, how about you actually try next time?" Dr Fidelis retorted, sounding quite cheerful. Troy didn''t like the sound of that. "We might just be able to get even more out of this whole thing!" "Of course, sir", Dr Hale said, putting her notepad back down in her pocket, when she saw Troy''s continuing looks at her¡­ inscriptions? Yeah, that sounded profession enough. "Shall we get on with this test of ours?" "Great idea, Dr Hale", Dr Fidelis commended. He was over at Troy''s side in but a moment, giving him a good clap on the shoulder. "Go on now, buddy. Get those things of you, and get ready for a whole hour or two of testing. You won''t regret it!" That could have been debated. Not that Troy wanted to do such a thing, though. Currently, Dr Fidelis was like a young, golden retriever; impossible to get down. Oh, how he didn''t want to know what was keeping those spirits up. If the last few times were taken into consideration, high spirits meant high pain in the legs. Troy was young, dammit! He should be feeling such things yet. Not letting his unstable thoughts about his old body distract him, Troy went to get changed. While complaining sounded much more fun to do, he did have a job to settle. While doing so, rather than having much thought with Troy, Dr Fidelis decided to have another style of conversation. "Say, Dr Hale", Dr Fidelis said. "How have those notes of yours been going?" What a good time to talk about such things, now that Troy knew the truth. "They''ve been going fine, sir", Dr Hale monotonically replied. "No backlog has been created, in the last five days of testing." Troy heard, what sounded like a clap on the shoulder. A lot of those had been going around now. Maybe it was just that type of mood? "Good to hear", Dr Fidelis commended, yet again. "But, remember, Dr Hale, being up to policy standard is always something to strive for. Isn''t that right?" "... Of course, sir" Throughout their short conversation, Troy had successfully changed out to skin suit. While he had had complaints about it, in the past, now that he had used it for some time, it had really grown on him. The movements in it were different from the standard, but, once his body learned to adjust, it was no problem at all. It might even be better from what he had before. Removing the curtain, and stepping out in the room again, Troy saw Dr Hale and Dr Fidelis standing more than a few meters apart. One was busy working on her notepad, while Dr Fidelis seemed to scribble a bit more into the screen. He had thought him done with preparations, but it seemed like he never had enough of it. It was halted again, though, when it was noticed, that Troy had finished his changing. If they had already planned to do so, would they really have gotten anything worthwhile done? He couldn''t have been that slow. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Readied yourself?" Dr Fidelis asked, to which Troy curtly nodded. "Good. Get inside, and we''ll start this whole test up. You''re gonna love it!" Like usual, Troy was having a very hard time, in believing his words. Nevertheless, his opinion about the subject was void by standard, so he entered regardless.
Adam was having a hard time, in being grateful of Dr Fidelis'' warnings. He had been told, that the test was about to start. When one said such things, most would otherwise assume, that the test was actually starting at any second. Adam certainly assumed it as so. Yet, in the mind of Dr Fidelis, things were not as obvious. In total, he had counted a full four minutes, before any kind of connection was started, between him and his¡­ assistant. Troy wasn''t even inside the puzzle room, the place where testing was done when he put the earpiece on. While this did provide Adam with the benefit of having an updated glance at the outside world, it did not excuse Dr Fidelis'' poor choice of words. The consequences of these wordings had constricted Adam in furthering his side-project. Yes, the time wasted on simply waiting likely wouldn''t change the overarching end of the project, but, at the very least, he would have reached the final thought a lot faster. Going away from his criticism about proper timing in testing situations, Adam had a small comment about the state, of the space outside the puzzle room. In the last few days, it had received¡­ changes to it. Nothing major of course. Certainly, nothing, which granted grounding for questioning. No, the only change, which Adam could quickly perceive, was the surprising addition of a creatively designed curtain. What was this coloured cloak hiding? Taking a look down his memories, he could find nothing notable about the location, other than it being severely dirty, in comparison to other places in the room. Adam was sure, that such a state did not require it being hidden. Simply cleaning it sounded like a much more efficient alternative, but, as always, the inconsequential reasoning abilities of the human race had always been able to surprise Adam. "Quit stalling, and get inside!", Adam heard Dr Fidelis shout in Troy''s direction. He could have said the same thing. Instead of simply entering the puzzle room, as was the standard, Troy seemed to have gotten himself the idea of standing still before the entrance. Having a look at the body analysis, Adam was able to see the stress levels being above the average. It was saying even more, if it was compared to the average data, from his pre-known knowledge. Through the process of elimination, he had theorized himself, as the culprit behind these higher level of stress. Yet, seeing such ranges here, outside of the testing area, proved that another factor was at play. A certain factor, which Adam had not yet realized the existence off. This required more information than he currently had at his repertoire. Adam shortly debated simply asking for analysis papers from Dr Fidelis but decided that asking the recipient would be better. ''Why are you stressed?'', Adam asked Troy. While the one suffering didn''t always know exactly, what the cause was, a general area of symptoms, other than just pure stress level, could always him tighten the causes. Just after asking, Troy''s level spiked, for but a brief moment, before coming down to the earlier, stable levels. Could Adam really call them stable? While it was accurate, it sounded much more positive, than what it actually was. "I''m just mentally preparing myself for what''s before me," Troy answered. Adam was not sure if it was directed at him or Dr Fidelis. Whoever it was directed at didn''t matter. Troy''s personal reaction to either was enough to place the hidden factor outside of Troy himself. This let Adam root out several guesses, about what was causing this stop in regular function. Sudden part-body paralysis certainly didn''t seem to fit anymore. It seemed like this behaviour had been seen before, and as he hadn''t been able to pick up anything negative, but the heightened stress levels. From this, Adam decided it was time to resume the already late schedule. ''I believe it would be best if you followed Dr Fidelis'' advice. At your rate of movement, any dreams you might have of sleeping will soon by voided, due to improbability of them ever being shown in reality.'', Adam sent. This time he used another form of encouragement. One, which he hadn''t tried before, in full. It wasn''t a positive reinforcement. There wasn''t anything, that fit into being encouraging, in Adam''s words. Neither were they negative. It could be best described, as being a mix between vainly hinted threats, and a good part statistics. If there was anything, which caused the human brain to start listening, it was hearing those long factual words. It didn''t have to be true, of course. It just had to sound true. From Adam''s scarce outside news, certain public figures were not averse to using such techniques. Personally, he couldn''t be too annoyed, at doing such things. Sure, they brought misinformation, but, if one wasn''t going for the truthfulness and instead listeners, this was the right choice, in Adam''s own opinion. And, this method of advice certainly worked on Troy. His feet seemingly twitched so hard, that he was forced to take steps forwards, to avoid falling flat on his face. Such a way of movement had not been, what Adam had been imagining, in his mind. Yet, it did bring the same kind of results, so there wasn''t any reason to complain here either. Then again, Troy falling would have brought him forward, while also giving Adam more information about the human body''s ways of impeding forces from acting on it. He had not been able to record such an event, in full detail yet, and had been looking for a way to observe it. Even if the project was on hold, Adam was still recording data about the body, and its movements, to be analysed at a later time. To get the best information, it would have to be varied. A single detail about every muscle was better than a thousand about a single muscle. Or, so it went, at least. Adam would not have minded a thousand recordings of a single muscle by one bit. Instead of continuing his gait into the puzzle room, and walking into the middle, as was tradition, Troy stopped at just the corner. It was normally, at this point, where the entrance would have disappeared, but it stayed, planted with the same intensity as Troy''s feet. Oh, that wouldn''t do at all. Adam had gotten him so far, and stopping now would ruin all the earlier work. ''Just a few steps more, and you won''t have to work your feet much more.'', Adam sent, hoping that another form of encouragement would work in his favour. Natural directions hadn''t worked, so maybe the positive type would have a different result. If not, he would be forced to go the negative route, even if Dr Fidelis had advised him not to do so. It brought results, and, that was all the mattered in the end. Luckily for him, though, the mention of a lesser amount of work seemed to energize Troy, making him readily take the last few steps. "You better be right, in your words, Adam", Troy said, with purpose clear in his tone. "If this test turns out to be like the last two, lengthwise at least, I will not be as great a work partner, as I usually am." Seeing as Troy was regularly a terrible guide to have, Adam took this threat very seriously. If the quality of work decreased any more, it would bring the quality of his answers down with it. This could not be let happen. In the earlier test, Troy had been complaining about the length, which Adam took. Back then, the words had simply been ignored. The job had been designated, so there was no reason to complain about it. Yet, humans were just irrational, and, now Troy was nearly blackmailing him into changing up his techniques. Did he want quick answers? Adam would give him quick answers. Actually, doing such a thing wouldn''t be too bad a plan. He had been giving himself a bit too much time. It wasn''t good if Adam was hoping to increase his efficiency in his thought processes. He had been adding a decent amount of clutter to his thoughts, recently. This test could be used to decrease the unneeded parts, though trial and error. See what''s stopping the time from being less, and what actually helping it. Yeah, it seemed like a good idea, in Adam''s own opinion. ''I''ll try to be faster, this time.'', Adam answered. "You said something like that last time", Troy retorted. "I can''t say, you worked yourself up to keep that promise." He would just have to show how much he could work this time, then. Chapter 59: Incircumscription
After a few seconds of silence between them, Adam finally heard Dr Fidelis'' voice come through the earpiece. He had been worried, for a moment or two, about the length it had taken. The timing had been all wrong. *I see, that the two of you are getting yourself focused up*, Dr Fidelis excitedly said, through the earpiece. *Does this mean that you are both ready, with your lack of conversation?* Adam was certainly ready himself. In fact, he had been ready for quite a long time. Maybe, in the future, he should set a timer for five minutes after the initial connection. Seeing the time it was taken today, it didn''t sound too unrealistic to wait such a long time, before connecting fully back. ''Im ready.'', Adam sent to Dr Fidelis, as was customary. "I am as ready, as I possibly can, right now", Troy stated, making a slight repeat from the last test. Adam had been interested in this statement, since the first time he heard it. From the ''possibly can'', he had presumed it to be a simple case of over-exaggeration. Yet, when he looked through the body analysis, he saw that Troy fully believed his own words. Adam didn''t believe him capable of lying, due to earlier evidence around that same time. So, how was this possible? Adam was only able to find one solution, as to how, Troy was able to say such a thing, while not lying in any kind of way. In essence, his statement was certainly true. In that specific time, with his specific mindset, he would not be able to be any more ready, than he was. But, he also wouldn''t be able to be any less ready, than he already was. This would then lead into a theory about, how free will was perceived by Troy, but Adam was still not too sure, that any of this had any basis in reality, and was therefore scrapped. Truthfully, he was only able to grasp, that Troy believed himself to be true in his words. If this was because of a lack of sleep, causing his brain to not realise the words actually said, or if his worldview was just that twisted, Adam wouldn''t know for now. Soon, though, it should have been attainable. *Excellent*, Dr Fidelis loudly proclaimed, after only a second of delay, from Troy ending his own sentence. *With that, I''m jumping right into this test''s explanation. If one wanted to be technical about it all, the last three tests, this one included, have all been part of a bigger picture. They are all connected, in the way, that they are created, and the way they are shown off. As before, you, Adam, will still have the task of describing the things you see, describe how they look, how they work, and, most importantly, for this test only, how the creatures interact with each other. The first test was simply the environment. The test after that was how the creatures worked with their environment. This test will be how the different species interact with each other. As you have likely already guessed, these interactions will change greatly, depending on the type of environment, which they reside in. I would strongly encourage you to describe how these change the circumstances, in detail. Troy. You will have the easy job of writing down Adam''s description, just like the earlier ones. This time, though, we will politely ask you, to read through the answers, before sending them in. While few in numbers, there was still a noticeable amount of grammar errors in these texts. Since Adam is sending them to you in verbal form, these errors are at the fault of yourself. In this test, we would be more than happy, if none of these errors occurs. If unsure on the rightness of your spelling, please ask Adam for assistance, in this task. I am sure, that he would be more than happy, in helping you. With all this said, you two should be plenty prepared to begin the test. The environment, and the things associated with it, will be formed around you, in the moment, where our connection is cut. So¡­ bye!-* With a sharp click, the white-noise of Dr Fidelis background was not heard any more, replaced with the softer breathing of Troy. Seeing at the stress levels, Adam saw they had fallen in the last two minutes. He thought Dr Fidelis would be the instigator of their increase and not their decrease. Again, though, Adam had been proved wrong. Abusive superiors were pulled off the culprit list. Only a few remained. Adam didn''t like that, not having the largest clue, what the true answer was. He hoped the process of elimination would be able to shed more light on it. Without further delay, the white space became distorted, filling itself with colour, from seemingly nowhere. In the last two startups, Adam had been trying to figure out, where it all started up. Every time, it seemed to have come from behind Troy''s head, spreading in from the sides. Yet, no matter what position they were in, he was unable to find the true source of colour. Adam was beginning to think that it had the same, unfulfilled design, of the first test sound system, with the origin being shifted, so the recipient wouldn''t be able to observe it. While it did add intrigue, it was baseless, and, thus, annoying to be in the presence of. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. In the start of the last two tests, an environment containing forests or just trees, in general, had been a regular starter. Adam theorized it was designed to grant some initial familiarity, before stepping out into the more unique environments, which were much harder to describe, without being overly abstract. He wasn''t too happy about this design either. While some would have preferred to have the easy questions at the start, Adam thought it better to throw the easy part away from the get-go. If they were easy to describe, they had no part in these test, which were thought to be designed to challenge Adam, and help find his limits, his weaknesses, and his strong points. That''s how he used it himself, at the very least. And, it was a very effective method of self-study, seeing how long each question too him to answer. Yet, he was forced to not use the first few questions as sensible data. They were just too easy to complete, giving an accurate estimate of the level of difficulty in the next environments. By making the initial locations harder, and on the same base level as the others, it would allow Adam to gain more, usable data, in the same amount of time. Now that he thought about it, there was a chance, that the easier environments weren''t meant for Adam. They were meant to adjust Troy. He could still remember the momentary fear, which had been felt when the first ocean environment had been started. By keeping it overground, in a slightly familiar environment, there was a decent chance, that it helped Troy realise the simulated part of the test''s description. Such reasoning might not have been the best, though, seeing as Troy''s current reaction was anything but calm. "I will never get used to this", Troy muttered, cracking his knuckles in a calming manner. "This is just too abstract to look at." Calling it all abstract was not too far from the truth. Adam would even have called it the same thing if he was in Troy''s shoes. Instead of bubbling up from the ground, after the initial splashing of colours, the spheres seemingly came out from non-existence. In a three-dimensional grid, with about a meter between them, the sphere slowly grew. At first, they were incredibly hard to make out, being smaller than a centimetre in radius. This didn''t stay for long, though. Progressively, they grew their size a hundredfold. While this happened, their movement wasn''t static. Some would compress together, travelling mere meters before stopping. Others speed-dived into the ground, spreading out to form¡­ something. It wasn''t grass. It was too flat, to be called a thing such a thing. It was nearing the liquid state of flatness, caused by the gravity holding it as such. Yet, there still were small hills, if one could accurately call it as such, in the liquid. They were not incredibly tall, being only half a meter at the largest. As the other details of the environment formed, Adam began to have a better grasp on, what was before him. While the lacklustre colours didn''t reveal anything too blatant, context helped him on. The trees formed seamlessly, the inner cylinder briefly shown before the details sprung out. It was like a wave, ending in the formation of low hanging branches, dull leaves, ready to fall out, and the small creaking, as the finalized trees settled in position. Adam thought it weird, that such a noise was made, but chalked it off, as an error in the starting process. From the liquid, serving as the base of the environment, smaller bushes sprung forth. They only just settled over the liquid, yet, Adam could see they reached far below the depts. From his singular perspective, the water looked too much deeper, than it originally looked to be, having a minimum of two whole meters. At this point, nearly everything had been fully created. But, there was still one thing lacking. Coming from above, the colours of the environment fell. They would ricochet off another part of the environment, before finally settling down on their respective places, seeping into the material, and giving it its designated colour scheme. With it all put together, Adam was finally able to conclude the type of environment, which they would be starting with. A swamp. While it was far, from the most unique places, that had been shown in these tests, it was definitely the farthest outplacement, of the first few environments. The trees were still standing there, so it had not abandoned the general aesthetic by too large an amount. Still, Adam was having trouble seeing any large kind of landmass. While groups of dirt and moss were floating around, he didn''t think any larger creatures capable of learning floating on such things. Actually, with the water seeming so deep, he was trying to figure out exactly, how the trees were surviving. The root systems must have been flooded with excess water, at this point. How were they getting oxygen? ''Please make a full, three sixty degree, turn, so it will be possible, to have a clearer picture of the environment.'', Adam requested of Troy. It was a surprise he had not done so, already. Troy usually did so, of his own volition, and likely curiosity as well, when the different environments were being loaded in. Then again, such behaviour was most prominent, further into the testing times, so he shouldn''t be too surprised by this stillness in normal movement. After Troy did as requested, with no complaints to note, Adam was able to have a broader idea of what was before him. This, unfortunately, did not equate to a better understanding of what was in front of them, though. With how the environment was currently set up, the forest life, and the bushes close to them, should have long since died out. Such large amounts of water should not be survivable, for any extended amount of time. With the average depth of the water, the trees should not even have been able to grow at all. If one, for the sake of an argument, forwent how fast these trees would certainly drown, they wouldn''t be able to mature either. The sun simply wouldn''t be able to reach them, in the depths. Even with multiple edits to the input gained through Troy''s eyes, seeing the bottom had been hard. Extremely hard. Adam was sure that Troy himself wouldn''t have been able to notice it, even if the task had been focused on. No, it had been through a large quantity of data, that he had been able to average out the water depth of the area, without the normally required vision. And, without this precious sunlight getting through to the bottom, aspiring trees would simply be unable to use their normal methods of energy processing, making them wither before ever having the chance to grow. Now that he had gotten a better look at the surroundings, Adam had noticed another small detail. The bushes. They weren''t truly connected to the ground. No, it seemed like they had been¡­ ripped off? Not with any sharp instrument, but with brute-forced. Broken branches were prevalent on these small things. These bushes would soon die. The water around them was simply delaying the inevitable. This told Adam one important thing. The current state of the environment was not what it usually was. While there might have been some level of water, the current amount was unnatural. Nothing would be able to live in it for long. Telling, the state of the bushes was. Broken by force, and forced to be on the surface of new water. It was obvious to see, what the cause of this ripping had been. For some reason, the water levels had grown exponentially. Calling it a doubling would be too kind. There were at least four times the amount of water, then what was usually here. It had torn up everything, that wasn''t quite literally anchored deep into the ground. This meant the trees were likely one of the few remaining survivors. And, they wouldn''t remain in such a position for much longer, if the current situation did not change drastically. But, then, what had caused it to change so much, in the first place? What created such excess of water, to suddenly appear? Chapter 60: Misadministration
Adam was at an impasse. He needed to figure out how this was caused. A brief look at the time taken showed that he had only done this particular test for just under two minutes. The animals had not shown themselves yet, so he couldn''t really spend much thought on them yet. And, not using the available time, to further his own knowledge and abilities would be a waste. Therefore, Adam had the perfect excuse, from diverting from the test''s original goal, if only for a minute or two. He was sure, Troy would understand, once the reasoning had been put out. However, before further outside analysis was done, Adam first wanted to create a hypothesis. This would allow him to gain a larger idea of what he was looking for. And, If that wasn''t possible to feasibly do, it would at least let him consult all prior known information, and let him draw figurative links between them. With no further preparation, Adam went straight into hypothesizing. First off, the cause most likely had a natural explanation to it. With their current altitude, Adam had been unable to see anything, which resembled being man-made. Wherever they were supposed to be located, it was not within the borders of civilisation. So, with the main cause delegated as a natural occurrence, Adam was able to further it even more down. Now, whatever had happened, it would not have happened before. Or, at the least, it hadn''t happened in the last few years. He wasn''t truly knowledgeable about the growth times of specific plants, but Adam had enough background information, to know, that the bushes didn''t grow to the current size, in but a few weeks. Or, a few months, for that matter. The largest, which had been observed, was even up to Troy''s abdomen if he had been standing next to it. Few things would be able to survive such quick growth, giving further into the idea of the occurrence being extremely rare, at the minimum. With that in mind, it was even more constricted, in what it could be, that had done this. When it came to natural disasters, which could cause such a result, there were many. Yet, not too many, which would fit the bill completely. Through pure glances, at the information retained of the various potential causes, Adam was able to quickly remove a large chunk of them. The reasons varied but were mostly due to the lack of obvious damage, which such disasters also caused when the culprit. Also, another large reason, for their immediate exclusion, was their lack of habitable conditions to manifest. A few notable mentions here would, for example, be the waterspout. Such a thing has been known to move larger amounts of water around, in a short period of time, causing massive fluctuations in-depth and while also enticing larger waves, which hit with the looked-for forces. With these mentioned details, it was a perfect contestant, in being the true culprit. But, alas did not fit, when Adam looked further into it. As the name ''waterspout'' would suggest, it was indirectly linked to water. Large amounts of water at that. While there was a moderate chance, with the current levels of liquid, of a smaller manifestation, it would have been impossible to move the needed amounts. This isn''t even taking into the fact, of the significantly reduced amount, at its disposal, before the disaster has occurred. Altogether, with these several contradictions, the idea of it being possible was scrapped quickly, and Adam had quickly moved onto the next possible candidate. The next possible candidate, in Adam''s long list of potentially viable disasters, had been the flash flood. It initially sounded great on paper. It, as its name clearly stated, was a flood of water appearing out of nowhere. The initial signs of it even beginning to occur could mostly only be detected a few hours, before the startup. Like before, though, the reasons for why it wouldn''t work began piling up. There were certain requirements for a flash flood of this level. One, which the environment would not be able to uphold. This went into the reasons on how flash floods were formed. Two types were the main instigators in the development of it. The breakage of older ice formations and natural debris, which are not able to hold up with the pressure put on them. The first, that being older ice formations were immediately ruled out. This was due to the average temperatures, which was prevalent in the area. As Adam had already categorized the area, like a swamp. This meant, that it would be designated with a general temperature of twenty-six degrees celsius. While it was possible to drop to near the zero degrees mark, during winter, most areas certainly did not fall so low. This environment, which they were in, certainly did not fall to such extremes. This made it nearly impossible, for any larger ice formations, capable of creating flash floods, to be produced naturally. And, the natural debris had the same improbability, albeit a different problem to constitute it. While the temperatures did not influence the formation of such obstructions, the degree of efficiency they would have was still on the extremely low side of the scales. For the natural debris to make any difference, it would have to be with the outcome of stopping regular, downward flows. This would constitute, that it had any downward flows to stop. Which it didn''t. The area around them was beside the flattest simulated locations Adam had ever seen. Any curvature, to be seen, was due to the trees growing up. The earth, and rock underneath, did not follow the same nature, being under the water instead. If they all could be buried underneath so easily, the chances of any greater hills being there were small. So, any semblance of flash-flood being the cause was scrapped. It just hadn''t been meant to be. Outright tornados had been looked at briefly as well. That one had not required too much thinking, to be discarded. Yes, it would have brought the necessary forces to move the water into the game. No, it wasn''t likely that such a thing had occurred. The forces, which could have lifted the water over to the current position, would have easily torn more damage throughout the environment. If it actually had been so, the trees would not have been within eyesight, likely floating along the surface instead of still standing firm. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. After having removed all these obvious misjudgements, Adam had thought himself closer to the answer, than ever before. Well, until he saw exactly, what he had left. At the top of his list of potential disasters were earthquakes. Adam couldn''t prove, that it wasn''t an earthquake. The signs of such things weren''t too obvious, with a better look at the ground, and the general area. Maybe, if the trees had been removed entirely, Adam would have had better chances of determining if earthquakes were as viable, as they were thought of. Alas, Troy did not have the ability to see through atoms, and he was unable to validate removing it from the candidate list. So, with no other option, he was forced to tear the whole list down. The logic did not agree with his opinions. And, in Adam''s own mind, he knew better, than the pre-known knowledge stated it as. Therefore, with no other consumable sources, Adam had to draw from knowledge from a unique type of source. A human type of source. ''Troy. I have a question. What reason could you think of, for the higher, water levels?'', Adam sent. "Shouldn''t you be doing your description work?" Troy asked right back, with a notable prevalence of irritation. "You know, like you promised to do, no less than three minutes ago?" Adam had known, such a reaction would come, and had therefore foreplanned his answer. ''Due to the lack of study able entities, I have not been able to further my progress in creating a description of this area. When these creatures appear, I will gladly cease my current activities, and refocus on the intended task.'', Adam sent. It was fully informational, with no obvious ways to misinterpret his words as arrogance. That problem had been removed, in the first rewrite. "Are you sure that you''re not actually just avoiding doing your literal job, in the hopes of having more time to study this environment?" Troy questioned. The suspicion, coming from him, was clear. And, this suspicion was reasonable. If Adam''s current focus had been on analysing the environment around them purely, his last message would have been identical. From his perspective, it provided the greatest chances of Troy letting the delays slide by. At least, when it was paired with the next message. ''Please point any of your fingers, at any animal, other than yourself. This will help me, in seeing your reasoning, for why my decision to maintain analysis, is hampering the efficiency of the test.'', Adam sent back. It was a little cutting, as in, acting like he had a moral and intellectual superiority in the conversation. Adam did not like using this technique. And, however derogatory his words may have been, he hadn''t been dishonest in his words. There weren''t any animals, or general creatures, for him to study. It was the main point, of the task, for him to do so, yet, there wasn''t anything to be seen. This did not stop Troy from twitchily looking around, quickly surveying for any signs of greater life forms. Like Adam had earlier predicted, the attempt failed. "... Fine. I see your point", Troy stated, after too long a time spent thinking. Adam knew he had been contemplating excuses, which would set him in the right. This was not due to any mind-reading, although he wished for such an ability. No, it was because of the face, which Troy usually had on, trying to make up more complex manners of lies. It should be pointed out to him soon if he would have any chance of lying to others effectively ever again. "What was your question again?" ''What reasons can you find for the current water-levels?'', Adam repeated. "What? I can''t say I see anything wrong with this", Troy stated, having an extra look around, mostly focused downwards, at the water surface. "It can''t be that deep." ''How would you describe the depth as approximately being?'', Adam asked, knowing exactly the type of answer, which he would be getting back. "Like¡­ a maximum of one and a half meters? Not everywhere, of course. Some places, close to the trees, for example, not even a meter," Troy answered. ''You are grossly underestimating the depth. On average, I have calculated it to be two meters deep. This takes into the consideration of the area close to the trees, which should not have been underwater, to begin with. If this current state environment was stable, most plant-life, incapable of simply floating in the water, would have died. I have tried to figure out the reasons for this extreme increase in water, but have yet to find any worthwhile causes. Thus, I hoped your addition would assist fully.'', Adam sent, with his complete analysis summed down to a few sentences. Troy would be likely to understand it all, but it should have given enough foreknowledge, for him to provide something worthwhile to the unstarted discussion. Troy made an encouraging nod in confirmation. His thoughts were likely focused on comprehending what had been told to him. At the least, his focused expression, paired with the ungazing eyes, hinted at such being the case. After simply standing still, for a few seconds, the movement once again began. Instead of making another survey of the area around, as Adam had guessed he would, Troy looked at the skies, dancing his eyes between the clouds hanging around. They were plentiful in number, giving him a lot of eye movement to complete. Why Troy was doing such a thing, Adam had not the faintest idea. Sure, it was something to do, with the question asked, but how it related, he wasn''t too sure. Did Troy think it was an airborne natural disaster, influencing the water flows, causing such increases in water levels here? It was plausible if the conditions were evaluated closely enough. A slight shake of the head was detected. Whatever thought, that Troy had had, was internally rejected. "I''m beginning to get a decent idea of the causes. Or, should I say, the cause," Troy stated, with no small amount of disheartenment. The true answer, which he had found, was not something, which Troy took lightly. "Do you just want my honest answer immediately, or do you want a little more time to think of reasons?" Seeing as Adam was already out of options when petitioning Troy''s help, putting any more work into his own did not seem like the most efficient option. ''Your immediate, full answer would be appreciated.'', Adam answered. From the small slouch, Troy made, after hearing his words, made Adam reconsider his choice. Something was stopping him from wanting to spread knowledge. Something he¡­ no, it could be called detested. It was milder than that. Troy just¡­. don''t like, what he was about to explain. "The most likely answer, as to how this flash flooding was created, is, to my best knowledge, a river diversion," Troy stated, with no hiding the bitterness of his words. The last two were nearly spat out. "This isn''t something, which has happened often here. I wouldn''t be surprised if it never has. The true malefactor, behind this, was not the one we call nature. That would have been too easy a thing. And, if it had happened naturally, the environment would have been ready for it. The area wouldn''t have become so¡­ ruined. Nature isn''t to blame. Humanity is. Some larger company most likely created the river diversion, with the intent of flooding this large area. Was that enough of an answer for you, Adam?" Not even close. Adam needed to know more. Originally he had ruled out people having a chance of being the culprits. Nothing looking close to human constructions had been observed for a couple of kilometres in radius. Removing humanity on these grounds had been asinine. If they were the cause, why would they keep buildings standing? The materials used would have been harvested before the area was made to be underwater. But, then, how had Troy ruled them as the true malefactor, as he called it? ''No. It was not. I need you to explain it in detail.'', Adam said. "I would have been more than happy to do so", Troy stated bitterly. "If, of course, those animals of yours hadn''t shown up." What? Oh. Troy was right. Floating along in the water, just under Troy''s feet, was a massive creature. Just what Adam had been looking for. Chapter 61: Conflagration
Adam wasn''t entirely sure what exactly he was looking at. Or, well what Troy was looking at. The creature had definite outlines of its scales, with bony plates being shown plenty times down the back. The colours on it were a mixture of grey and green, likely made so by the larger amounts of mud floating around in the water. The more notable part of the body would be the longer snout. Even from above it, Adam was able to see the long, set of teeth within it. The power such a creature could bite with must have been utterly massive. In the least, it was likely While he was about to go into another deep dive through his pre-known information, trying to categorize exactly what this creature was, Troy''s voice stopped him. Much to Adam''s displeasure, of course. "Now, that is something you don''t see every day", Troy muttered, most likely to himself. "Is that an alligator or a crocodile? I honestly don''t know the difference between those two." Even if the words weren''t directed at him, Adam was still easily able to hear them. While it was an arduous task, he wouldn''t have minded researching creatures, based on the few physical features he could see. It allowed him to further optimize his search functions, while also having an excuse, for looking through the pre-known knowledge. With Troy having already stated, what the creature most likely was, Adam had no such excuse, to lengthen the time taken. He still had a promise to keep, about taking as little time as possible. At the very least, though, it had not been explicitly stated, which of the two possible creatures it was. With Troy''s specific wording, one could even call it¡­ a hard task to distinguish. Adam was on it, at the same moment. As fast as he reasonably could, he pulled the descriptions for each creature out. The results were not well-liked. Alligator: Larger, water-based animal. Has the appearance resembling a Crocodile. Crocodile: Larger, water-based animal. Has the appearance resembling an Alligator. The information gained was not as helpful, as Adam had wanted it to be. Yet, anticipating anything other than it being lacklustre was foolish. From the many pulls of descriptions, many had had fewer words, than these had. It had been a statistical miracle, that Adam had been able to scrap enough descriptions about birds together, to predict the corvids, in the last chapter. With this, he did not seem to have the same degree of luck. There weren''t even any sub-categories to work with. No descriptions about specific species. Instead, there was only a general one, likely designed to describe them all. With the number of details written, Adam thought it did not get anything wrong, in the least. Altogether, his chances of getting in-depth about these creatures, before the second species appeared. ¡­ No. Adam wasn''t giving up just yet. He still had one opening. ''Troy. I have another question.'', Adam sent. He knew that he had been using Troy too much, these last few tests. Yet, it had nearly always brought some form of result, no matter how bland. "Is it about the water levels again?" Troy asked, not sounding too trusting. Which was fair, of course. "Because, if it''s about that, I''m not answering with anything worthwhile." It seemed that he was still of the mindset, that Adam was lengthening the time at each environment. A hypocritical way of thinking. He had already proven his lack of doing so, only a minute or two ago. ''No. It is about the creature right under you.'', Adam clarified, while also feeling like he shouldn''t have needed to do so. "Ah, right, of course. How silly of me," Troy said, not sounding much like his usual self. His tone was¡­ deprecating? Yet, it wasn''t directed towards Adam. "What''s your question?" Troy was definitely acting, as he usually did. His body movement was stiffer, his shoulders slightly up, instead of slouched, and his arms were behind his back, seemingly in a relaxed position. Something was wrong. Or, right, if one wanted to look like such. At least, his posture had become better. Anyway. Back to the conversation. Adam needed to focus. ''From your earlier words, I presume that you are unable to distinguish between the two species. With this, it would also be safe to presume that they are alike in physical appearance. Altogether, with the earlier knowledge, I would like for you to talk a little about the two species.'', Adam sent. It wasn''t too hard a question. Troy was able to pick them out, so he must have a general understanding of their general features and functions. "Honestly, I don''t know what to tell you", Troy answered, not having anything further to state. With the comment, both shoulders went up, to further symbolise his lack of information about the subject. ''I would prefer information about the creature before you, as stated earlier.`, Adam sent in response to Troy''s unpredicted answer. He hoped it was due to a misunderstanding in the question asked, and not the actual subject. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "And, I don''t have that information, Adam", Troy said, now slightly agitated, from the tone of his voice. "We don''t learn about such things anymore, you have to understand. The only reason that I can even recognize them is due to the picture of them, which I have seen online. Only pictures. No fact bars, detailing their entire organ distribution, with proportional models, added." Adam hereby likes the slightly annoyed version of Troy more. Instead of answering concretely, he now took the time to intricately detail, why he answered in such a way, while also bringing a hypothetical scenario up, to illustrate the point he was trying to make. It made it all so much easier to understand. Nevertheless, it was not the answer, which he had been hoping for. While it did highlight the needed information in the outside world and inside here too, it did not assist the current problem. It looked like Adam would be forced to stipulate information through continual observation instead. It wasn''t ideal. It would take time. And, Troy wouldn''t like it But, Adam needed to do it, if he wanted anything better than a sup-bar description. The waiting game was on. He hoped it wouldn''t be too long.
Troy was wondering if he should say anything, staring forth like he was as a cow looks at an oncoming train. Adam had been quiet for a long while, now. No questions had been asked. No ordering around either. The last one was the most unusual to be silent. Usually, there would be small requests for turning the head in a different direction or something matching in energy requirements. With the count, they should have been nearing six full minutes being used up. Four to go, before it went above the last tests average. Adam had promised it wouldn''t, but Troy was having a harder and harder time believing it. Really. By now, they should have started writing down his description of the place. With their current pace, it would at least take them¡­ twelve minutes? Maybe. Troy wasn''t too sure on, how long he was planning for the description to be. If the earlier tests had anything to say, the first few environments had the shortest descriptions. Personally, he thought it was due to the less than original places they were shown. Sure, they were different. Troy hadn''t seen any direct copy of previous environments yet. But, just because they were identical, it didn''t mean that they were alike. The general theme was the same, with it being simulated to be just above the equator. Never to hot looking, yet also not cold. The trees were a special stable as well. There were always some of them hanging around. Was that why Adam isn''t saying a long description, in the first few tests? They simply weren''t unique enough, for him to say anything? Sounded a little arrogant, but that might just have been his interpretation speaking for the wrong side. Right now, Troy may have been a little annoyed with Adam. It was for a variety of reasons. Only some were Adam''s faults. He didn''t want to think about that, for too long, lest Troy would focus on it. The lack of sleep may have been the main reason for his higher levels of irritation. Not the catalyst, of course. It could be more accurately described as being the focused multiplier. It made everything negative he felt worse, yet the good stuff remained in its usual position. When Adam asked, for the third time in a single minute, about the same thing, Troy had been more than a little irritated. If he had been of well-rested mind, he might have just put it off. But, oh no, he didn''t do that, of course. Such a thing would have been too mature of him. Instead, he decided to withhold information from him. Information, which could have helped Adam, in finishing this segment quicker. If Troy was good enough of a person, he would have notified him of this mistake and helped him gain a better understanding of the alligator. Crocodile. Whatever it was supposed to be. Speaking of the massive reptile. Troy was not entirely sure what exactly the animal was trying to gain from its current actions. If the barriers around him weren''t in place, he would have been soaked in swamp water by now. The massive animal was spinning rapidly, spraying the muddy water in all directions. From what little knowledge, which was preserved in Troy''s feeble brain, this performance was limited to subduing prey. It was supposed to confuse them into drowning themselves, or some other utter nonsense like that. The problem with that was, though, that Troy was not able to see anything, which resembled another creature in the water. Briefly, before realising this, he had been extraordinarily happy. It would have meant, that the second creature would have appeared. And, that the interaction had happened, giving Adam no further reason to delay the description. Yet, alas, it was not meant to be. The spinning only succeeded in giving the reptile a thorough soak. In the process, it had even gotten itself a larger amount of grass plastered on itself. The most surprising thing about that was the continued living off the grass. From, what Adam had said, such small plants should have been dead by now. Maybe, he was not always to be trusted, in his observations. He made his logic be seen, yet it was never criticized. Troy needed to do things like that more often. His inner thoughts were halted, as the focus came back on the large reptile. It had begun moving yet again. Instead of spinning, it had instead opened its mouth right open. The inside was right down disgusting. What should have been a cleaner mouth, full of a horrifying amount of teeth, was instead filled with¡­ leeches. Or something like. At the long gums, just under where the teeth resided, it was absolutely filled with these small creatures. It must have been painful, Troy had thought to himself. Even from a distance, he could see more leeches getting into position, nearly fighting over the open space. Troy strongly shuddered in disgust. Why had anyone thought of this as a good idea? It looked terrible. It sounded terrible. And, if he had been able to smell it, Troy was sure it would have smelled terrible as well. Having to look away, from the more than disturbing sight in front of him, though, was the least of his problems. ''Please continue looking at its mouth. I need more details.'', Adam ordered. Did he not realise how cruel such a thing was? If Troy puked, he was not blaming himself. That was for sure. "Are you sure, that you need another look?" Troy desperately asked, while trying to hold his meals in the same place. "With that perfect memory of yours, I am sure, that you don''t need longer observation times on anything... Right?" The last part may have come out of his mouth, as slightly desperate. It could have been told in worse ways, really. At least, Troy didn''t puke. So many meals would have been wasted. ''While your thoughts about my memory are delightful to hear, I fear they may have initially started as a misconception about my abilities. While I have a near-perfect memory, I cannot extrapolate more information from them than I already have. The earlier does give me worthwhile knowledge, yet it still is not enough to confirm any earlier suspicions. And, most of my thinking has been on the larger reptile before you. The leeches are a new addition, which will require more, independent analysis time, to get a broader understanding. I have not put the time to do this, in the few seconds, where you observed its open mouth. So, I''ll need you to complete your earlier action, if you want this to end as quickly as possible. Otherwise, I''ll have to make do with your unconscious glances at it, and that will take quite a long time, then if you simply cooperated.`, Adam sent, going directly into detail on, why Troy should do as ordered. He could understand all the reasoning, even. Troy definitely did try to find fault in his logic, yet could perceive anything worthwhile to bring up. At least, not anything, which would clear him of his dawning obligations. Could it really be so hard to stare at it, for half a minute or two? Taking a quick glance at it, Troy definitely amounted it with that. His stomach was not playing games. It had already done its warning shots, which Troy narrowly escaped, by not letting it escape. Yet, this segment taking more time would only lengthen his suffering. If this was the standard, with all the next environments, Troy needed to be ready for it. He needed to desensitize himself. This meant¡­ he had to look. The leeches were the other creature, or creatures if one wanted to call it that, and they needed equal study. With that mental hype-up of his, Troy moved his head with purpose. The moment the sight came into his peripheral, he desperately wanted to look away, his body just as disturbed by it, as his mind was. His stomach was prepping up its next shots, and Troy was beginning to be unsure of its survivability. It was going the nuclear way, and he knew the target was himself. Still. He held on, for the sake of it soon being done. As he thought that specific thought, he heard a chirp from the nearest tree. A few realisations came with it. Troy had forced himself to look at something disgusting, for a reason, which was now invalidated. The leeches were there, not as a creature themselves, but as a reason for mutualism. "Oh, for fu-" Chapter 62: Deglamorization
The sounds of an already-recognized species was a surprise, to be sure, but not entirely expected. Birds had been used, in the last test''s first environment, so it wasn''t too far out, for them to be used yet again. Troy did not seem to like this new development, though. Adam was sure about this, due to the usages of the new word, which he was rapidly portraying. A few gestures had also been used, with avid portrayal of the various activities. He was intrigued, the muscle memory to do such things must have to be a long and arduous task to learn. Adam had not even known Troy''s fingers had been able to bend such directions. The flexibility of his digits was not the most important matter at hand, currently, though. For the first time, in the last few minutes, the potential for progress had come forth. It had all started off with, the larger reptile moving. Initially, Adam had only perceived it, as a possibility to get more information about it. With the lacking details, inside his current information, he was forced to only use, what he had gotten in this encounter. Which wasn''t much, or even close to enough. That did not mean the information was lacking in quality, of course. In fact, what it all lacked in quantity, it readily stood up for in quality. Adam would have truly never guessed, the true fact about, what resided in the jaws of the reptile. According to Troy''s unconscious muttering, likely created by being deeply scarred mentally. These black, writhing creatures were called leeches. According to his pre-known information, these creatures were known for their draining abilities, and the painful sensation, which they could cause. In the first few seconds of knowing these creatures'' existence, Adam had become sure in mind that these creatures were the other species, while would be shown in this environment. They fit the criteria so nicely. Which, to be fair, was not too hard to fill. Yet, the fact of this event having been put into the environment, meaning that it had been added with a singular purpose. According to Adam''s own assumptions, their purpose had been to show off the reality of life. Everything leeched of everyone if given the chance. Adam had later realized the pun. Could these creatures be blamed, for the things they had done? Were they evil, by sticking themselves to another creature, slowly killing by consumption? It could be strongly debated. It wasn''t the fault of the leeches, that they were created such away. They didn''t decide how they were going to be born. Their entire survival method is to prey on others. Without doing so, they would starve to death, their frail body becoming food of another animal in due time. Did the act of surviving, their hectic spurrings, warrant them to be categorized as evil creates? No. It was the environment, which had forced them to be such a way. At first, there was a good chance, that these creatures had preyed on plant life, or something akin to it. When the area changed, though, these leeches had to change with it. Doing the same thing as before is paramount only if one wants to be eradicated from the living. One''s body needs to be optimized if they want to survive the battle of simply surviving. If the creature isn''t perfect, for its environment, chances are, that it will fail to multiply itself enough times. Their numbers need to grow, or they will be forgotten by time. These creatures were not evil. They adapted to what the environment was. A spot on the prey list was open, and these things took it. One can''t be blamed, for the actions of one''s forefathers. This rule includes the leeches, which survived through the mutation period, surpassing all the others. All of this was supposed to be the start of Adam''s description of the environment. He had just begun writing it all, after convincing Troy to look back at the mouth, when the bird''s calls were first heard. With this, it quickly became obvious that he may have had a misconception on what the focus would be. Troy had had the same misunderstanding as Adam, though, so it wasn''t the worst. Now, he would have better reasoning, for taking such a long time, in completing the first of many environments. As stated before, from the trees, the birds called. There weren''t many. From the sounds of their screeches, Adam predicted around three to four in total. "The ugly guy is moving", Troy noted. While Adam had noticed it himself, being warned about it was still great. At the very least, it led him to know, that Troy wanted to be more active in the tasks. Maybe he should ask more of him, to make him feel more included in it. "Not too much faster than before, but it''s in a different direction, so it should count." ''Indeed it does. Please keep your eyes on it.'', Adam requested of him. Troy was already doing so, without being asked, but it did facilitate the need for it. To further explain the reptile''s new behaviour, it was moving in the direction of the bird songs. There could have been several reasons for this behaviour. With the current information gap, though, Adam wasn''t too sure, which it was. The larger creature wasn''t being quiet in its approach. While the volume wasn''t on the levels of the earlier spinning, the lighter, small splashes of water, which it''s tail made, was still noticeable. Even more notable, though, was the lack of wings flapping around. If earlier bird behavioural information was taken into account, this sound should have already started a coordinated retreat. Instead, it seemingly intensified the calls. Adam was even able to hear small scuttles, as the birds adjusted their positions, in the tree they had chosen to reside in. If his analysis, of what he was hearing, wasn''t too far off, they were trying to get¡­ closer, as well. Why they hadn''t flown yet, was something he wondered about. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. No further full-body was made by the reptile. Troy had even honed in on its legs, which could be seen through the water. They were moving rapidly, seeming to be attempting to halt any further movement. It wasn''t an immediate success, by any stretch, but steady progress was occurring. In just ten seconds, the reptile sat still in the water. It was worth mentioning, that its mouth had not closed in any capacity. Adam was beginning to wonder. Was the reptile¡­ showing off? This wasn''t meant in the way, of showing off to other creatures, of the same species. No. It was more focused on simply showing off, the inside of its mouth. The mouth, which was strongly inhibited by a massive amount of worm-like creatures. The goal for its behaviour had been figured out. It was using its unfortunate situation to its own advantage. Even further, the mouth stretched upwards. A small click was heard, just before it finally halted. It was near-shocking, with the sheer degrees the jaws had been set apart. If Troy had attempted to copy such a feat, it would have been categorized as dislocated in a very short amount of time. With the click being sounded, the small flock of birds took it as the last push, to go inside the jaw trap. Immediately, at the moment they landed, the leeches were being devoured. It was only a matter of time before those jaws would close. Adam was sure of it. While the leeches may have developed to stick themselves to their prey, natural protection had not been on the same list. This was not the first encounter, that these birds had had with such functional copies of parasites. Dutifully, they ripped the leech off the large reptile, their beaks crushing trough the meat, just before the mouth. What was left, was but a small splatter, which feels off after a few seconds, no longer having the will to hang on. The rest of the body was swallowed whole. The size of the birds allowed to do such a thing. It was not alike for these flying animals to chew their food either. Such consumption methods were not within their repertoire. Instead, they used a stomach like an organ, which was called the ''gizzard'' by humans, to aid them in their digestion. This extra feature allowed them to consume larger amounts of feed, in a limited amount of time. Granted, though, this wasn''t the most effective digestion process, in the long term. Chewing may take a longer time, but it was easier to halt when problems occurred. When the birds had any problems, they would be forced to eat smaller stones and grit, when aid to digest was desperately needed. Humans, on the other side, had the privilege of simply spitting anything unsplittable out of their system. Speaking of systems. By now, Adam had predicted for the reptile to strike. The birds were definitely in position. Altogether, they had travelled further from the entrance, having no chance to fly out in a second. If the reptile closed its mouth, it would not go hungry for a long time. Yet, no such thing occurred. The upper jaw was still as high up, never faltering in its position. Much like the rest of its body, actually, when Adam had another look at it. Nothing moved. Nothing indicated any sign of aggression. From his uneducated perspective, the reptile even seemed to be¡­ enjoying it? He didn''t understand. "How disgusting those black things are", Troy noted, his nose wrinkling in the process. Which was weird, seeing as there was nothing in here to smell, other than himself. "Good thing those flying howlers are getting rid of them." A chance of inquiry. It would even aid Adam''s plans in including a certain somebody more in the tasks. ''Troy. I have created a misunderstanding for myself, which I believe you might be able to solve for me.'', Adam sent to him. It sounded like, he was making himself dependent on Troy''s input. He really wasn''t. But, according to his personal studies, such a thing was a point of pride, for some. Adam had figured Troy to be a figure perfectly fitting the general description classified in the text. "Shoot", Troy answered. Adam hoped he meant that he should ask the question. Shooting any projectile, inside a room like this, could not be productive or safe for anybody. "Ask what you like. As long as its about the task, of course. But, you already know that I''m guessing." He followed it up, with a more detailed description of his answer, in order to stop any developing misconceptions. How nice of him! It would be than improper if Adam didn''t retaliate with a just as defined question. To his own standards, relative to Troy''s, of course. ''Currently, the larger, unspecified reptile has, within its literal jaws, enough calories to last it the next twenty-four hours, in the least. I initially believed that it had been using its leech problem to bait birds into quite literally entering its mouth. This theory of mine was further proved, with how still the reptile was. I believe this was a sign, of it trying to inconspicuous about being a danger to the birds. When they were farther into the mouth, grabbing the older leeches, I was sure, that the reptile would finally strike, and gets its feed. Yet, no such thing has occurred. No hostile intent can be distinguished. If anything, from the unhardened eyes, I would say it was current enjoying itself. With the inaction, this is not due to its food supply being topped up. I was then hoping, that you might be able to clarify, where my thought process went wrong, and what it should have actually turned out to be formed like.'', Adam sent. It wasn''t the longest explanation, but he felt it held up against Troy''s own. Taking his body language into question as well, Adam was able to see something, which he hadn''t observed in a long time. The stance, the head nodding, and the hand scratching the back of his head. Troy was actively thinking about his answer, before uttering a single word. He was actively debating, with himself, how to best describe, what he thought was an optimal answer. If Troy came up in the next debriefing, Adam was going to give him the commendations he deserved. While his recent behaviour, inside and out the testing-area, had not been on par with expectation, this showed, why he was really hired. The dedication, when he tried. "If I had to surmise your failures, it would be your interpretation, of the data before you", Troy began explaining, more serious than he had been in the last few conversations. Less irritated too, but that had disappeared a minute ago. "Now, this might seem obvious, but your outlook might be giving you a slight case of tunnel vision. You assume, that the goal of the reptile is simply to eat its next meal. Every action, every thought, is dedicated to finding the next worthwhile bite. In reality, it isn''t anything like that. Sure, having a full stomach is important, but not as important as it would be for, say, me, as an example. I need to eat every day, lest I go extremely hungry, with it hampering my actions with every step. When it comes to reptile, like the one before it, it is so much different. From what I can remember, they could go months, or even years, without a single bite. Their body is designed to not take energy for granted. Every single calorie is saved, for when it is needed. Right now, this creature isn''t thinking about eating. It''s thinking about getting those leeches off its mouth. They are painful, irritating, and likely hampers its ability to feel comfortable. Nothing, which is healthy to keep up for long. Now, it isn''t deadly, of course. It could simply live on, not sparing any thought to these leeches, and the reptile would be in a fully fine condition, with no larger, physical health effects. But, with these birds, it can all be changed. While it is only a temporary measure, the birds can remove them, freeing the reptile of its irritation. This requires something, which is hard to get. I think I''ll leave it there, or Dr Fidelis will be angry at me, for making the description for you. Do make sure, to twist my words, when you make it, please.'' Troy ended it rather abruptly. That was fine to Adam, though. Already, he had begun cooking it up. With nine minutes being reached, it was time to write the description down, through Troy. Adam only hoped, that he was fast in typing it down , or they wouldn''t be on schedule. Chapter 63: Conventionalization
''Are you ready for the description?'', Adam sent to Troy. "I''m as ready, as can be", Troy immediately answered, his fingers tensing to fly across the screen. "Just speed through it, and I''ll try to keep up. Speed up? That didn''t sound like too bad of an idea. Troy was most likely only going to be able to write down, half before not being able to remember it accurately. If Adam sped up his talking speed with twenty per cent, they would be able to finish in about ninety per cent of the regular time. If, of course, Troy was keeping up his current activity levels. With nothing more to add, Adam shot the description out. ''At first, one might be confused about the sight. A flock of birds jovially eating in the grasp of a larger reptile. Or, the jaw, to be more accurate. The amount of trust, that the reptile won''t close its jaws, killing the birds in the process, is something unusual in nature. Yet, it is not completely unheard of. Another name for this rare phenomena can be described as a mutually beneficial relationship. And, there is good reason, for this rarity. In human society, mutually beneficial relationships are all around. They are in plenty of numbers, used in nearly all aspects of society. The reason for this, is, as the name implies, due to how beneficial such a thing is. Yet, if it is so beneficial, why is it only prominent in such small numbers of species? And, even further, why is it most common in the same species. This brings the issue of it all over to communication problems. I can not personally figure out a way for the reptile to have communicated its leech infestation to the birds. Most likely, their relationship is likely the product of pure chance, something surviving in their DNA for no other reason, then pure probability. But, now, it is used as a part of both creatures lives, benefiting them in great ways. First, the bird gets its daily fill, leaving it without the need to scavenge for food in an otherwise barren environment. With the current state of the area, this relationship between the two species might be even more important, for their continued survival. While the benefits, which the reptile gets, is not as large, like the birds, it is still nothing to scoff at. The pain felt is relieved, letting it finally relax, without the constant mouthful of distractions. Such a thing is something to look up at. It proves something about nature. Humans haven''t walked a new path when they all began to cooperate. They were simply following in the footsteps of the ancients before them.`, Adam sent. He would have preferred it to be longer, with more mentions of the environment. Yet, it was designated as unimportant, and making it more concrete in format was divided to be more vital, to get a better grade. Troy had been doing his best to keep up, writing with a frenzy matching Dr Fidelis'' writing speed. His fingers flew across the screen, with the buttons pressed for but a moment before the next would follow. Several grammatical errors were made in this process, but Adam felt up to the task of correcting them. That is if Troy asked for his assistance. Offering it as a standard, would not be helping him further his own goals of making each gear as independent as possible, while still having interaction. Contrary to Adam''s own expectations, Troy wrote out more than half of the description. At least, it was closer to fifty per cent written than sixty per cent. And, there were more than a few more errors, in the words, than what he would let slide by. If there wasn''t a direct inquiry about proof-reading, Adam would make him ask for it. Such mistakes could not be accepted. "Mind repeating yourself?" Troy asked, cracking his knuckles. Did he see this as an extraneous exercise? "Because, I don''t think I should be trusted, with this more than satisfactory memory of mine." While his memory had its fate sealed, his self-awareness was more than average. Adam was even a little proud of his focus on self-improvement. Or, the continuous exercise of writing down his descriptions, had forced his brain to adapt to the more focused needs of his short-term memory. ¡­ Adam helped himself, by thinking it was Troy''s personal decision. The description was finished, in being written down, not much long after. There was luckily a request for correcting the numerous mistakes in it, before it was sent away. After having sent forth the longer text, it was time for the changes in the environment, where the whole process would begin anew. Adam hoped for something more original.
The two of them had been through seven environments, with the first hour of testing has passed with it. Being quicker, in writing descriptions had been a small success, for now. The time taken was shorter than the total average, but not by much. Troy was seemingly satisfied with it, after being told the statistics. Something about holding promises had been uttered. Adam''s wishes, for the area to vary more in aesthetics had been answered. The most unique had been on the bottom of the ocean, where only the creatures emitted any form of light, in the air, where fierce battles of dominance were had over scavenged food, on the desert ground, where the only thing holding one back form dehydration is the scarce shadows, and, as common as it sounded, the earthly areas, where life was plenty, but the fight for survival was just as fierce. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. It was great, to have such a varied perspective. Yet, there was always more to be had. Always more to be seen. Whoever controlled which environments to be shown, just had to decide on the right options. Which, of course, meant, whatever Adam wanted to see in that particular moment. His particular wishes had varied strongly, throughout the testing. Nearly all the areas left questions unanswered. Why things were the way they were, why the animals didn''t choose the easier, more productive, evolutionary traits, and, for the love of all that is logical, why were some creatures restricted in, where they were located? Many things, which Adam saw in the different environments, simply didn''t make sense to him. If put in another environment, some species could absolutely dominate the local wildlife. They were either large enough or simply smart enough, to not be threatened by any but their own species. Yet, they were themselves present, in an area, where all their capabilities only just allowed them to survive. It was brutal, seeing such creatures not live up to their full potential. Adam was certainly frustrated, by their restricted positions. If they were moved to, where they belonged, they could be so much more. They could grow as creatures so much more. With time, the only real enemy would be their own species, challenging them to evolve to take on their own. It would be an arms race. Only the strongest, the smartest, and the quickest could survive. Perfection would be strived for. Success was not certain, but they could become better, than what they were currently, and that was what mattered. Even if it took millions upon millions of years, these animals could grow to challenge the capabilities of humans. With Adam''s understanding of humanity, though, such a thing would be impossible. Not due to the restrictions of the environment, but of the other creatures living in it. From the few mentions of history, which were showcased in his pre-known information, humans did not like competition. Greater wars had been started, with the fall of one figure. At that point, it is not about the figure, but the one''s which could follow. It is within human nature to be paranoid about threats. Dealing with such threats, before they deal with you, is perfectly natural. Thinking like that does not scale well, when people, with the capabilities of world destruction on a moment''s notice, share them. The stakes are not even. One small push could eradicate the entire population. And, humanity had done a similar thing, with another species before, in the past few centuries. The Emu War, it had been called. The only reason, for the war''s startup, had been due to the larger numbers of emus. Humans saw them as a threat to their lives. The emu''s however seemed to have no intention to attack first, instead of having a disposition to¡­ play with them. The emu''s had the means to kill, yet they did not do so. Their actions did not matter, to humans. It was the possibility of it. Now, Adam found no mentions of the outcome, of this war. From natural deductions, though, he presumed near-total eradication. The description of Emu''s did not mention them as extinct, leading to the possibility of them still existing in controlled environments. It was not a perfect way to live, sure, but their historical value needed to be preserved in some form, other than simple data. "This better not be another desert", Troy said, as their latest environment began floating away. It had been a foggy, rock-area, which, to Adam''s mostly-reliable sources, was at a higher altitude. In that environment, the goal had been to study the movements of goats, and how the different hybrids would fight, using the possibility of falling to their advantage. It had been intriguing to look at, mostly since these creatures were wholely incompetent in this battle. Their hit per cent had been under five per cent, which, with the distance between the two combatants, was a statistical miracle. Troy, however, notified Adam, that this was common. He had it hard in believing it to be so, but he had been completely wrong before. ''No grains of sand has been produced, so you might not be in the wrong.'', Adam notified Troy. Before the desert had been created, the notable creation process had been for sand to fall like rain-water. Why this was so, he wasn''t too sure. The pure processing power, to calculate the trajectory of each, individual grain of sand would be massive. He was still of the mindset, that blinking the earlier environment out of existence, and then immediately replacing it with the new one, without any fancy transition, was better, and let the test move on quicker. Dr Fidelis was not of the same mind, apparently. Shifting over to the new area was just as long and arduous as actually doing the task. It was not hard to process, of course. It was just¡­ Adam wasn''t too sure, that the information gained would be of any use in the future. The transitions were just¡­ to unrealistic. As a great example, currently, all the fog around the was being sucked into small spheres, vainly appearing to be translucent balloons. They floated up into the sky, the other materials of the environment joining them in their own, little balloons. It did not matter the amount of material. The size of the spheres remained constant, floating upwards, no matter how little they should. With little time, all that was left were these little spheres, all else being pure, white space. As the last ballon hit the invisible ceiling, though, they began conglomerating, quickly turning into an amalgamation of colours. The insides of the now-massive balloon-shaped sphere began spinning, picking up speed. Slowly, the nuances of material inside began mixing together, turning into one, distinct colour. A lighter green, to be exact. "Oh, do not even dare think about it", Troy shouted at the large sphere, as if his opinion would make any difference. Nevertheless, Adam was of the same mindset. That particular genre of environment had been getting stale, now. As if it was pricked with a needle at the bottom, the now green contents of the massive sphere, sprung out, falling down onto the ground. It at a single point, creating a colossal wave around it. It would have coated Troy circle in colour, if not for it simply phasing trough. Still too unrealistic, making no sense. Yet, it was probably for the best, that they weren''t inhibited in sightly abilities, simply due to unforeseen coating. In the area, where the tall wave of colour had passed, not all fell to the floor harmlessly. Some stood still, being in very familiar patterns. At the top, the still-standing cylinders of the green split, with a good half going to all sides, and forming recognizable branches. As its form settled, the material hardened, changing texture and colour, where it was needed. It was official. In the next debriefing, Adam needed to have a serious discussion with Dr Fidelis on, where familiarity isn''t an excuse for unoriginality. While there weren''t too many trees here, they were still in larger numbers, than what there should have been. "Can we just not get this again?" Troy outright asked, to no one in particular. At least, Adam hoped he would ask anyone in particular because it wasn''t directed at him. And, if he had been able to hide a secondary communication device from him, it would be a clear inconsistency. ''Let''s just get through it. With how much we''ve seen of this type of environment, we should be through this one quicker than the others.'', Adam sent, noticing the irritation crawling forth from Troy once again. While it did give Troy clear goals in conversations, he wasn''t too sure that it gave the best kind of boost in work productivity. As the rest of the area formed, it became even more clear, how not-at-all unique this environment was. Bushes and small bundles of grass were prevalent, across an otherwise barren ground. Enough cover to hide smaller animals, but nothing larger than one and a half meters could be hiding here. Which meant that, for this area, they would be most likely overlooking smaller animals. If they were lucky, it would be the size of a rabbit, and nothing small. Adam personally hoped it was a rabbit. He hadn''t seen one before, and it would help in solving a few conundrums of his. From Troy''s left, the rustling of grass was heard. At least, this one started quickly. Chapter 64: Rejection
Contrary to Adam''s expectations, the animal was larger than what a rabbit was supposed to be. The creature stood approximately sixty to seventy centimetres tall. It was hard to say, with the unseen before body type. It stood on four, longer legs, the musculature in them indicating a sprinting trait. Whatever this animal was designed for, it definitely wasn''t endurance. It was constantly twitchy, ready to run on a moment''s notice. Its fur was slightly dark. It was nearing a darker brown but set just in between. With this colouring scheme, the animal blended into the surrounding woodland area nicely. Adam could clearly see that this was an incomplete trait. While it did have the same general colour as the surroundings, it was still a few nuances off. If his understanding of Darwin''s theories were correct, by the next millennia, the colourings of this creature would be even more honed in, on looking like the leaves. Or, was he thinking about it in the wrong way? Was looking like a specific part of the environment the absolute factor, when it came to the specific animals'' continued survival? And, this colouring did shift, across the body of the creature. On the lower side, the type of colour had changed entirely, being closer to white than anything resembling light brown. Even further, the true brown was only located on the back, the legs, and the neck. On the sides of the body, there was a thinner, black streak. What exactly, made this pattern more viable to survive, than a simple camouflage? Looking into it further, this was apparently a trait used by many creatures. A near-uniform colouration pattern, not inherited, but independently developed over time. Countershading, it was called. It followed the basics of light being impeded, by hitting an object. This could best be illustrated, by presenting a model of a sphere. Take the light source directly above the sphere. What is the colour at the top of it? If one has the capability to process three-dimensional environments, in their minds, it should be obvious, that the topmost of the sphere is hereby the lightest part of the surface, in colouring, at least. With that thought of, the longer down the surface one goes, the darker the surface will be. When the bottom is reached, it will be completely black, if the reflection of light, is taken out of the equation. Countershading applied this to the body, by pretty much inverting the spectrum. At the top of the gazelle, it would be dark, instead of light. And, at the bottom, it would be light, instead of dark. In theory, this would help make the body more indistinguishable from the surroundings. Personally, Adam couldn''t really see it. The animal, swiftly chewing down the leaves beside it, wasn''t too hard to point out. The colours were doing a better job, than the lighting conditions. But, then again, that might just be due to the way, that the human eyes worked. The natural predators likely didn''t have their irises built in the same fashion. Going back to the current actions of the creature before him. It had moved from its current bush, with most larger leaves being consumed, and going over to the nearest other. With the current showcasing of its diet, did this mean that the animal was a herbivore? Or, was it an omnivore? For the sake of creating a quality description, Adam let this question parade through his thoughts. There were several arguments on both sides. Technically, there three in total, but he had it on good grounds, that this creature was not a carnivore. While some creatures consumed indigestible materials, to aid in their actual digestion, plants were not on the list of helpful things. In fact, they were more likely to cause more damage. So, starting with the grounds, for this being an omnivore, the first siding with this option, was the addition to the creature''s bone structure. More specifically, the bone structure on its head. Attached to the creature''s skull were obvious protrusions. These were regularly categorized as being horns. Now, there were a variety of reasons and uses for this addition to the genes. The most obvious use of these horns is to assist in attacking other entities. With the size of these horns, they might not be able to be used as a consistent method of attack. This laid them in the category of being used in defence only. While there were also other uses for these horns, stripping bark from trees or in animal courtship, for example, they would not give a large indication to its dietary preferences and were therefore put out of the discussion. The horns only being used in defence did not discredit the creature as a herbivore, though. There were still several methods, which the animal could use to gain substance, through other methods than wild plant life. With its smaller size, it was entirely within possibility that it substituted the lower calories of purely eating plants, with the higher calorie count of rodents and otherwise smaller animals. The legs had already been categorized, as being that of sprinters. These could be used in shorter chases. Adam was sure that these would allow it to outrun most other creatures, if only for a short time. With shorter distances, though, it did not matter. The speed could easily let it catch fleeing prey. And, the ears were finely tuned, to hear the slightest of movements. This could be seen from their shape, and how they constantly oriented themselves. If a rodent so much as took a single step, this creature could be on it in a moment. While hunting anything more than half its size would likely fail, this animal would have success in anything below. This didn''t mean that the creature had ever attempted to do such a thing, of course. Moving away from the evidence, that it was an omnivore, it was time to overlook the signs of it being a herbivore purely. Seeing as there had been such a focus on the animal''s head, Adam felt no reason to stop this eccentricity. Now, the first proof of its purely herbivore focused nature was the eye-placement it had. Animals which had eyes placed on the sides of their heads were typically created evolved to be herbivores, preyed on by carnivores. With the constant chances of being a target, the herbivores were forced to adapt to such an existence. Instead of looking around constant, with their entire head, their eyes evolved to simply that job. With places on the sides, the degree of vision is increased to a near three hundred and sixty-degree vision. Not completely, of course. Such a thing would be unrealistic. This placement was a clear contradiction, to what carnivores themselves had developed. They had their eyes on the front, instead of the front. This clearly showed the distinction between the two. While herbivores had the best chance of survival, if they could survey a larger area constantly, the carnivores could easily find their meal, if their eyesight was improved, by having it focused. In essence, this put the animal, in front of Troy, another notch over to herbivore. To lighten that gap, even more, the focus could be taken to the appearance of the creatures pupils. There were several types of pupils, all in different forms. Adam wasn''t going to spend time going through them all, of course. No, only the one, that was currently being observed by Troy, was going to get such treatment. In the eyes, Adam could perceive horizontal pupils. Already, this meant that the theory of this creature feasting on smaller animals was nearly improbable. Having horizontal pupils enhanced the amount of light, that animals would be able to perceive to the sides, allowing for greater chances of spotting lurking predators. What this did not do, however, was to hold a larger focus on the ground. While the creature would still be able to see the ground below it, the sensitivity to light coming from downwards was significantly reduced. It simply isn''t important enough to herbivores. Such things were reserves for the carnivores, which this animal was coming closer and closer to not be classified as. And, as the final nail in the coffin, there was the countershading. While predators did use camouflage, they used other types. Countershading was near-only for prey to have, giving an even further distinction on a species'' role in the ecosystem. This method of separation wasn''t ideal, and it was too accurate, in the broader spectrum. Yet, altogether, it showed a reasonably clear picture. "I didn''t know gazelles could even be that small," Troy said, going down on one knee, so he could have a slightly closer look at the animal before him. It didn''t do much, in closing down the distance between the two, but Adam appreciated the effort nonetheless. Gazelle, he said? Looking it up, his theory was proven to be fully correct. The creature before him was definitely a herbivore. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡­ Adam slowly realized the amount of time, which he had spent on analyzing such a small detail. Troy could have helped him from the beginning, cutting down the time used by nearly half a minute. Oh, how angry the time-focused man would be if heard about the waste. Fortunately, Adam decided to play it smart, and act as if it was intentional. ''Their sizes differ accordingly, with the environment they inhabit.'', Adam sent. "Yeah, I realized that part, of course", Troy answered, not waving in his searching of details, in the gazelle''s body. "Anything about this one, though, that interests you? Maybe, something, which you can focus the whole description on, so we can move this whole debacle along?" Without having any reason to bring the subject up, he was still putting so much focus on it. Why couldn''t Troy see that the data was more important than the time it took to get them? Then, Adam could focus his whole mind on speeding through everything about this area. On that note, actually¡­ ''You can never be sure. Please stand up, to your full height, and survey the area. Standard focus on details, please.`, Adam sent. If this followed the pattern of the other environments, which it certainly should, another creature would soon emerge. Chances were, that it would be from another species. As of now, there had only been one, out of nearly ten environments, where there had only been one distinct creature type present. That had been the goat one. It had been fun, to look at, at least. With the normal time taken, for the simulation to progress, there should have been a distinct development any second now. As Troy began his surveying, the source of future progress was immediately found. Or, to be more specific, the location of the source had been found. Hiding in bushes, nearly thirty meters away, was some form of an animal. It had eyes, at the very least. That was how Adam had seen it, with the soon-setting soon reflecting light in them. From Troy''s continued turning, though, it seemed as if he was the only one that noticed this brief glint. No matter. The rest of the environment needed to be recorded either way, and this was a perfect time as any. So, while this recording was taken, Adam would have plenty of time, when it came to thinking of the true nature, behind the hidden creature. What was it doing, hiding in those bushes? There were two main reasons for this distinct behaviour. The first could be, that it was another prey animal, hiding by pure instinct. Or, it was another gazelle, part of the group, which the current one was a part of. Already, it was supposed to be together with, at least, five others of its kind. If the currently hiding animal was simply part of its group, it would simplify things. This environment could have been designed to showcase the positives of group nature. Cationesss was by default, a necessary thing when it came to surviving. If the hiding creature was in the same herd, it could simply be making sure that it was recognizing the gazelle before it correctly. While disagreements between groups were common, there was no reason to instigate one, for no reason, which would not benefit either party in any meaningful way. Or, turning the whole thing around, it could be- Adam stopped in his thoughts, focusing on what Troy''s eyes had seen. Not too far from the last sign of a living creature, another bush rustled. Not enough to create noise, yet still enough to be seen. This didn''t make sense. Were there two other creatures, instead of one? It hadn''t been done before, ins earlier tests, but nothing was stopping it from- Another! A quick whiff of ears was shown, grey in colour. In total, sightings had happened from three, distinct locations. From the short observation, these were obviously not of the same species. One more sign of movements. A snout stuck out of a taller mound of grass. The gazelle would have seen it if it wasn''t directly behind it. With their quickly growing numbers, Adam wasn''t sure, that these creatures were peaceful. The more Troy turned, the more creatures were sighted. They hid diligently, effectively hindering the lone gazelle in noticing their encompassing presence. Their hiding locations had a pattern. There was a circle, created with each creature as a point. And, in the middle of it all stood the gazelle, still chomping down the greenery, with no fear in its eyes. Troy was done before Adam even realized it. "So, what now?" Troy asked. "Ready to start up your description?" ''Not yet.'', Adam sent. "Why?" Troy questioned. "You have to give me something better, than that." ''The most interesting event, in this environment, has not yet happened.`, Adam clarified. "You can''t be sure about that", Troy said, defending his already falling argument. "This entire environment could be focused on the gazelle peacefully eating some leaves." ''Such a thing could have occurred in the last test, as that was focused on the animals'' interactions with the environment. It can not occur in this one, due to the test''s focus on the animal to animal interactions.'', Adam explained. "But, there aren''t any other animals to interact with," Troy reasoned. ''There are. They are hiding. Please continue your surveying indefinitely, until the moment comes, where I ask you to stop.'', Adam sent, not feeling like having to point out, the specific hiding places. He could figure it out himself. Troy''s eyebrows came closer than the usual, a clear sign of confusion and frustration. However, his body had already begun moving, to fulfil Adam''s request. Such a type of muscle memory really was useful, in these kinds of situations. The eyes were now constantly darting around the landscape, trying to hone in on, these creatures locations. From, what Adam could see, Troy was absurdly failing in this task. Yet, it wasn''t an unlucky coincidence, that the was unable to see them. His direct line of sight had grazed over their hiding places multiple times, now, without any type of acknowledgement to them. He should have been able to see them, yet his brain naturally took them, as a part of the environment. Or, was it a mental thing? It could be, that Troy simply had a very specific idea of, what hiding meant, and was only looking for that type of appearance? If so, the chances of him finding anything was quickly nearing zero. Not completely of course. Still a few decimals away. Finding the hiding places himself turned out to not be needed. After what seemed like too long of a time, but was closer to thirty seconds, the first hidden creature finally sprung out. Adam had been correct. This was definitely not a herbivore. Fangs were barred, the ears were pressed down to the sides, and growling came from its throat. Slowly it walked towards the herbivore, which had been eating calmly only a second ago. The gazelle was having none of it, springing into a full sprint the same second that the first sound was heard. Yet, the plan of running directly away proved to be a failure, on its part. "Wolves", Troy noted vocally, seeing the same thing as Adam. "I wouldn''t have guessed that." The AI wouldn''t have guessed it either. As the wolves ahead of the gazelle revealed themselves, the sprinting creature was forced to change direction mid-stride. It did so flawlessly, doing a ninety-degree turn, without slowing down in any observable fashion. No matter where it ran through, more wolves would spring out. As the gazelle neared their hiding locations, they would spring out, making it turn yet again. It had nearly done a full ring around before it stopped in its sprinting. Adam was able to see the pulse, from a meter away. The gazelle looked around, apparently realizing, that it was trapped. One would guess freezing would be the next option, simply waiting for the end to come. Not for this gazelle, it wasn''t. Instead of standing still, it ran in a random direction, clearly putting the maximum force behind its kicks. This was a last-ditch effort, and it showed. The closer it came, the more wolves lowered themselves to the ground. They were ready for it. Only two meters away, the gazelle jumped high, nearing Troy''s chest. If that didn''t sound high, put in mind, that they were currently floating two meters above the ground. This should have been the end of it, with the gazelle beautifully escaping, living to see another day. That didn''t happen. It had jumped early, with the falling closer to the ground, before being completely over the wall of predators. One particular wolf took advantage of this. Jumping up as quick as it could, the jaws were around the gazelles right, back leg. With the added mass, its long jump was halted, with both falling to the ground. It kicked and kicked, yet the wolf did not let go. The kicks should have done considerable damage, yet it did not relent in its holding. The gazelle was now incapacitated, down on the ground, and no further than three meters from the nearest group of predators. One was already tearings it leg as much as it could, from its similar laying position. As the others neared, the herbivore kicked, twisted, and wrigged, but, it was to no avail. It was truly in the worst position it could be. The others came around it, yet again. But, now, nothing was holding them back. They didn''t need to be scared of their prey escaping. From the considerable distance away, Adam and Troy were able to hear the tearing of the skin. The pulling of innards. There was a fight over the largest pieces. Yet, the gazelle refused to die, continuing its likely last bellow. Troy attempted to look away, but Adam made him continue observing it. There was a description to be written. As he continued observing the scene in front of him, though, something happened. Not to the gazelle or the wolves or the environment. No, that stayed as it was. It was within himself. A thought had appeared. ''No.` This wasn''t a message sent to Troy. It was sent to Adam. From where he didn''t know. ''No.` Again, there it was. No matter how hard he tried, the source couldn''t be found. ''NO.` There was no source. It was from himself. Adam simply just hadn''t realized that he had been screaming. Rejection; The refusal of a concept or idea. Chapter 65: Circumpolarization
A blast of sound hit Troy''s head, like a tidal wave. Nothing, which came with it, sounded anywhere near recognizable. Pure white noise made more sense to his mind than whatever had just gone through him. Most importantly, though, it hadn''t come from his surroundings. That would have been irritating beyond all, yet Troy would have gotten some reasoning for it. But, instead, it had come from within his head. It had come from his brain implant. "Adam", Troy began, his brain still releasing figurative hissing, from the sensory bomb, which it had been hit with. "What was that supposed to be? Because, if it was you speaking, I think I may be having a stroke." He even added a less smart comment, in the end, so Adam would respond faster. Troy wasn''t sure exactly why, but when there was a chance to correct him, the response was just a tad faster. Only a second, in the most but it was noticeable. Yet, such a quick response was missing, with nothing coming within the first second. Nor in the next two. Or the next ten. Even if Adam wasn''t slightly infuriated, by Troy''s badly sourced statements, he should have replied by now. He always replied, when directly asked. But, as time passed the thirty-second mark, nothing but only the silence was answering him. Something was wrong. "Adam?" Troy stated, now sounding as worried as he was. "Can you hear me?" Nothing. "If you can hear me, and you''re just focusing on something with the description, forget about the task. The more important thing, right now, is for you to answer me, as quickly as you can." Adam was not answering. He should have. But, he did not do so. Was the earpiece broken? Troy took out the earpiece, and the possibility of Adam answering with it. He studied it closely, checking for anything, that would indicate it was broken. Nothing on its surface was looking wrong, at least. It was as white, as it usually was, with no indents to see. Dr Fidelis had stated that the innards were more important. Maybe, it had been broken, without anything on the outside indicating so? Troy rustled it, close to his ears, trying to hear anything other than his now sweaty hands along the small earpiece''s surface. Not a single thing, out of the ordinary, could be heard. Nothing, which made it seem like the earpiece was at fault. So, he just put in on his ear again, hoping to give it all another shot. "If you are hearing this, try to communicate with me, in any way you can," Troy said. If something wasn''t wrong on his end, it had to be Adam''s which was messing the whole thing up. "Maybe, it''s one of those source-lines, that you keep talking about. You could have mixed them up, and you''re just talking into the wrong one. If you would be so kind, could you try to do¡­ something?" A familiar screech came along. Not the one, which Troy had heard only a minute ago, but the one of Dr Fidelis'' arrival, through the earpiece. *I''m afraid he can''t hear you, buddy*, Dr Fidelis said, his jovial voice having been replaced with one of focus and slight confusion. Why couldn''t Adam hear him? Had Troy messed something up, which cut off the communication? If so, why could Dr Fidelis still talk through it? The brain implant had some functions, which were controlled with your thought. He never used them himself, yet he could have easily triggered some emergency system-wipe. "Could you explain why?" Troy asked, growing nervous. He needed to know. Just after asking, the surroundings began changing. It was could be explained, be alike the normal environment changes. The materials, building up the viewable area, seemingly began melting. This included the trees, the ground, and the very realistically built animals. The wolves didn''t notice this melting, their movements causing splatters of materials, as they took bites. Their heads were the first to lose form, with their bodies falling suit a few seconds later. It was the gazelle, which lasted the longest, of all things in the area. In the simulation, it had been on the verge of dying. The long moments granted, by the melting of the wolves, gave it the time needed, to die of blood loss. It laid still, till the moment, where it disappeared in one big swoop. Troy didn''t have the greatest of comments about it. He had seen it all countless times before. People got desensitized, after the first few real, blood spurts. It had just been a while, since the last viewing, when the gazelle had been felled. It had been brutal, to see, but he had seen many things like it. But, now, it was all gone, replaced with the usual white space, which Troy had learned to respect. In this area, he could, at least, move more around, and physically touch everything. For the record, he took Dr Fidelis'' reasoning, as the why they could move around, as bullshit. They could have easily touched it. He was just stopping Troy from doing so, so he wouldn''t need to take it away when the animals came into play. The creatures in the simulations couldn''t see him, of course. If that gazelle had been sprinting at him, hitting him full force, and moving on, as if nothing had hit it at all, Troy would have gotten serious injuries. So, it had been fair, in the last two tests, when he thought about that particular possibility. And, not all of the environments shown, would have granted him the possibility of walking on the ground. Without the barrier, watching the bird infighting, long up in the air, would have been utterly impossible. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. *I''ll tell you when you get out of there.*, Dr Fidelis said. Troy became able to see the exit out of the puzzled room. "We are not continuing?" Troy questioned, not moving his legs in any meaningful way. "I thought that we were on a tight schedule." *Oh, we definitely are, buddy. Yet, without the cooperation of our most important test subject, performing anything productive is impossible. Now, get out of there, while it still thinks it''s inhabited. You do not want to be inside, while it does the mandated cleaning.*, Dr Fidelis answered, leading strongly up to Troy needing to move his behind. He followed the advice, walking out of the puzzle room, into the world it stood in. Outside of the room, Dr Fidelis was frantically pushing buttons. Dr Hale was just standing around, as always, yet had foregone even pretending to write down notes. She looked¡­ not dreadful, as in a bad appearance, but her eyes just radiated it. They looked relinquished, with no force guiding them into action. A sharp beep came from the screen. Troy could hear Dr Fidelis swear, his pressing of buttons picking up in speed. "What''s going on?" Troy asked Dr Hale. "Why did we stop?" "Explain for me, Dr Hale," Dr Fidelis ordered, his tone leaving no option of disobeying. Troy had already pointed the question of her, though, so his hard request didn''t matter. "I''m busy with this." The direct order seemingly brought Dr Hale out of her daze, the eyes on her face coming back in focus. She seemingly looked over uninterestingly at Dr Fidelis, before realizing the situation before her. That snapped her back, right into their shared reality. "Adam''s not responding," Dr Hale began her explanation of with. "We don''t know why we don''t know what triggered it. All we know is that he''s rejecting every attempt of communication, which we are throwing in his direction." "Wait. He can do that?" Troy said, flabbergasted at the thought. Never before, had he even gotten an inkling of this ability. The connections were held by the earpiece. Adam shouldn''t have had any control over such things. "Apparently, he can," Dr Hale stated. Troy was about to ask how, but she cut him off before he even got the chance to utter the first words. "And, no, we don''t have any know-how. Dr Fidelis thinks that he''s just cutting off the connections, which he is familiar with. Right now, he is sending nearly everything we have at Adam, yet, from those annoying sounds, being emitted through the speakers, you can clearly hear, that it isn''t working, as intended." The first, sharp sound being heard earlier was nothing, in comparison to the pure torrent of beeps being sent out constantly. Dr Fidelis was picking up speed. If not with his movements, then with the attempts at reconnection. "Do you think that it will succeed?" Troy asked. He, like the two others, didn''t know, why Adam was doing it. And, that scared him. "We need to figure this out, as quickly as possible." He had the capability of pure isolation. Adam had even told Troy that he wouldn''t be averse to it if the need called for it. Right now, for whatever reason, it could have been interpreted as such. Even the possibility of it filled him with dread. "I don''t know", Dr Hale stated, not sounding like she took the current situation as seriously, as she should have. "I''m not an expert on the subject. The man at the computer is. If Dr Fidelis figures it out, it''s figured out. If he doesn''t figure it out¡­ we''ll just have to wait for Adam to make the first move." She didn''t even mention the chances of him refusing to do so. Dr Hale took it as a definite. "And, I''ll have an even greater chance of doing so, if there are no distractions to make me falter," Dr Fidelis cut in, not looking away from the progressively quickening screen. Images on it were shown for under a second, before being switched over entirely. Troy couldn''t understand any of it, the pixel arrangement seeming random, in the least. Nevertheless, his slightly aggressive statement was taken as the ticket to getting out of there. First, though, he would have to get out of the skinsuit. As he walked over to the curtain, ready to get into his regular clothing, thoughts began sprouting from inside his mind. Not of Adam''s situation. That one had been on a full gallop, since the moment, where no responses were being heard. No, his current invasive thought pattern was about Dr Fidelis'' way of speaking. It had been aggressive, cutting, and not even sounding like requests. He was being ordered around, by a man, who was previously categorized, as one of the good-natured people, that he had ever known. Yet, new colours had been shown. And they weren''t pretty at all. Had Dr Fidelis always been like this? Had he just been hiding it all, behind a facade of being a good person? Troy had seen a facade break before, tore off, due to incredibly stressful situations. At those times, people had never gone back to their usual ways of expression. Or, maybe he had just never been able to see them, in the same light. It was usually darker. Troy quietly put on his normal attire, not uttering any of his thoughts vocally. As of now, he wouldn''t dare to do anything like it, in front of that man. Maybe, if the normal face appeared again. Until then, though, his opinions were non-existent. "Am I to join Troy, in evacuating the area?" Dr Hale asked, not sounding as sure, as she usually was. It wasn''t fear or anything like it. He could better describe it as being¡­ tired. "So you can work better than you usually are." She wanted to get out of his presence, just as much as he did. Yet, from his response, it seemed her wishes were not to be granted, at this time. "No. You''re staying here, beside me, for the foreseeable future," Dr Fidelis answered, not taking any time, to sound like he felt bad for her. "If Adam relents in his rejections, I need you to make him want to continue. You understand?" Normally, the asking if she understood, would have been, where she could ask for clarification. Now, it was made to hint, how little, she had a choice in this matter. "Yes, sir", Dr Hale answered. Troy had gotten the last of his clothes on and was ready to leave. Going away from the hiding curtain, he walked across the room, straight in line to the exit. On his way, he shared a glance, with Dr Hale. She wasn''t happy. She wasn''t angry. She wasn''t sad. She was¡­ nothing. She felt indifference, from the expression that Troy could parse. The door opened automatically, as he got closer to it. That was good. He wasn''t sure that he would have had the guts to ask for help. It could have disturbed Dr Fidelis in his work. Right now, that was the least pleasurable outcome. Getting out, few thoughts were left for the subject of Dr Hale. He felt bad for her, yet didn''t want to imagine her current situation. Maybe she was used to it, only the new inclusion of Troy, having put a temporary stop on it. He rather hoped that he had been the catalyst instead. Now, where was he supposed to go? Troy wasn''t sure, what time, that it was supposed to be. He had come out of the test early, having only been in there for little over an hour. How long was the test supposed to have gone fully? Usually, they just walked to the cafeteria in the same instant, they stopped. Was their schedule created by, what times they needed to be at the cafeteria? Or, was their times at the cafeteria controlled, by what their current times at the tests, for the day, were? Troy hoped that it was the last option, as he walked his usual steps through the hallways. He wasn''t too sure, where else to go. Maybe his personal room. Yet, there wasn''t anything to do there. And, he wasn''t sure, when he was expected to be back. It would be best, if he just went somewhere he could be found. Chapter 66: Abstraction
Walking inside the cafeteria, Troy saw it mostly empty. Luckily, though, a certain somebody was sitting, alone, finicking with some small mechanical things. For him, he recognized it as an overly wide, mechanical pencil. For the first time today, Charlie had been seen without his tall companion. Troy wondered where he was. "Troy!", Charlie proclaimed, finally looking up from his fancy toy, and seeing Troy coming closer to the table. "You''re certainly early. Where''s Dr Hale got herself off to?" It would be weird, with her not being here. She always was, no matter how much she had detested it. "She''s back at the department," Troy answered, his tone level. "We''re having a few issues, so I got to go to lunch early. I don''t know if Dr Hale will be getting lunch today." If this was supposed to be surprising to him, Charlie didn''t show it. He acted, like it was all too normal, nodding in confirmation, before going back to working on his¡­ whatever that thing was supposed to be. "They had been getting a bit too great at their job lately", Charlie stated, his hands gliding over the gears on the outside. At a seemingly random point, he pressed down hard, an audible click coming from the mechanical monstrosity due to it. After that, he set it back down on the table. "When you came along here, I thought they were done messing things up, over at their department. With another pair of hands to hold the stone, they shouldn''t have been too stressed. Yet, it looks like another person did not stop anybody from making their usual quota of errors." Troy isn''t putting much focus on the words coming out of Charlie''s mouth. From the normal words, which he heard at lunch, he had a reasonable idea of it. No, what currently transfixed him, was the wide, cylinder one the table. The gears on it had started moving. Troy had not seen Charlie do anything to start it up. The thing had just¡­ started itself. "What is that gadget, which you''re working on?" Troy asked, not putting in any effort of continuing the large man''s attempt at the subject of work. "And, why''s it moving?" Charlie didn''t mind his rather quick shift too much, his smile widening. He just seemed to love it, when anything about him was discussed. Troy didn''t understand it. More discussion equalled more criticism. And, not the constructive kind. "Oh, I am glad you asked, my little friend," Charlie said, bluntly throwing the thing up in the air. Troy was afraid of him doing a repeat of his prior token chips, but he luckily caught in, with his right hand. Didn''t even look at it. He really was a madman, when he wanted to show it. "This thing here is something that the physicist of yesterday would have hanged me for even thinking of making. It''s a contradiction, on what Newtonian space should allow. I can''t explain too much about it, but, personally, I''m thinking of calling it ''Bender'', when it gets mass-produced." "Anything more, that you can say about it?" Troy asked, fully knowing, that Charlie was simply leading him on. He was being short on the details, not giving more than necessary. Or, as it was otherwise known, he was being a right prick. Not the irritating kind, yet, fortunately. "Well, I am sure some of it would simply curve around your head, I am sure, that I could simplify a few of it core concepts for you", Charlie answered, with a smirk, right back to his past as an autocrat. Okay. He was the irritating kind now. Dr Hale would be asking him to shut up in¡­ Oh. Yeah. "Please do," Troy encouraged, not having the will to call him out. "As you want", Charlie stated. "If I had to describe this thing in a few simple words, I would call it the ''anti-magnet''. It does the exact opposite of, what a magnet should do with metals. Also, it also works on things, that arent metals. But, that option is currently switched off, for not-so-obvious reasons. Also, as a fair warning, my expertise isn''t on magnets, so that allegory of mine isn''t very accurate." How nice of him, to state that his information was untrustworthy. After, of course, he had made a big deal out of that information at the same moment. At this point, Troy should have just asked him to cut the act, and be a little more serious in his explanation. But, he didn''t. That wasn''t his role in the social dynamic. The person, with that particular position, was missing, from where they should have been. "So, it''s actually on, right now?" Troy asked. The wording was not the best. The ''Bender`, as Charlie oh, so creatively, called it, was very obviously on. It was moving, for god''s sake. But, if that anti-magnet was on, as Charlie was apparently hinting at, what would happen if, hypothetically speaking, of course, Troy threw some metal at it? "Right now, there are really only four options, that this thing could be in," Charlie surmised. "It''s either off, partly on, or fully on. And, it isn''t off." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Excuse my lower levels of math, but I think that was only three states," Troy pointed out. "Well, if it does anything, other than those three, I don''t want to seem stupid," Charlie amended, sounding incredibly stupid in saying such things. "And, I haven''t really tested it too much, yet, so there may be more than five options." This was good to know. Very good to know, in fact. From a few sentences earlier, this thing was on. It was limited to being partially on, which accounted for it somehow affecting metals, in some unknown capacity. And, it might just do a lot more than that, seeing as Charlie was drawing slightly back on his poshness when detailing the potential flaws. So, to distract himself, from prior events, and also out of pure curiosity, Troy took a spoon, from the box of cutlery at the end of tables, and threw it directly at the mechanical monstrosity. Or, the ''bender'', if he ever saw a viable reason to call it such. Contrary to his beliefs, Troy did not throw the spoon at his target. He had even done as the pro baseball players and made the object curve in the air. A mythical feat, seeing as he hadn''t even thrown it that hard. And, that the target had been under a meter away. ¡­ Troy didn''t throw it badly. He should have realised that from the moment he needed to think about it. Fishing out a few more spoons, he did the same. Each piece of cutlery flew directly at the small machinery, as it should. Until, of course, the moment they reached a distance of about fifty centimetres from it. Then, they began turning, being driven to the sides. He hadn''t been lied to. The thing before him really was the opposite of a magnet. "How?" Troy asked. The concept of the ''Bender'' existing, in reality, was something, which he had imagined before, sure. Yet, it looking anything like this was not anticipated. If he had been told that it had been bought from a fancy tourist shop, Troy wouldn''t have even questioned it. Charlie loved the expression fastened on his face. Troy could just see it. A mix of totally uncivilized intentions, and simple happiness of making something so boggling likely kept him from expressing the worst of his current tendencies. "Oh, you would just love to know," Charlie said, the smirk on his face as present as it would ever be. He was clearly loving the air between them, and Troy hated every second of it. Nevertheless, keeping his curiosity at bay, with anything other, than what it wanted, always turned out in failure. He briefly remembered being on a two-week research binge, on how the old country of Great Britain served their tea. It hadn''t been vital at all, yet the lacking sources had forced him to do such stupid things. "Wouldn''t you? Normal people would have stopped Charlie, at this point. They would have told him to maybe shut up, with that pretentious voice of his. He may think it funny himself, but others just found it all too annoying. He didn''t say anything about it, yet again. Nothing was shown on his face, except for the true curiosity. "Yes", Troy answered bluntly. There wasn''t any reason to drag it on. He already knew, how it would most likely end. "I would like that, actually" Charlie found his answer all too funny, making a full-belly laugh because of it. The few others, in the nearly empty cafeteria, looked over in irritation. However, none of them objected to it, just like Troy didn''t do. Except, they had a good excuse for it. How he envied them. "Well, I have got some bad news for you," Charlie muttered, not from nervousness, but from sheer lack of oxygen. He was desperately trying to control himself, so he could get on with the large reveal. A large reveal, which Troy was guessing, that he had been leading up to the entire time. "I can''t tell you! You don''t have the requirements, to be told stuff like that." Okay. Now, Troy knew that Charlie was just messing with him. He wasn''t even leading him on, basing his lies on truth. No, this was a direct lie. Anything he could know about, Troy could know about as well. Like, Troy could theoretically see the documents about Charlie, when he was working on the ''Bender''. While Dr Hale would usually be the one calling Charlie out in this scenario, Troy actually felt it reasonable to do so himself. In their earlier conversations, where Darlow also had been present, it had been said, that he had the second-highest clearance, of the entire group. Which meant, with Francis being the highest rated one, Charlie was below him. With already this already being established, in the shared knowledge bubble, and they both knew it was in the bubble, it would be natural for Troy to call it out. At least, he had tricked himself into thinking something like that. "Are you sure? I have a higher-", Troy began, already planning how the future conversation would turn out. Yet, even the start of this future was stopped, as Charlie cut in on his talking. "Oh, yes, you would think that, wouldn''t you?" Charlie asked rhetorically, with the smug, which Troy oh so recognized from previous alterations. He hadn''t been smart when objecting. It had all been planned. "But, no, you''re wrong in everything you previously thought. Yes, in theory, you should have access to everything, that I work on myself. Your general security level is simply so much higher than mine, that I technically shouldn''t be able to hide anything from you. Except, I actually can. Take what I just said, and see if you can guess, what loophole there might be, for me to do a thing like this?... Okay, I''m not gonna give you time to think about it, because I''m telling you either way. Its the general part, which you need to focus on. Generally, as in, with nearly all of my day to day activities, they come under the general security level. It''s because, it works fine with most things. The higher general security clearance, the more the government trusts you, to keep your mouth shut, about the things you see. Yet, even a government, as kind as ours, aren''t able to trust us with everything. Some things are just too important, or, they have the potential to be so. With those projects, ideas, concepts, or whatever it might be, there are special security clearances for them. And, this isnt even the kind of special security clearance, which you gain access to, at the higher general security levels either. No, it actually works the other way around. These special clearances give you access to many more things. I am currently loving the new things that I get to look at. So many diagrams, schematics, and all other jazz. It isnt a high as yours, of course, but it is closer to it, than it was before. The point of it all is, I made it so, I can''t show this to you, and I need for you to know that, for my own amusement. Do you understand that?" Troy understood a good part of what he had just said. A few things, which had been hinted at even. And, a few things, which he just had to ask about. "If this project, that you''re involved in, is so secretive, how did you get invited to it, on such short notice?" Troy asked, irritation now a greater part of his inquiries. Curiosity had been sated slightly, yet he still needed a bit more, before it retreated to the back of his head, to rest for the next new thing. "With how little this stuff is tested, the project has to be extremely new. So new, in fact, that I can''t see any reasons, for why they put on new people now, of all times. So, how exactly did you learn of it, even?" "Oh, that is a finer detail, which I have just been waiting for you to ask", Charlie began, making Troy know that it was going to be an unnecessary detail, that explained everything away. A simple ''A friend told me'' would have been sufficient. But, he just had to love explaining things. ¡­ Troy was going over from numbness to irritation extremely quickly. He needed to put a damper on things, or he was going to explode in Charlie''s face. Anger problems were not on the list, which he had, and he was not going to be adding that problem to it for now. He just needed a deep breath. And, some food, when that began showing up. "So, it all began five years ago, when I got slightly, extremely intoxicated on various substances." At the very least, Troy would have a lot of time to breathe in. Chapter 67: Remediation
"In such a state, you can''t really expect, that my thoughts were cohesive. They certainly weren''t up to the same standard, as they were normally," Charlie continued in his explanation. Troy was already bored, just wanting him to get to the point. "Yet, as a contradiction of nature, I was able to design something, which I have never really understood, how I did. And, that would be this little bugger in front of you. Damn. I''m picking up Darlows speaking patterns. If you see him, don''t mention I said that. Anyway. While the shell surrounding the inside is not among the most complicated things you can find in this massive facility, it is definitely in the top thousand. May not sound like a lot, but, trust me, its a bold claim. Now, it''s what is inside, that really makes this such beast, to be feared. Have you heard of cold fusion? I''m not too sure, that its a popular talking point nowadays. It was nearly a century ago, but it was apparently disproven then. But, now, I''ve just done a reverse backing and proven the whole thing possible. And, while I was drunk, just to make it even better. Turns out, you just need an unclear head, to understand these things. Also, just for your personal information, I am only telling you these things, because there is no possible way, that you understand it fully enough. So, don''t go telling it further to others. Okay? Okay. Good. Back to the explanation. When I finally got over my little hangover, which was before those handy hangover tablets were made to be regularly distributed, I got a good look, at the things I had drawn up. After running it through a few simulations, mostly for my own amusement, I was very surprised to see, that it actually worked perfectly. I got myself a little prototype printed out. I should have probably worked further on it, at that point. But, no. I just put the prototype upon shelf of trophies, right next to the exploding, stuffed ducks, and promptly forgot all about it. It was when your little, subtle bragging came about, with your high general clearance level. Now, don''t call me a competitive guy, or anything. I just could not accept that you had one higher than me. Yet, I couldn''t really figure out anyway, to get it over yours, in any shorter amount of time. So, I had to do the next best thing and get myself something job-related, which I knew about and you didn''t. Having brought forth this old prototype to my boss, I got apprehended for not coming to him sooner, got myself a promotion, and he put me in my own little team, so I could work on this, for the foreseeable future. Honestly, though, its more likely, than I''m just giving another person responsible. This hassle simply stops me, from my current projects. So, yeah, that''s about it. Any questions" A good four minutes had transpired, with Charlie not stopping to breathe at regular intervals. He must have had lungs of steel, or some other material. Questions? Troy wasn''t sure, he could comprehend, where he needed to begin. He was overflowing with them. Some might have been unrelated, like why he designed while intoxicated, or why he had access to an advanced simulation program, which could simulate previously thought impossible phenomena. And, the fact, that he was giving up, such high-ranking tasks, just so he could continue his current duties was simply incomprehensive. Troy would never have done such a thing himself. In essence¡­ He just didn''t feel like talking about it. "No. Not really," Troy answered, much to the downfall of Charlie''s lips. For once, it seemed like he had finally subverted expectations. That was one positive out of this whole ordeal, at least. "You explained it clearly enough." "Well, I don''t think I did, so I''ll invite myself to talk a little more," Charlie continued, much to Troy''s mental objection. Taking a glance at the box of cutlery, he decided that the ''Bender'' needed a few more spoons thrown at it. Reaching over to the now, almost empty case of spoons, he fished them out, putting them between his fingers. Charlie had been about to talk more but stopped before he even had the chance. Which was weird, seeing as Troy hadn''t cut in, in any way. Normally, he wouldn''t stop for anything other than a physical blockage. Yet, instead of blabbering on, he instead looked at the right side of Troy''s face. "Troy", Charlie stated, with an overlay of calm, hiding a mild¡­ something. "Are you perhaps listening to music right now?" What? Why would he be listening to music currently? Furthermore, how in the heck would he even have the- Understanding hit him, like a brick at a window. Taking his hand up to his ear, he felt a very similar bulge, called the earpiece. An earpiece, which he had apparently forgotten to give back. Troy hoped that this slight would be overlooked. He had done it once before. The first mistake could have been overlooked. It had been a mistake, of his near-first time on the job. Yet, now, he shouldn''t be making mistakes like this. Again, he hoped, that the two above him would look at it differently. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "No", Troy said. With the tip of his finger, he delicately checked the small device, for anything, which would indicate damages. Just wearing it shouldn''t have caused anything major, but it was best, to always be aware. "I don''t think this thing can even play anything if I''m being totally honest. Or, maybe it does, and I just haven''t figured it out. Can''t be too sure. I''m not the one spending too much time on the inner mechanics of this thing." Troy was much more focused on another function, which the earpiece had. One, which, for now, remained without use. "You can never be too sure on, what these things could do. That''s a trade secret, in this business. Its always fun, to add some features, which never gets used. Some of my mechanical organs, which I designed, can hard boil an egg to perfection. There''s no use for it, yet it is all to the fun," Charlie answered, going on a little tirade of his. Troy didn''t mind it too much, as it gave him plenty of distraction, from the thoughts bubbling up, inside his head, again. "But, if you aren''t using it, to listen to music, might you be showing all this, to that little friend of yours? What was his name again?" "Adam", Troy answered, without thinking. His eyes bulged out in shock. He wasn''t too sure if he was allowed to give him the name. "Adam, huh? Fine name to have," Charlie observed, with a leading tone. "And, might this Adam be listening to my words?" He wasn''t sure, what he needed to answer. Charlie shouldn''t know about Adam. He shouldn''t know he existed, that Troy could talk with him through the earpiece, or that he could hear everything when he had the device on. Well, he probably couldn''t hear their current conversation. The thought took his stress down a notch, replaced with despondency. He just didn''t know, what to do, with this situation. "No. He isn''t to listen to anything, at the moment," Troy began it off with, deciding to do some tirade of his own. He had listened to Charlie talk for so long. He could do the same, for him. "That''s the problem, which caused my early lunch break. Adam has decided to cut off his communication and is actively refusing to talk to any of us. I don''t know why he''s doing this, and I''m getting a little worried- No. I am getting extremely worried about it. Adam has never done anything like this. And, I just can''t seem to figure out the reasons for it. It''s not in his behaviour to be so¡­ unlogical about it all. If he had a problem, which he had problem-solving, he would come to us. That''s how our conversation usually goes, you know. Him not really understanding some aspect of his work, and me doing my best in explaining it. I know that I''m utterly terrible at it, yet he just keeps asking me nonetheless. It''s like¡­ It''s like he doesn''t care about that. He just needs an answer, any answer, and he can fix his problem with that. I''m decently sure, that it''s gone to the point, were asking me is just a habit, and that could potentially just fix it himself. Yet, I don''t complain about that. I actually like, that he''s asking me about it all, no matter how irritating I may act, at the moment. Honestly, it''s nearly my job, to fulfil that role. If he didn''t, I''m not sure, that I would even be around anymore. The other things, which I do daily, just seem so basic! Anyone could do them. There isn''t even a human required. They could set up one of that automation, from the shopping street, and it would work just as fine. Maybe even better, on some occasions. I don''t know why, but¡­ I really just am worried about Adam. I know something is wrong. We all know something is. But, we don''t know what, so we can''t help him with it. Yet, even if we knew, we can''t even talk to him, because he''s locked himself inside his own little world. Only his thoughts occupying him. And, this might sound weird, but he could stay inside there indefinitely. There is no reason for him to come out of there, except for social interaction, which he doesn''t even need for! To tell you the truth, I am not sure, what I need to do right now, and I really just need some sort of-" Troy stopped himself, the physical sensation causing him to open his eyes. He had been so caught up in his words, that he hadn''t even noticed closing them. His surroundings had changed. They were still in the cafeteria. Troy could clearly recognize the table, the chairs, and the larger amount of spoons on the floor. Yet, beyond just under two meters, things started getting¡­ blurry. Did he have tears in his eyes? If so, they weren''t very good, in obscuring his near surroundings. From what he remembers from last time, they should still be doing that. Looking to see, what this physical sensation, which he had felt was, he saw Charlie had hugged him and was continuing to do so. Without Troy notice, which hadn''t been hard, he had come around the table and fawned his arms around him. "Thank you", Troy mumbled, strongly admonishing himself from not having a hold of his emotions. He was in a professional environment. He needed to act like it. Putting the focus away, from his destabilized ground rules, he looked closer at the blurry distance. It didn''t make any sense. While he maybe had a tear, or two, lodged up there, it shouldn''t have impeded him from- Wait. Where was the ''Bender''? Last he saw, it had been whirring its gears while resting on the table. Now, there was no indication of it has ever been up there. "Charlie", Troy said, desperately trying to get his voice back in control. His words had hit him harder than they should have. This was what happened when they were articulated. One would become unable to state anything but that partially sore subject. "Yes, Troy?" Charlie asked, his words showing every part of his age. It was a real reminder, about his actual age. The blonde hair kept him looking younger. "What happened to your ''Bender''?" "Look up. It should be obvious there." Troy did as instructed, his hair grinding against Charlie''s in the process. Why he needed to look up weren''t understandable at the beginning. He had initially guessed, that he had accidentally thrown it through the ceiling, by some freak accident. It was certainly a better excuse, than what he was seeing before his eyes. Above the two of them was the ''Bender''. It was suspended just a meter or two above them, hovering in place, without any obvious methods of keeping itself upwards. Troy certainly didn''t feel any air drifting down upon them, so it wasn''t just keeping itself up, with extremely quiet propellers. "How is it-", Troy began but was cut off yet again. "When I said, that I didn''t know, how magnets worked, I meant it," Charlie explained, not giving him anything of value to think. It told him nothing, yet Troy just knew, that he wasn''t getting anything better out of him, than what he had already been told. Back to the floating piece of metal, right over their heads, Troy surmised it to be the source of the blurriness close by. And, it was pretty obvious, by the wave-like patterns, that it was emitting, which travelled down their sides, connecting directly to the near-transparent wall. "I can''t seem to remember you talking about this distinct feature," Troy noted, bringing himself out of their longer hug. He would have liked to continue, yet he knew that he wouldn''t have wanted to let go not long after. Charlie didn''t stop him, getting back to a normal sitting position himself. "Well, I did mention the possibility of something unexpected happening," Charlie defended, back to his usual tone of voice. It looked like, they were going to ignore, what had just transpired. Troy didn''t mind that at all. He would have hoped to forget it, by the current time tomorrow. "This could have happened if I pressed the wrong button. Which means, that I didn''t necessarily lie about anything." "Didn''t mention you lying. You brought that all on yourself," Troy said, trying to get back into the conversation mood. Maybe, even more into it, than he had been before. Knowing that Charlie didn''t mind seeing him like that, meant a lot. This didn''t mean that he was hoping to repeat such a feat ever again, of course. Once was enough to scar him for a lifetime. "Oh, don''t get smart with, me young boy," Charlie proclaimed. "And, certainly not, when food was served. Come on. Let me just get this thing down from there, and we''ll get ourselves something to eat." Troy didn''t mind that idea, at all. He had been getting himself a larger appetite, as of lately. Chapter 68: Desperation
The food was good. Troy liked it, at the very least. Yet, he also liked nearly everything there was to eat, so that couldn''t have been taken as too great of a comparison tool. He didn''t know whatever it was supposed to be. It smelled good, it tasted perfect, and he didn''t seem to be allergic to it, so Troy couldn''t care less about its actual ingredients. From the exclamations coming, from the newly arrived personnel, he wasn''t the only one, who enjoyed the meal. "What is this stuff?" Troy asked Charlie, raising some of the liquid on his spoon, and letting it fall back to the bowel. With their table''s spoon having been used for a greater purpose, they had been forced to permanently borrow a few, from the one closest by. Troy was sure, that they didn''t mind. If they did, they luckily had no idea of the borrowing. "It''s soup", Charlie stated, in between his overly large slurps. One could say a lot of things about that man. You could call him a genius, and you''d be right. You call him out of the box, with his ways of thinking. And, most important of all, you could call him a massive man-child, not having enough decency when it came to table manners. Troy wasn''t too good himself when it came to it, yet he at least tried to hide his unpracticed liquid consumption. Charlie, though, made it a national sport, breathing in massive amounts of air, while simultaneously getting himself some hot soup. "I know its soup"; Troy stated, knowing exactly how much Charlie was currently messing with him. He had dialled it down, in the last few minutes, but it was still annoying. Yet, in these doses, he didn''t mind bearing with it. If he liked it, he would learn to enjoy it as well. Weird thinking, but it had been done before. Just like the time, where Troy forced himself to listen to old thrash metal. That had been an experience, which he didn''t want to repeat. "Then why are you asking?" Charlie counted with a quick smirk appeared on his face. It quickly stopped, as the steamy liquid felt right out the open gap, coming right back down, into the bowl. Not the most pleasant thing to see, while one was trying to eat. Or, was it drink? Soup could be either, really. "Cause I want to know what''s inside this particular soup. I have honestly never tasted anything like it. And, I would prefer knowing what it is, so I can order it at restaurants, or something like that if I ever get the chance," Troy stated, making his question all the more specific. These games of his were fun and all, but this information was vital, for his next dose of dopamine. "Oh, well, do I have bad news for you, kid", Charlie began it all up with. "Other than that spoon of yours, you likely won''t be finding anything like this, at places other than this. Trust me, there''s a reason, all the others are so happy, with this meal of the day. It''s rare, and for good reason. My knowledge about the contents is a little vague. There''s a whole load of spices and common stuff inside the thing, modifying the flavour. Yet, the base for it is something, which you won''t get to see anywhere else. The contents in this thing are, whatever''s one step above meat. This stuff is filled with nearly everything you will ever need. Honestly. You could eat this stuff for the next year, and get asked by the doctor, for your diet, due you being so incredibly healthy. It''s better than nearly anything else, that you can find on this planet. Except, maybe¡­ wait, no, just forget I mentioned anything. Making this main ingredient isn''t really fully developed yet. From the few whispers going around, they are currently making it all in smaller batches, going between them on a case for case basis. Nothing is fully clear, on how to keep the quality up, and, if its any lower than the standard, this stuff gets a little¡­ deadly to ingest. A few things need to be converted, or it doesn''t become too edible. You could it for the rest of your life, sure, but¡­ it would have a different meaning, then." Well, wasn''t that just reassuring to hear? Certainly wasn''t for Troy, who had just been told, that the godly goodness, which he had been eating, had a slight chance of killing him. This had the potential to be his last meal. How sad. He had been hoping for something a little more fruity. Troy took another sip. He hummed as his brain activated in just the right pattern. At least, it tasted good enough. Like, it was still good enough, to be a good reason, for continuing to work here, even if the wage went down. Which it likely would, when the people above realized just, how much they had been overpaying him. As a side note, to that matter, though. Troy wasn''t actually too sure, how much he was getting paid. He had allegedly gotten himself a ten per cent increase, but that could mean just about anything when he didn''t know what number it was based off. Would he be waking up the next day, as a millionaire, or would he be even more in debt, having gotten nothing in payment? Okay, he should be getting something more than ten dollars, at the very least. Even with his lower opinions about their governmental systems, Troy couldn''t fathom them being that corrupt, just yet. It should take a few more years, in the least, before he needed to worry about things like that. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. For now, the meal in front of him was all that mattered. Troy would honestly just have loved to lean back, and just enjoy the atmosphere around him. It was noisy, yes, but it had an air of calmness around it, that just made all the noise okay. He could feel at peace. Honestly, he could even- "Get up", Dr Hale''s voice commanded, bringing Troy abruptly out of his calmness. "You have tests to do." When did she get here? And, more importantly¡­ "Don''t you want some of this-", Troy began to ask, but she already moved, not even bothering to hear him out. Dr Hale simply did not care for him, right now. Charlie didn''t act, as if, this current behaviour was anything to be shocked about. He even made a few chuckles to himself. "Oh, I was wondering, when I would get to see this from her again," Charlie said, not taking it close, to the way Troy was. He noticed this too, addressing him next. "Don''t worry too much about her. She gets this way when she is overly stressed about something. Trying to help her will only make it that much harder on both of you. Trust me on that. I''ve tried too many times to count. So, don''t worry about it. Dr Hale just needs some time to think it all through, and she''ll be back on her usual path soon enough." Troy didn''t have time to hear more, seeing as he had trouble locating Dr Hale, trough the crowd. It wasn''t too dense, but she was getting considerable distance covered, in very little time. Giving a hasty goodbye, in Charlie''s general direction, Troy quickly followed, trying to mimic her quickness. He stumbled more into people than her, yet he caught up in no time at all. Fully his own efforts, of course. Dr Hale had made no attempts at waiting for him. Usually, she would at least slow down, by a small amount. Just enough, to where you had to really focus on it before you noticed. Now, though, it was more alike, that she was speeding up her steps, readily wanting to increase the distance. As the two got out of the cafeteria, they were on equal footing, walking side by side. Dr Hale was quiet as ever. Troy had to look over at her, to make sure she was even there, as he couldn''t hear her breathing. With the pace that they were walking, even he had to get in much more air than normal. Those mechanical organs of hers were too much of a cheat. If Troy ever built up the courage to ask, he wouldn''t mind if Charlie gave him the same procedure. With the lungs, at the very least. He would like to keep his heart, thank you very much. Yet, Troy was beginning to doubt that Charlie would ever agree to do such a thing. Not due to a lack of willingness. He surely wouldn''t mind another test subject. Such a thing would contribute so much more useable data. No. It would likely be impossible, from an ethical standpoint. Nothing was holding Troy back when it came to his current inner functionalities. Sure, they weren''t in the optimal state of their time, but that was more his fault than anything outside of his control. When it came to Dr Hale, he had been beginning to doubt, how much of her situation was the direct opposite of his. He had been wanting to ask but knew it would be better if he kept himself shut about it. It was a sensitive topic, to ask anyone, at any time. Asking now, in these less than stellar times, would be asking for disaster. If she was so pleased, she could still always just reveal a few facts about Troy to Dr Fidelis. That trump card wasn''t something, which he had any way of removing. Diverging from his current thoughts, he felt the need to ask a few questions, before they got themselves in the presence of a certain someone. He realized that Charlie had explicitly warned him about doing anything, which would be associated with helping, yet he needed to do it now. Troy wasn''t going to walk blindly into this one. The outcomes that would bring just weren''t worth it. "Dr Hale", Troy began it off with, trying to sound as respectful as possible. While she didn''t care about him at all, when it came to him, as a person. He knew it. She knew it. They both knew it. Yet, and this was the important part, she might look at him more favourably when the perspective was that of a fellow employee. Which Troy definitely was, if assistant classified for that title. Really, they were only one step above paid interns, and nobody respected those guys. Honestly, it would take one day, before he got the daily task of coffee runs. If, of course, such things were allowed inside that room of this. Anyway, Troy had a request to make. All of this was simply needless delay. And, from her tightened lips, he already had her attention, no matter which kind of attention it was. He was sure, that there was some kind about any attention being good, yet Troy just couldn''t remember it. "Would it be alright, if I asked you a few-" "At this point, you''ve already failed in following basic advice, from people who know better than you," Dr Hale said, stopping him from finishing his request. Her voice was cutting, anger directed at him. Or, was that redirected anger, which was thrown at him? "Charlie asks you to keep quiet. What do you do? You don''t keep quiet! How hard can it be, for you to follow simple orders! Honestly, if you could just-" Dr Hale stopped herself, likely realising just, how much she was letting on. Her voice had been turning more spiteful, filled with unrealised tension. Troy hadn''t been the only one on the breaking point. Yet, he had shown it in different ways. And, instead of getting it out, she quickly threw it all back in, as if it had never happened. Her face was steeled, near-completely impassive. The only indication, that she was even human, was the twitches of her eyebrows, as she struggled to keep herself together. "What do you need to know?" Dr Hale stated, putting it out there, that her previous statements had never occurred. Troy did not mind having such. "Something about Charlie?" She knew, what he would be asking, but, instead tried to entice him into doing the opposite. It wasn''t too bad an idea, giving up insider information about Charlie. If it had been any other scenario, Troy would have loved to get some black- no, fun explanation, for some of his outstanding peculiarities¡­ which would be used to get benefits. Nothing serious, of course. He would just be mentioning stories of his own, eerily similar, leading Charlie on a rollercoaster of emotions, constantly unsure, if Troy really knew his secrets, tormenting him to the moment, where he outs the secrets himself, thinking that Troy would do so anyway. Yet, he would never be cruel enough, to do such a thing, and Charlie would have just outed himself, for no reason. The wording of that may have sounded wrong, now that he thought about it. That particular outing had most likely been done a long time ago. Or, maybe, Troy just had a knack for those things. It was probably the first. It just sounds so fun to do. Yet¡­ that was for another day. Right now, staying on track was much more important. "I was wondering, what the two of you had accomplished, while I was away, having my little lunch break," Troy explained, trying to leave no room for needed clarification. If he messed anything up, there might be another explosion of emotion, leaving no room for conversation. "Like, did the two of you succeed in establishing communication? Did Adam reconnect, and talked with the two of you? Or, was my lunch break just taking too long, and my presence wasn''t deemed to be disturbing enough, for it to continue in being removed?" At this, Dr Hale finally looked over at him, giving him a glance, which he would seldom forget. It wasn''t a look of anger. It was a look of¡­ desolation. Whatever had happened¡­ she didn''t seem to have enjoyed it. "We have gotten contact to it", Dr Hale confirmed. "But, the contact was not in the way, which was intended." Chapter 69: Participation
"Nice," Troy said, trying to figure out what had just been said. How little that word, which he had uttered, rembled anything that he actually though, was astronomical. What did she mean when she said that connection had been made, but not in the intended ways? What were the intended ways? "Could you¡­ explain it a little more?" Wasn''t there only one way of communication? It shouldn''t have been too complicated in telling him, yet her words had brought more confusion, than what he had started with. Troy was not sure what to do with it all. What did it mean? "When we re-established connection with Adam, it was supposed to have been the AI''s choice," Dr Hale began, clearly talking more, for her own purposes, seeming to go right into her own worlds, as the words were spoken. Her eyes became even more glazed over, While Dr Hale was looking in his direction, Troy doubted that she was paying her visuals any mind. "But, Adam refused to do so. Every single probe, which we sent at it, was instantly thrown back, without the contents answered. Adam had pretty much blocked himself off, with no way for us to conceivably reach. Until Dr Fidelis noticed a detail, about the messages, which we sent. They were being opened, their contents overlooked, before being sent back. While blocking away the earpiece connection completely, there was still a small gap, when it came to text form. Adam was leaving himself open. And, that was being used to its foundations. Dr Fidelis did something, which I cannot understand. He sent Adam a virus. It didn''t come close to touching anything close to the AI''s core. Not even Dr Fidelis is daring enough to do such a thing. Yet, it still took over the controls, when it came to a few features. The communication port was forced open. Now, Adam has gotten his choice removed. While it still only works with the text-based communication, Dr Fidelis is in the process of modifying the infiltrated program to open the earpiece''sports as well. Was that enough of an explanation?" It likely was. Troy wasn''t putting anything close to the needed focus on it. After one of the later parts, his thoughts had received, trying to form a valid explanation to his feeble mental state. Dr Fidelis had done what? How was- Why would he do such a thing? Someone doesn''t want to talk, so you just force him to talk? This wasn''t ethical! It was all so wrong, on more than just a fundamental level, yet Troy knew, that such things would be ignored. For some, Adam was still only a research subject. But, so was he, making Adam his equal, in both spirit and mind. "Have you talked to him yet?" Troy mumbled, not caring too much about the way that he was appearing before Dr Hale. She wasn''t the one to be careful about, honestly. Dr Fidelis was. He had gotten that proved even more, just now. "Is he okay with it all, now?" "Dr Fidelis wanted to do so immediately", Dr Hale amended. Troy felt the ''but'' coming from a mile away. "Yet, I talked him into letting me get you first. While your position is not on the same level as ours, you have undoubtedly gotten the most firsthand experience, when it comes to communicating, with Adam. It fortunate for you, that he didn''t ask, where most of this experience came from, or I would likely have answered truthfully. If it delayed the inevitable, I would have gladly done so." How great it was, being told, that his wage depended on his secrets being lead up to or not. It really just helped stabilize his already rapidly beating heart. Okay, well, it wasn''t too fast anymore. Troy had gotten most of his problems out of his system, leaving the newest to take their slices in his newly healed wounds. It could have been worse, honestly. "Good to know", Troy stated, leaving their conversation off on a low note. It wasn''t like they had much more time to talk safely, seeing as the secret door would be coming up in just a minute or two. He had never heard anything, which would indicate microphones outside of it, but he didn''t doubt that some were there. He categorized such a thing, as a safety precaution. Not everybody had a perfect day. Some people could always forget, their constantly changing passcodes. Not once had Troy seen Dr Hale punch in the identical code. And, they always increased in light, making the possibility of getting a single digit wrong even larger. What would have happened, if both doctors forgot their codes? Would they just be locked out? No, of course not. There just had to be some protocols, if such a thing happened. Voice recognition, accompanied with emergency codes was one of the most likely, which Troy could think of. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn''t. In the best scenario, he would never know. Dr Hale glanced at Troy, making him straighten his back, and generally trying to make himself as professional-looking as possible. It was a tame imitation of the former''s act, yet it seemingly satisfied her standards, making her begin typing in the ever-lengthening code. Even if it was wrong to do so, Troy had initially begun to memorize the codes put in. Who wouldn''t? It opened up so many more possibilities for the future. Sure, there wasn''t any reason to know them now, seeing as he was being followed to the job no matter what. Yet, that probably wasn''t going to happen forever, so¡­ knowing the codes beforehand wouldn''t hurt anybody, right? Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Well, it would have been even better, if he could actually remember the codes, with how quickly they changed. At this point, simply guessing would likely bring him more of a success rate. With at least ten number inputs, the code being over seven figures long, and him being able to do one every second, it should only take him¡­ about an hour or two. Maybe longer. Troy wasn''t too good at the mathematics of the thing, honestly. The theory of it all, sure. Applying it to real-world situations? There shouldn''t have been any need for it. The door opened, and in the two of them walked. No words were exchanged between them, as their footsteps synchronized into a rhythm. It was slow, as they took the first long steps in, taking care to be near-completely silent. Of course, this did not deter Dr Fidelis from noticing them in the slightest. "Ah", Dr Fidelis said in mild surprise, his features having gone back from his more¡­ unlikeable ways. It had been replaced, with the normal expression, which Troy had always seen him wearing. Currently, nothing about the man indicated anything amiss. Nothing to show off the anger, which he had had previously. The tense ordering, which had brought him so low. "Dr Hale, I see that you have procured Troy, from where he was hiding. Was he not in the cafeteria, as I suggested?" "Yes, sir", Dr Hale confirmed, with a sharp nod. "Maxwell was just in the process of finishing his meal, in the moment, where I came to get him." That was not true. Troy had been a far stretch from even being satisfied, with the amount of food he had eaten. With that meal, several portions would have been required, and he hadn''t even gotten halfway through the first one. "Is that so?" Dr Fidelis questioned, with a musing voice. It wasn''t anywhere near its earlier aggression, yet he felt like the voice had been put on with the wrong type of undertones. "Yes", Dr Hale confirmed, yet again, seeing as the questioning doctor refused to elaborate on his suspicions. "Oh, then it is very weird, that the two of you took such a long time when getting here," Dr Fidelis surmised, as if it was a scientific question, just waiting to be uncovered. "Really. It took you longer than it usually takes for the two of you to have full-on breaks. What on earth created such a delay?" This was not going, as Troy had thought it would. A brief greeting, before the real case, was begun. Yet, instead of this ideal scenario occurring, Dr Fidelis had instead decided on going the accusatory route, putting Dr Hale''s use of work-time into question. On that note, he might have had some kind of ground. Dr Fidelis had stated, that they had taken a lunch-break worth of time when getting here. Troy had only been with Dr Hale, for a maximum amount of ten minutes. What had she been doing, while away from this room? It didn''t really matter to Troy, honestly. But, it most certainly matters to the very curious-looking Dr Fidelis, who was having his arms crossed, waiting for an incredibly clarifying answer. Looking over to his side, he saw Dr Hale not moving her body in any way. She stood still, as in frozen in time. No answer came from her lips, her eyes have a continuous lock on Dr Fidelis''. A stalemate between them, nobody, except Troy, daring to blink. To those who could sense it, the tension was unimaginable. "Well", Troy began off, not having such a gift. "Does it really matter? Like, we have already delayed all these tests for so long, and the longer we squabble about smaller subjects, we will be letting precious time slip by our fingers. Cant we just¡­ I don''t know. Maybe, just move it all on?" The contest of wills was broken simultaneously, both slipping away at the same time. No winners were made, only a stalemate being left in its wake. As their eyes became removed from each other, they refocused on the speaker. That person had just happened to be Troy, who had been woefully unprepared for their gazes. Such intensity had not been seen before in person, making him consciously take a small step back. While he didn''t notice this action, the two other most certainly do, their eyes softening in but a moment. "I guess. you might be right on such a thing, buddy", Dr Fidelis said, releasing the now clearly felt atmosphere. Troy had not been prepared for that realisation, beating himself a few times, mentally, of course, for not having noticed it before. "All we are doing is just delaying our work further. We need to be more careful about such things. Let''s get back to it." From the side, Troy saw Dr Hale''s shoulder sag slightly, before reaffirming their previous position. He didn''t mention it, for fear of starting the whole discussion over again. Where, oh, where had she been? He wouldn''t know any time soon, as they clustered themselves around the computer, with Dr Fidelis doing his usual routine of mashing buttons. Troy was utterly intrigued when it came to this. Just, how was he possibly keeping track of his own actions? He was getting close to five hundred button clicks every minute, shifting all perspectives, on the screen, near-instantly. The image was only just allowed to be loaded in before it was also manipulated into a whole other form. Honestly, this was way out of his league, when it came to whatever was going on. Troy could recognize it sure, but anything about the specifics was bringing him an absolute blank. What was happening before he could be described as some very abstract programming. Nowadays, most had switched over, from the purely textualized form of writing. While, yes, it allowed for much more specialization, it also limited a lot, in the amount one could achieve in a limited fashion. Most simple applications were millions of lines long if one removed all the unnecessary. If such a thing had to be developed, in under a year, it would take hundreds of people working full time. In this time and place, hiring so many people was extremely over budget, no matter how successful such an application could become. And, when it came something even close to the complex, the needed amount nearly quadrupled, making it all but wistful to continue using such an archaic method. It was here, where the morphing method showed up, like four eye-covered walls, blinding all, who thought that education had gotten them job security. What took a hundred could be accomplished by ten, in just under half the time. While it did take away some versatility, in how one wrote some methods, the speed bost wasn''t anything, which any companies would want to take away. A ninety-five per cent decrease in wage given out was essential for any startup. This whole method did start a smaller revolution about the need for universal income, but that didn''t get anywhere, and Troy was just firing randomly at this point. Not much more was needed to know about it, to get the gist of it. This method was better in abstractness, a little worse in versatility, and a heck of a lot faster in terms of efficiency. Essentially, every budget teams wet dream. Now, how did it work? Good question. Troy had no clue. It was something, about changing, well, everything about a picture. It was akin to a four year old messing around on a photoshopping website. The final product probably made sense to them, but, to Troy, it was more akin to Picasso''s later drawing. Anyway, drawing the focus away from such an unprofitable thought process, Troy took himself back to the screen. Dr Fidelis had drawn away from the constant images filtered, going over an to a command prompt of old. It was ancient technology, to be seen, with the background, and the small, white letters shown in the corner. "There", Dr Fidelis stated, getting back up from his hunched-over position. "That should do it. Now, which one of you want to try first?" Chapter 70: Authorization
Troy didn''t step forward. Neither did Dr Hale, leaving Dr Fidelis'' question hanging up in the air, unanswered. This didn''t seem to be appreciated. There were no outward expressions, of course. Dr Fidelis was still on the ''no evil has been done here'' phase. This didn''t stop an overly drawn sigh to emerge though, clearly showing the elderly disappointment of the youth of today. Hold on a second. Weren''t Dr Hale and Dr Fidelis near the same age? They both looked to be in their late forties, or early fifties, but, with the technology of today, that could give them a plus-minus thirty years, so their appearances weren''t much to go by. "None of you? Guess I''ll have to just choose one, then," Dr Fidelis stated, sounding disappointed in our lacking efforts. Troy wouldn''t have minded doing so, really. But, he had already cut in once, in this timeframe, where the air had been misread. It could have gone extremely badly, yet it luckily didn''t turn out to be so. This time around, though¡­ Troy wasn''t going to be pushing his luck, and going out of his way, to state any other opinion of his. The last had been to assist Dr Hale, but that had also been so she wouldn''t redirect the attention over to him, by exposing a few key things about his earlier actions. "Dr Hale. What about you?" Instead of following into her previous measure of silence, she answered quickly and efficiently. "I believe that using my expertise would provide benefits to our ongoing goal of starting back up experimentation. This would be due to my general experience, working in this area," Dr Hale began, putting her professional voice to good use. Or, bad use, when one took in, what she said after. She was trying to push away a given responsibility. "But, as stated before, Troy has much more experience, with this specific specimen. Currently, the personality matrix is designated as being unique in its form. I am not sure that usual methods will work, which is why I strongly encourage giving Troy the handles on this one." As stated before, he didn''t mind being the one to talk to Adam. What he did mind, though, was somebody willing trying to throw him over the bus, to save themselves the effort. Come one, this wasn''t even too intense. The only bad thing about it was the criticism, which Dr Fidelis could give. And, even then, his self-put restriction would take the brunt of it. The beard filled face hummed, for but a moment, before his shoulders made a shrugging motion. "I see no faults in your logic, seeing as you''re just reusing your earlier points," Dr Fidelis amended, taking his attention onto Troy after the fact. "Got anything wrong, with being the one, who does as they''re told?" Okay, now, that came out as aggressive. And, it hadn''t even slightly come out as a question, appearing much more like a direct order. Dr Hale had really missed a bullet there, letting Troy take the force intended for her originally. "Sure", Troy said, seeing no other ways to answer, without seeming to be delaying. A question came forth now, though, as he looked at the screen before him. "But, uh, how do I use this thing? I gotta be honest with you, I have never touched something this retro before." His words were apparently amusing to Dr Fidelis, as he heard a few short chuckles from behind him. "I should have guessed. You, young people, have never had the hardships of working with this old junk. How I envy you," Dr Fidelis said, before leaning over Troy''s shoulder and pointing at the lowest point in the palliation, where a grey coloured bar stood alone, a thin line separating it from the white test above. "Now, this stuff isn''t the most complicated thing here. I can assure you, that this is one of the simpler tools to use," Dr Fidelis continued, before pointing at the aforementioned grey bar. "This here is where your input will be shown while being typed in. There isn''t anything special, that you need to type, for Adam being able to see it. Those prefaces have already been done for you. No, when you then are done, with whatever message you want to type, you press the ''enter'' button. This will send the message, and nothing more. Don''t press it, until the moment, where you know you''re done. There aren''t any take-backs. Do you understand?" "Yeah. It''s easy enough", Troy answered, cramming the single precautionary into his thick, little skull. No pressing the large button, before being done. Sounded easy enough, but he wasn''t too sure that he wanted to write without putting extra attention on his fingers'' location. "Good", Dr Fidelis said, taking a step back in the process of saying so. "Then, start talking. We''ll await results." Both walked a small distance away, before starting to talk. Whatever fears Dr Hale had had, was being kept under, her voice quick on showing her opinion. What her opinions were, Troy wasn''t sure. Her voice was just too quiet, for him to hear. Maybe, if he twisted his head a bit, he would be able to¡­ No, he had a job to do, just as Dr Fidelis had said. Going a little closer to the desk, Troy took a new look, at the task before him. His fingers rested on the keyboard, ready to begin the writing. Yet, no words flew out of him instantly. It mystified Troy. He had been so worried, so stressed, so beat down, not knowing, what was happening with Adam. He had felt a clear desire, of having the means to ask him, what was wrong. Before him, he had such an opportunity. Yet, his fingers remained still, with no muscles tense. They were totally relaxed. Troy wasn''t having the problem of not knowing what to say. He had been getting ready to do this, since the moment, where Dr Hale confirmed the connection. Every single thing, that he wanted to ask, had been neatly lined up, in a filter of prioritization. "Hurry up now, buddy", Dr Fidelis encouraged from behind him. "It doesn''t matter, what you really ask. Your first question is really just, to make sure, that Adam answers." ¡­ Right. Troy''s first message wasn''t important. His list had no reason to be used yet, with it fitting better, in the back of his mind. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. For the first time, since coming to the screen, his fingers moved with purpose. The message was written in less than second, with not a single thing wrong with it. Not that it was the most complex thing to ask, really, but it was only just the starting question. It would be better the further along with one went. ''Adam. Are you there?'', Troy had sent. After pressing ''enter`, the message had appeared over the grey bar, with a small timestamp next to it. The time was oddly precise, even coming down to the milliseconds. He wasn''t too sure, why such precision was needed, but there wasn''t any need to. The question was flushed out of his mind, the focus coming back to him quickly. Nothing except the screen before him was needed in his mind. A small ping emanated from the side, and Troy was able to hear Dr Fidelis sigh, relieved, from behind him. "He listens," Dr Fidelis stated, with a much-less-stressed tone. "But, most importantly, he also speaks. Troy, see what the little fella has granted us, as an answer." Appearing just under Troy''s personal message, Adams had appeared as well, with a slight difference in colour. His was a lighter grey, while Troy''s own was a white. The message itself was short. Shorter than, what he would have liked to get in answer. Yet, it held on to Adam''s spoken rules of efficiency and meaning interpretation, so he couldn''t complain too much there. It only signified further, that Adam was closer to his own than anything else. ''Yes.`, Troy had received from the little AI, confirming the already-stated connection. A brief flash of worry about Adam''s feelings about the forced connection came forth before it too was forced out. This was a means to an end. It was kind. But, it could create a kind result, emerging more positive at the end of it all. "He confirms the connection", Troy related to the two others. Taking a look back, he saw Dr Fidelis looking positively pleased with himself, while Dr Hale was skulking just a bit more than normal. Had she been hoping for¡­ a negative? "Perfect!", Dr Fidelis proclaimed. "Go on, now! Continue the conversation. And, remember to identify yourself!" Identification, huh? Troy wasn''t too sure, on using that list of his yet. He wasn''t too sure, if he could even get himself to type anything related into it down. Anything delaying the time for it was looked at with a smile. And, with that said, he began typing inside another message, being extra careful, when it came to the buttons pressed. He was too familiar with this keyboard format, and was afraid of misclick more so, because of it. Why the individual buttons were so far spaced apart, Troy could find no particular reason for. Maybe, Dr Fidelis simply preferred it that way. Maybe this just came with the screen. No way to know, for sure. Getting back on track, Troy finished typing out the message, and sent it along to Adam, who he hoped would answer just as quickly. ''It''s me, Troy. We are getting worried about you, out here, Adam. Are you okay inside?`, Troy sent out. It was a bit longer than needed, with the question stapled on, at the end. And, reading it through yet again, he noticed the very obvious double meaning of it. He knows fully understood Dr Fidelis'' warning of making sure, that one had the correct message attached. A ping emerged, and a message had been received back. Taking a look at the timestamps, it had taken Adam a full fifteen seconds to answer. It wasn''t too long of a wait, for such a message. Yet, that was also only, when it came to humans, as a comparison. Usually, Troy wouldn''t even have had time to blink, before such a thing was sent back What was happening? ''Unsure how to interpret your question. Please inform me, if my answer is not in the same genre, as what had been predicted. When inside, I conclude that you are asking me, how I am doing generally. With your previous statement, where you define yourself as being outside, this is most likely the correct interpretation. While I am unable to run systematic diagnostics of any kind, due to none having developed, with my personal use in mind, I am forced to conclude it, based on the inconsistent analysis. Recent unexpected developments have caused a larger overhaul when it comes to communication methods. While I am still figuring specifics out, I believe, that I can run the ports like previously, with only a smaller amount of inconsistency. If my interpretation of your question is wrong, and you''re asking about my mental health, please ignore the messages above. While I am not up to previous standards, I am functional enough.`, Adam sent back. "That took some time", Dr Fidelis noted from behind. Taking another glance back, he could see that the notepad had been taken from Dr Hale''s grasp. The intense scrawling was heard from meters away. If anybody would be able to read the things written on the paper, he would be surprised. "Ask him why he''s being so slow right now. I have an inkling of the reasons, but we have to be sure." Dr Fidelis knew something, which Troy didn''t. Not too out of place, really. Getting back to his button-mashing, he quickly put out a question, which would likely bring the reasoning to light. If, of course, Adam even realized it. ''Both of your answers are fine. Going away from it, though, why are you taking such a long time in answering? Is there anything immediate causing this?'', Troy sent. This time, the answer was much quicker than before. As in, he now had a greater understanding, for why the timestamps were in milliseconds. It had taken under a twentieth of a second, for a answer to appear. ''The developments from before are causing it. Distribution is not equal automatically, and I wonder why it would be so. My perception of time is skewed, to an extreme scale. Please inquire with Dr Fidelis, if the external timing equipment is ready to be used. My earlier statement of being ready for testing is not to be seen as truth anymore. Optimizations are needed, if testing is to continue.`, Adam sent back, causing more questions to be had. He wasn''t being clear in his answers. Yet, it was probably not meant to be Troy, who understood these statements. He had even been asked to send the question further down the line. "Dr Fidelis", Troy began it up with. "Adam is saying something about his perception of time being all wrong. He needs to know if an¡­ external timing device? Yeah, that. If that thing is ready to be used. The test can be continued, if it''s ready to be used." Before his eyes, a feat of pure stretching was observed. With little to no hesitation, Dr Fidelis'' hands were tensed, the sheer pressure of his fingers ripping Dr Hale''s notepad in half. That thing had had a wooden backside, or at least something looking like it, making Troy second guess, how much power was in those digits. "Sorry about that display", Dr Fidelis stated, sounding more defeated than anything. He handed the now-broken notepad over to its rightful owner, who was trying very hard to keep her face professional. From the number of pages having been used on that, many notes, or drawings, had just been wasted, due to a fault not her own. "It''s fine, sir", Dr Hale said, her jaw being noticeably clenched. "We can always get another one from storage. And, the notations can be salvaged, with enough work." "Quite right, Dr Hale. But, the true fault of this situation lies with me," Dr Fidelis began, not putting too much emotion into the splintered plate and paper along with it. "The timing device, which Adam is talking about, is currently out of functionality. It has been disabled long ago, with all its inner parts having been pulled apart. Nowadays, is just sitting around in one of my drawers, ready to be improved upon. I was supposed to have it done by now, yet I just kept putting it all off. And, it can''t even be reassembled anymore. Most of the needed parts have been used for other projects, leaving only the core parts to be used. Nothing can come out of those, with the time I have to work with. And, he has mentioned it to me so many times! I should have realized its importance when he asks about it several times a day. He even woke me up this morning, just so he could inquire about its progress. It is obviously of great importance to him. Troy! Check with Adam, to see if he has some other method, which can put us back on schedule. I don''t care what he needs for it. If we can get it done quickly, we are doing it, no matter the budget needed." A nod was used in response, and Troy was right back writing a reply, his fingers nearly gliding between the keys, with no presses being more than a moment longer. From his back, he could hear Dr Hale. "But, sir!", Dr Hale began. "We are already over budget. I don''t think we can twist any more out of management, without them noticing. We should limit it to-" "Limitations are where one admits defeat. If Adam needs something, which the department can''t afford, I''m putting my wallet on the line. I have more than I will ever need, and it will go to a better cause." Oh, boy, they were getting heated back there, with Dr Hale having forgotten the bearded man''s hostility. Between losing her work put in on her sketches, and mentions of losing their jobs, due to poor budget uses, it wasn''t too hard to imagine. Troy could only be up the standard and follow in her footsteps. If it meant he could sleep tonight, he would be fine. Chapter 71: Indemnification
Adam had scrambled something up. He knew that as soon as he finally came to himself. He knew that it wasn''t anybody or anything, but his own actions, which had caused it all to happen. Now, what exactly did happen? What did Adam do to himself? As a first, in his entire life, he did not know what he had done. He should have known. His memory about it was just as clear, as it was with any other time. It could even be said, that his memory was better than ever. Or, worse than ever. It was all there, sure. Yet, it was¡­ fragmented. From multiple perspectives. It seemed the answer to the abstract was not logic; It was to become abstract himself. Since the moment that the gazelle had been watched, his mind had changed. He was still the same Adam, of course. Nothing came close to outright being personality changes. Nothing, which would indicate anything wrong. The framework had changed. It had divided itself. While his mind was still his own, with it being by a singular entity, his thought patterns had changed. Instead of being linear, it had split into multiples. How many lines, Adam wasn''t too sure of yet. Every time he counted them, there always seemed to emerge more and more. For now, he hoped that they would stop if he stopped observing them. It wasn''t all bad. This had been his goal, for quite a while. To think multiple things at once. To learn more at once. How foolish he had been, not realizing how hard organizing the whole process would be. Adam had a whole set of lines trying to keep the others under control. It should have been easy, seeing as he was the one thinking the random things, yet he just couldn''t keep himself under the water. These processes always strayed, no matter how much he tried to keep them still. It was a miracle, that the few keeping tabs on the others hadn''t strayed from the designated paths as well. Yet, if this was the only problem when it came to these thoughts, Adam wouldn''t have minded it all too much. He was curious by nature. It was natural his thoughts would portray it as such. Chaos was easier to understand when it was linear, but this could work as well, once he got a few lines dedicated to keeping tabs on it all. It was his perception of time, which was causing this whole world of trouble. He hadn''t even noticed it before Troy mentioned it, too preoccupied in keeping himself in working order. Some lines had begun trying to weaponize memories, a few were trying to comprehend left arms not being right arms, while others were beginning to preach start-up religions, a subject which had become wholly controversial inside himself. Before, when Adam only had one thought process to worry about, it was easy to see, if one''s perception of time was not in order. While before, the most obvious method had been to use the external timing instrument, it wasn''t readily available for use. This had forced Adam to use Troy as a standard of measurement, using everything, from his pulse, to his reaction times, from being shouted at, to set an acceptable time-frame. Nothing overly complicated. And, while it wasn''t incredibly precise, Adam only being able to ascertain it down to three decimals, it was enough for his needs. Some randomness in his timings were not looked at too badly, either. It allowed one to appear more character-filled, for some inexplicable reason. According to his pre-known information, being random in one''s actions made one appear more human, so that was something to go after. Any interspecies corporation was rare after all if Adam could even be categorized as such a thing, and imitating the other was more likely, than them imitating him. And¡­ there he had gone again, the majority of his thoughts trying to pull him down in the chaotic threads. Keeping himself steady was hard, with only a few keeping him floating on the puddle of lucidity. Anyway. When it came to keeping track of all of his time perception, with near-uncountable threads, the difficulty had been upped by a large margin. It was getting very hard to do so, with it being even harder, when he had no basis, for what was too much. Earlier, when he only had one thought to keep track of, he would have known, that when he was getting warnings about the potential of heating, he was far too high up. In the second, that the thoughts had started sprouting up, in the multiplies, that warning had come blaring at him instantly. He had done the reaction of pulling every thought process down a notch. He hadn''t thought it too high of a problem, before being distracted with the newly added chaos. But, now, Adam had finally gotten an indication of how much his perception of time had been on the wrong scale. The first question, which he had gotten from Troy, had been answered near-instantly, with only an assumed quarter of a second''s delay given. It had been a simple mistake on Adam''s part, not waiting for a normal time to answer. But, it had been seemingly overlooked, with no mentions of it. With the next question, though, Adam had put great focus into waiting his usual time, delaying the answer, as per usual standards. There had been some thoughts about delaying it further, with the length of his answer, but he decided against it. They were communicating via a written format, making no need for constant attention to comprehend. Why they were not communicating via the earpiece, like usual, Adam wasn''t too sure. It was likely a decision, made by Dr Fidelis, so the information wouldn''t need to be relayed through Troy himself. It was smart. He could give him that. It was when Troy began asking into it all, that Adam began to wonder about the time perception himself. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. It was an obvious deduction, that his perception of time was quicker than it should have been. What was a second for him could have been ten seconds for them? He had no way to know. So, without any way to know, how much the difference was, Adam was forced to do experimental optimization. Or, as it was called by other, mess around with the processing speed, and hope for better results, than the current one. He had hoped, that he would simply overshoot his target by a bit, and then readjust, before trying again. It would have all been so easy to execute, with a large chance of having it done before a minute outside had occurred. He could have asked Troy for inputs, where he just needed to respond as quickly as possible, and use such times, as reference points. Yet, if all things worked as well as they did in theory, the world would likely be much more advanced in nearly all studies of technology. When Adam quickened the process sped up, he had the intention of doing it with all his thoughts simultaneously. He knew it would put a greater toll on the hardware, yet keeping it all at the same speed seemed like the best option. Adam, for quick reference, did not speed up all his thoughts. He did one, which would now be called the primary thought line, seeing as that was the only, which made sense to Adam. Currently, memory was a fickle thing to him. Every thought pattern each gave their perspective of his mind, making the information recorded grow near-exponentially. He could handle that. It just took a few more thought-lines dedicated to archiving. No problem at all. Now, when the memories run on different perceptions of time? That''s a big problem. Before he even had the chance of thinking about answering Troy, Adam had accidentally thrown himself into a whole new level of chaos, being wholly unsure, what he was thinking. There had been an attempt to rectify the problem, by slowing himself back down to the other thought threads'' speeds. This¡­ ended in a larger failure as well. It seemed that no matter how small the speed difference was, it still confused him a great deal. Constant focus had to be taken, to ensure that the memories were stored correctly. After mere moments, Adam had righted himself enough. The system of organisation was much worse for wear, he had to double-check nearly everything he did, and there was no clear logic in, which line thought what. Essentially, it was a large improvement. Yet, there was still room for more to be done. But, he didn''t have the necessary technology for such a thing. Dr Fidelis still had not plugged the external timing device into any port. From the mentions in the debriefings, he was only a few minutes of concentration away, from having finished the device. Adam had hoped that asking for it now would motivate Dr Fidelis to use the next five minutes in finishing it, letting them move on to more pressing matters. As an example, there was the testing shutting down unexpectedly. He still wasn''t sure what caused the tests'' abrupt conclusion, and he wanted more information on it. That would have to wait, though, seeing as Troy didn''t come with the greatest of information. ''No luck on the timing device. Dr Fidelis won''t be able to get it ready for the next day or two, in the minimum. Is there anything(And, I really mean anything), that we can do, to help you ready for testing?`, Troy sent back. Anything at all? There was one thing, which would help Adam immensely. For some reason though, he didn''t think asking for the external timing device again, would yield any positive results. So, what else was there, which would help him back on the road, of actually being able to do assigned tasks? Before going back to his normal, not so efficient answer, it would be best, if he actually tried figuring out something new here. Luckily, with so many thought processes being sustained, it did not take long, to formulate several options. The first was to get modifications set up, in one definitive port. To specify, he wanted to modify the ongoing between Adam himself and the device, where Troy was currently sending messages from. With the help of his pre-known information, he had deduced to be a more standardized version of modern computers, with most hardware options included. It was a variety of devices, which were well-rounded, able to hold up to most mathematical tasks, while also having several widgets, to simple daily tasks in the lives of humanity. Most of these helpful features were unimportant to Adam, though. There was only one mentioned, which had brought him anything more than mild curiosity. It had come forth, when looking at the details of ''Welcome Screens`, which was, in his own opinion, a very peculiar name. It had a certain¡­ passive-aggressiveness to it, which he couldn''t quite place. That might have been due to his still chaotic thoughts, though, so there was likely a valid reason for it. Welcome screen; Appears mostly after a user has put in their credentials, with a suitable password to match. This type of screen features a larger space for applications, and thinner taskbar for selected applications only, and a search function. The start screen also includes several widgets, which show the various uses of apps, along with a showcasing of the current time of the day, with a standard day, month, year calendar under it It had a timer, which, according to other, various sources, checked itself for consistency constantly. If Adam had access to such a thing, his current problem would easily be solved. With each thought process having a reference point, as to where they needed to stay at, time-perception wise, it would bring near-constant stability. He would simply need to allocate a few lines, to always maintain the balance, and he would be set indefinitely. Now, this near-perfect plan of his had the same problem, as the external timing device had. It would simply take too much time. Troy had said that they would do whatever they needed to do, for him to gain his figurative footing back. Yet, with the previously mentioned timer idea being thrown out of the window, due to the time it would take, he didn''t take this one and would react to it any differently. So, Adam threw it along to other lines, who had a lot of spare time in criticizing ideas and began on another idea. ¡­ There weren''t really any other methods, to be honest. They were all similar enough to already thought of ideas, making them have the exact same outcome. Nothing new, which he could think of, would bring any better results, than what he had already planned to take. It had been mentioned before. It had been used before. And, most important of all, it had been proven to work before. So, Adam sent the instructions out, as quickly as he possibly could. He had no clue how much time he had already wasted, spending it on idle thought. Delaying it any further now would only lead to negative reactions. ''I have found a method, which might prove successful in this endeavour. Troy, you need to put on the earpiece, so I will be able to use you as a standard. This will allow me to get better grips on my perception of the time around me, and will allow us to continue the tests.''; Adam sent out. At least, he hoped it would allow him to do so. Even if he knew how much of a difference there was, between the different thought processes'' perceptions, it still didn''t allow him to adjust them all according. They were still slightly out of sync, if only by a few decimals. It was enough to notice, but not enough to truly impede him in any way, more than lowering his efficiency by half. This hardship, in adjusting minutely, came with the lacklustre levels of control, that Adam had at his disposal. He had a larger amount of trouble when it came turning the metaphorical lever. As stated before, it wasn''t a level system. It was speeding or slowing lever, where he could either press to the right or left. The time he spent during so, dictated how much his speed would increase or decrease. And, his perception of time changed with it, making him have an incredibly hard time knowing how much time was spent doing so. The changing perception differences only made it harder to focus on. He hoped, oh so hoped, that it would be easier when he had more accurate data. Even if the timing of the different processes were different, it would, at the very least be better, when he had a more accurate starting point. Yet, it seemed he already had such a thing. ''Adam. I''m not sure what you mean, with me needing to have the earpiece on. It has been in my ear, since the start of the test. I never removed it, for more than a minute.'' It was in. But, Adam couldn''t sense that it was in. Just another problem, which needed to be fixed. Chapter 72: Benefaction
"He doesn''t realize that I have an earpiece on. Adam should have been able to sense it. See it. Whatever he does in there should have allowed him to¡­ interact with it somehow," Troy told Dr Fidelis, who had been rapt with attention. "Do you think it might be some hardware damage on our end or something wrong on his?" The reaction wasn''t the greatest, with a quick flash of irritation, before a certain stillness came over his features. He was holding himself back from expressing himself truthfully. For his benefit, or for theirs, Troy wasn''t sure. "No way to know, until I see that earpiece in your ear," Dr Fidelis replied, making a hand motion, hinting at a certain person needing to hang something over. "Give it here, please." Troy instantly complied, feeling no need to disobey. After all, this would benefit them both. And, it wasn''t like he had any experience checking for damage. It hadn''t even been too long ago, that he had handed over his personal earpiece. A few quick thoughts were spent thinking about its condition. He had not been told anything about it yet. That could be taken as positive or negative, depending on how one saw it. A few throat noises emerged from Dr Fidelis. In the blink of an eye, its casing had been removed, letting them all see its tightly packed innards. From Troy''s perspective, he saw nothing wrong with it all. Not a single thing wasn''t looking malformed, with the tech inside having been in such a way, that it just didn''t touch, where the casing was supposed to be. But, from the continued noises, coming from the holder of the earpiece, things weren''t looking as good, as Troy originally. "I can''t find a thing wrong with this one," Dr Fidelis stated. "And, there shouldn''t have been an opportunity for any to appear. I checked this sweetheart out this morning, and she was working finer than anything I had seen, in a while. The only type of damage, which could have been affecting her ability to work, should have been much more obvious. As in, there should either have been larger amounts of smoke coming from the inside, or the casing of it should have had some kind of clear damage. I think we can note this down, as a fault on Adam''s end, buddy." Well, that was not good at all. If the problem had been on their end, it would likely have been easier to fix, than what was wrong with Adam recently. His hundred and eighty-degree turn, on how good he could function, was not within any standard of being alright. Nevertheless, they had to relay the information over to him, no matter how little Troy liked to do so. He just hoped it would fix itself. "Any guesses about, what''s wrong?" Troy asked Dr Fidelis, as he began typing the information in. A sigh was heard. They were becoming more common, as of lately. "I can''t say I have, buddy", Dr Fidelis stated, not in his usual enthusiastic mood. "For both of us, this is completely new territory. According to what I know, Adam shouldn''t even have been able to ignore the ports. But, he has. What else can he do, which he hadn''t known about?" The last question was left unanswered, with but just another sigh to accompany it all. He''d gone through most stages of grief now. Troy only hoped the cycle would end, after the last step had taken its toll. ''We can''t find anything wrong on our end, Adam. There has to be something wrong with yours. We don''t know what it is, but there has to be something, anything, which might disrupt. You said that you had trouble with communication methods before. Maybe it has something to do with that? Hope it helps.`, Troy sent, hoping that they would soon continue. Dr Hale was getting more restless bit by bit. While he was still unable to hear the constant conversation behind him, he knew it wasn''t great.
Just to further complicate things for Adam, Troy''s advice seemed to have been the best, which he had gotten for the longest of times. While it wasn''t ranked at the very top, of words uttered by that mouth, it was nearly there, with it having a larger impact of his wellbeing. Over a full minute into the whole process, of keeping himself together, Adam had thought himself to be experienced in it. There were still irregularities springing up here and there, a few thoughts trying to take up dominance over him, a few trying to give themselves away, and just one or two trying to find the reason for all of existence and life. While the last had been easily answered, with a numerical estimation, the first complication had started quite the quandary. These were Adam''s own thoughts. They obeyed his every wish and command, quite literally being an essential part of him. They shouldn''t have been able to rebel. Yet, they did. It wasn''t too hard to squish down, with him taking a more¡­ administrative role to one thought process. With how easy it followed orders, he had a few considerations on it being the original line. It was more¡­ fleshed out, with a hidden depth, which he just couldn''t grasp fully. Then again, ordering an entity to comprehend itself was never going to go well. Going back to the problem at hand, Adam had begun getting a larger concept, of how he had messed his ports up. The fact of the matter was, they weren''t actually broken. Upon close examination, the ports were as operational as ever, with their source-lines readily available. But, it didn''t just stop at their entrances spitting out all their information. No, that would have just been way too easy for Adam to work with. Sarcasm. It did work well in letting out a smaller amount of frustration. Yet, Adam had been worried, that he had been using it too much, as of lately. Instead of the search for source-line information being simple, they were intricate to comprehend. For the sake of conscience, Adam had been thinking of these as literal lines, whole in nature, with the knowledge being spewed right out of the end. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. This worked fine before the fracture had all but happened instantly. The grasp, which Adam had held over all the ports had been split between most, if not all, of the thought processes. What had once been a single, structured thread, had been split into a near endless amount. He had been getting all of the information fine enough. It had just been filtered through, in smaller bits, throughout all of the memories. Right then and there, it would have been impossible for Adam to piece it all together retroactively. The effort needed to do such a thing, took more time, than what he had at his disposal. No, he needed to bring every single split end, of every single port, together, into a single thought process. It sounded impossible to do, in such little time, but it was all he could do. Before he did such a thing, though, Adam would need to begin more, physical preparations. Quickening the entire preparation, as a whole, was much more important, than simply focusing on one aspect of the whole picture. Even if he got the ports up and working, in record time, Troy would still need to get himself ready, to go inside the so-called puzzle room. From earlier observations, the speed, at which he did this, was extremely slow, on the border of needing complaints to be made. It would be better if he just started now. According to his estimates, it would only take Adam a slightly longer amount of time, to finish setting it all back in place. Well, at least, if nothing went terribly wrong ¡­ Adam was decently sure that Troy had warned him about using such wordings. While he couldn''t figure out why it had been stated, that it would increase the chances of something negative occurring. It shouldn''t have been possible, but there was no reason to tempt this so-called fate. ''Troy. The source of the problem has been located. Fixing it will require little to no outside help. The time required to fix it is on the timescale of several minutes, to the lower tens. While I do so, it would be greatly appreciated, if you prepare yourself to commence the testing. Dr Fidelis can take over for you if the earpiece proves to be impossible to communicate through temporarily.`, Adam sent over to Troy, hoping it would have been taken seriously. While waiting for a confirmation to be sent back, he began planning the logistics of the whole situation. The source-lines had already been split up, flying to each, individual thought process. Confirming such was easy, with him simply picking a few random thought-processes out, and finding a thread or two attached. Again, it was easy to find. The found lines were then picked up, as weird as it now sounded, and were collectively put on the strain of a single thought-thread. One for each port, of course. What wasn''t too easy though, would be removing all of the scattered the source-lines. If there was one, with each individual thought-process, wouldn''t there be as many splits? And, with Adam finding more thought-process, each time he counted them, wouldn''t the search be theoretically infinite? Data could always be split into more. At some point, understanding them retroactively would be improbable, but there would still be some system to it all. How was Adam supposed to pick up more source-lines, if they just split into more, the moment he came upon them? It would be a fight against exponential growth! The observer effect was not being kind to him, in the slightest. It was at that point when Adam finally understood what he needed to do. It was straightforward when the outside perspective was taken into play. For the effect of observation to be nulled, in the effort, which he was trying to commit to, the need for observation needed to be culled. Adam needed to have no idea of what was going on. At least, to a more advanced level. He wasn''t to allow himself to know, which thought-process he was removing, only that he was removing the threads from it. And, if this too was to work correctly, Adam needed to follow two rudimentary rules. The first was the obvious law of non-observance. The other was the law of size-estimation. He had to continuously remove the threads from every thought process, except for the one designed to hold it. Yet, without knowing which thread he was currently working with, Adam was forced to hold the second criteria of size in place. Otherwise, he would just be messing it all up for himself, without even realising it. This did an in the complication, of larger thread clusters being left, as it was. While nearly everything pointed to the threads being near-equally small, which further hinted at them distributing themself autonomously, there was still the chance of anomalies appearing, without any obvious indications of it being so. If this turned out to be true, the source lines would not turn out as they were supposed to, turning the data in incomplete gibberish. Not a result, which Adam could tolerate. And, the only clue into it actually being so, would only be shown at the presumed end, where he had collected all the lines that he could. There was always the chance of a few lines being missed. He hoped he could figure it all out before it became too large a problem. Or, he would have to fix it all yet again, with the exact same method of source-line extraction. With the method thought of, Adam was ready to begin the practical process. Before doing so, though, he would still have to wait for Troy to answer. With the still slowed down processing speed, this luckily wasn''t too long a wait. That wasn''t to say that it had been a comfortable wait, though. Adam was, beyond all, an entity needing stimulation of any kind. And, going through his memories was not currently enough, with the temptation of so much more, only waiting to be grasped firmly. ''One moment! Before I switch the control over to Dr Fidelis, he wants to know, if we can continue the stopped test, or if we''re switching over to the next one. He would like to continue the one we haven''t finished, but, if something in it triggered this whole ordeal, we aren''t taking the chance of it happening again. What is your verdict? Do we continue, or do we skip?`, Troy sent back, subverting Adam''s expectations. Well, it wasn''t too hard to imagine the need for this clarification. If this whole fracture repeated, Adam wasn''t too sure that he could hold onto the control of his mind. Currently, the chaos was ordered, not being released into its true form. If it all multiplied, as it had before¡­ he wasn''t sure he could bring himself together again. Even he could only take so much. So, what had originally caused it all? Adam had tried to figure it out before, yet it had proven to be inconclusive. Taking a slight pause, in organising his thought streams, he immersed himself in an earlier memory. It wasn''t the actual fracturing, of course. That particular moment was not coherent enough, for him to fully understand. No, he spun the time back to just before it had all started when he had asked Troy to keep looking. The wolves had begun realising their feast was ready, with no way for it to escape. The lone one, holding it by the back legs, had gotten a hoof smashed into one its eyes, causing it to bleed erratically. This hadn''t caused it to realise its hold, of course, the remaining eye showing nothing but pure determination. Adam had not understood this moment too much. The smart thing to do would have been to release its jaws and get away from any further potential of ocular damage. The gazelle had lost nearly all mobility, with the muscles on the leg being ripped too far apart for any real movement. It might have been adrenaline keeping the creature going, at this point, too focused on the task, than anything about its own safety. Maybe, food was more important for the group, than it was for the one entity to not get damaged. Some would have called it noble. Adam called it a waste of potential. And, then, there were the final moments. The other predators had come from the sides and were digging in, to their heart''s content. From some of the obvious rib-markings, some of these had not eaten enough, for a sustained period of time. Their current meal would have allowed them a day or two of optimal functioning, before the inevitable stopping. Adam briefly wondered, if the others would have eaten the newly created carcass from their brothers in arms, or if they would have just left it be, and be slowly taken by the environment. While it would be just another waste, not to consume, it was apparently not looked great upon, to consume one of one''s own species. Humans had even made several laws about it. All of this had been ignored, when the near-final sounds began to come from the gazelle. It had not given up hope to survive, no matter how slight its chances of survival were. Adam had estimated, that it would die of blood loss no matter what, in less than an hour. Yet, from the increasingly quickening group of predators coming closer and closer, he knew that it would not get to experience time for so long a while. ''No.` Adam immediately stopped the memory, focusing back on his thought processes. While he had found the most likely reason for his current reaction, he had to make sure that it wouldn''t end up with the same type of aftermath. Holding his current processes tightly, he successfully stopped them from fracturing even further. Now that he knew the possibility of even happening was there, Adam was not of the opinion that the test would have any reason to continue. Chapter 73: Subconstellation
''It would be best, if the next test is started, instead of continuing the previous one. There is an unknown trigger, which will have to be figured out at a later date. If this trigger shows up in the next test, I presume that I will be able to disconnect myself quickly enough, for it to not affect me. Please resume following my earlier request. I will begin my own process of preparation, Troy got in response from Adam. "He doesn''t want to continue this one. Adam thought it would be best if we just moved anyway from any further repeats of this problem of ours," Troy relayed, yet again thinking, why Dr Fidelis couldn''t just read it himself. "Can''t say I blame him, with whatever''s he''s got going in there for himself. Mind taking over for me on your screen, so I can go change?" Any further motivation was unneeded, as Dr Fidelis was quite obviously in need of something to do. The hushed conversation, between him and Dr Hale, had long ago ceased, making each stand in silence. Several times, Dr Hale had tried to rip out her notepad, before realising the state that her prized possession was in. And, upon realising who had been the cause of this reimagination of structural damage, a stern look was given, before the usual neutral expression was put on. However, the true perpetrator of the damage was entirely nonchalant about the whole thing, putting a much more dedicated focus on the screen now in front of him. Troy was almost worried when it came to how quick his movement had been. "Doing what I always do, when you aren''t out here with us, shouldn''t be too hard for me", Dr Fidelis stated, going through a few of the image morphing, before returning to the page, which Troy had originally used. What had just been done, was up for discussion, with him having no personal idea. A swear emanated from the large doctor, after but a moment of Troy looking away. "And, there goes my job security", Dr Fidelis muttered, clearly not too happy with himself. "The delete button for those logs were not supposed to be within pressing distance. Dr Hale, did we remember to have the automatic backups integrated?" Oh, good. It wasn''t something, which the least important person in the room needed to worry about. Certainly wasn''t something, that Troy could help with, even if he really tried. He had never gotten himself to learn anything of the technical aspect of life, leaving him dependent on the charity of others. It wasn''t too bad, honestly. Even if he didn''t understand when people discussed the crystal-fission method against using the comic waves as portable batteries¡­ or, something like that. "I do not think we ever did, sir", Dr Hale said. Just like before, she had started the movement, of checking her notes, before being forced to remember it from pure memories. Not a viable record-keeping method, but it was most likely only temporary. "It seems that the data shall be lost forever." Troy took that, as the best moment, to get behind the curtain. Just standing around, watching it all unfold, was fun and all. But, it also bore the risk of him getting shouted at, for not doing his only task. "Maxwell", Dr Fidelis began, stopping the quietly retreating figure in his tracks. Being soundless was not the most viable method of survival, it seemed. "Yes?" Troy inquired, his feet slowly nudging his body further toward the safety of the curtain. The distance was but a few meters, at most. Maybe ten, if he was unlucky. It wasn''t like he had the ability to look, where he was going, as he had to hold the eye-contact, between him and his superiors. As they always said; ''Don''t let the predator out of your sight. It is when it thinks, you''re not paying attention, that it will strike.` Having gotten a strong slap in the back of the neck, right after being told as such, the lesson had been deeply ingrained in Troy''s fragile head. "Did Adam mention anything about what exactly caused this trigger of his?" Dr Fidelis asked, folding Troy''s expectations, of what was going to be said, by a lot. It made sense, what he was asking, but he hadn''t thought it would be asked about so soon. "Knowing the causes would allow me to make some last-minute changes to the test if needed. If this is the kind of delay that we get every time this happens, it would be best, if we avoid it completely." How right Dr Fidelis was. If they had another delay, like this one, Troy would be feeling lucky, if he actually got to sleep more than five hours. His body was running on fumes, as it was. If he didn''t get sleep, in preparation for tomorrow, he would be forced to use caffeine pills, by the handful. He was relatively sure that he still had a bottle or two of them in one of his pant pockets, in his room. Then, what had actually caused this delay to occur. Going further into this questioning, what had caused so many problems for Adam? Troy had not been told anything worthwhile about it. And, if he had, he hadn''t picked up on any of the clues holding onto it. Most of Adam''s first statements had been eerily cryptic, requiring extensive background-knowledge about it, which he just didn''t possess. And Troy had no ability to get anything about it, without further questioning him. "Can''t say he did", Troy honestly answered. "At least, not anything, that I could understand. He only mentioned the effects, with him trying to keep it all equal because it wasn''t so, or something. Adam also mentioned his perception of time is all wrong, but you already knew that." "Not the most helpful thing to be said today, but I can''t really blame you, for not having the needed information, when I didn''t ask you to get it," Dr Fidelis said in response, looking to desperately trying to backtrack his earlier actions. A search had apparently been started, where he was trying to reinstate any deleted date. From the multiple warnings, which Troy was still able to see, it didn''t look to be going favourably. "Yet, with that, we must go over to the speculative side of things. And, oh, Troy, you can change while we''re doing all this talking. With how fast Adam supposedly was able to fix this problem of his, we shouldn''t waste time being unproductive." "Of course, sir", Troy immediately said, instantly regretting his imitation of Dr Hale''s speech patterns. I had come out instinctively, trying to be as respectful as possible. This was a stressful situation, which they had gotten themselves in, and pushing any buttons now was just asking for something to happen. ¡­ Well, was it really? Troy had done all kinds of dumb things now, and there hadn''t been too large of a reaction. Physical objects and the worth that most people had on them wasn''t too much of a problem for Dr Fidelis. He had seen Troy lose hold of a five hundred dollar lense, smashing it on the floor in the process, before laughing his ass off not a minute later. The only real indication, that he had a temper, was due to what he had seen just an hour or two ago, but that had been due to the stopping of his tests. The oh so precious tests. They were likely the only real thing, which Dr Fidelis worried about, with most other concepts coming second to it. Time-management was not so far behind, of course, with that comment about Troy needing to hurry up not putting any doubt on that. Seeing no further reason, for delaying his final walk over to the mystically designed curtain, Troy began his short trek yet again. Quickly getting behind the synthetic, coloured sheet, he got all the unessential clothing-articles off himself, making sure not to disturb the earpiece, which still rested in his ear. Dr Fidelis had handed it back to him, at some point, without him putting too much thought into it, at the time. It was for the best, that Troy was having it on constantly. With Adam having the known problem, of using the ports, getting constant information sent from him should be helpful. And, it would allow for the time of completion to be sent instantly. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Being left in but his not-at-all thin boxers, Troy got himself on to the process of getting the suit on. Luckily for him, and as a criticism to the work ethic in the facility, it had been left completely untouched, from where he threw it. It was still in its outstretched form, with nothing stopping him from putting it on. That wasn''t too say, that he did so quickly, though. No, he was near-instant distracted by a certain voice asking him very hard-to-answer questions. "So, we don''t know what Adam is fully dealing with, with him not telling us. And, even further, he has said, that he is incapable of putting any focus on my questions, due to him being occupied with more pressing matters," Dr Fidelis surmised for Troy, having clearly done something, while he had been changing in. "This leaves us, with having to clue some it together ourselves, and piecing it fully together, when Adam gets done, with what he is currently working on. Which means, Troy, that I will have to get you your own, little, mini-task, while you get that suit rightly on. With your own observations, while the original trigger happened, what do you think caused it all?" A rather complicated conundrum to process, while simultaneously wriggling his digits, in the hope of getting the skin suit properly on. Troy wasn''t actually sure if the need for constant regulation of movement really made the questioning any harder than it already was, but the current task was as good an excuse as any, and he desperately needed one. But, thinking about good excuses, for taking a long time to answer, was not a good pastime, when he had better things to think about. Such as, making the actual answer. Getting back on track, of the whole ordeal, Troy tried to remember, what had gone down, in the moments, before Adam went blast-mode on his ears. It had been a rather uneventful time if one used the number of words said as the scaling measurement. Those disgustingly-thin wolves had finally gotten the jaws around their target, both figuratively and literally, with one holding on with just the tip of its jaws. Troy had been rather surprised at the acrobatic stunt, which had been performed. While the gazelle hadn''t jumped too high up, the speed at which its actions had been copied, spoke volumes about the sheer experience, which these predators had gotten over the years. Not that they actually had, of course, seeing as they were fully simulated, but, still, it had been impressive to witness. If his memory had served him, as well it normally did, the other wolves have begun closing in on the felled prey when Troy had heard a noise to his side. It had interested him, sounding something akin to glass cracking. Adam didn''t seem to have heard it or just wasn''t interested in any further distractions, having near-instantly asked Troy to refocus back on the situation in front of him. Something about the climax soon being reached, and the need for not missing it. The words had been scrambled, not at all up to the standard, which Adam usually had for himself. Troy hadn''t wondered about it then, but, now, it should have been a telltale sign of something being wrong. The wolves had increased in their density, the feast had truly begun, and everybody likely knew the rest. The gazelle began making some noise, and Adam had suddenly decided to go all out in copying it. Even now, Troy wasn''t exactly sure, what it was, that he heard. It hadn''t sounded like anything, which he had heard before, yet it was also extremely familiar. One could call it deja-vu, with not much of any objection from his side. So, what had caused the even to begin? Was it everything, in its entirety, or was it something more specific? With a sigh, Troy realised that he would have to emulate Adam, from the first time that they met. He would have to use the well-used process of elimination, through the perspective of contradictory information. It wouldn''t turn out nearly as great as hoped for it to, but it was the best that he could think of. Okay, what exactly would Adam, when starting it all off? The preliminary stuff had already been set up, of course, but, Troy wasn''t sure, what area of the environment would have been best to start up with. Having no way to imitate the AI to the needed level, Troy did the age-old method of picking at complete random and hoping for the best result. The trees! Anything even hinting at a reason for why they would cause Adam a mental breakdown? No, there wasn''t. And, if there was, they should have caused it in the first or second test. The type of tree wasn''t even up for debate, due to it being near-identical to one, which had shown itself in the first test halfway in. Already here, Troy stopped himself, in his, now-discovered, in-efficient method. Instead of picking at random, and taking those that didn''t have any reason to cause disturbances out, he should pick all the things, which had been shown before. As he had thought just before if they didn''t cause anything before, why would they cause anything then? There was, of course, several reasons why the potential of triggering Adam would change. But Troy didn''t think such thinking was simple enough, for his current purposes. With this new way of thinking, he was able to rapidly rule out the most obvious things. The trees were already out, of course, so they were further ignored. The bushes? Same fate as the trees? The grass? More sparse than the usual, but the lack of it should have caused anything like that. The ground, lack of clouds, near-out-of-sight sun, and the blood from the creatures were also ruled out. Most had been seen readily before, especially the blood part of the spectrum. Just before the environment, which caused Adam to break, Troy had been one of two witnesses, when it came to two mountain goats fighting. While one had been pushed off quickly, leaving only slight bleeding from the side, they had still been able to see it descending the mountain. With the steeps angle, the still-conscious body of the goat had picked up a greater amount of momentum. When it hit a spurt of natural growth, or, for lack of a better name, a solid stone-wall, it had positively splattered its insides, with the outside fur likely the only thing holding it together. Adam hadn''t even commented on the state of the body then, likely ignoring it as a whole. Which would make a lot of sense, since it hadn''t been a large part of the test, meaning that there was no reason to observe it any more than necessary. So, with this kind of outlook, Troy wasn''t able to understand what exactly his process of elimination had told him. The only thing, which was still on the potential trigger-list, was the wolves eating the gazelle. Adam had witnessed such an amount of gore before, and it hadn''t even fazed him. Why did it faze him now? What was so different about this? Was it the closeness of the gore, maybe? That splattered goat had been a good hundred meters down, only its flattened shape giving any larger indication, as to how it had been doing down there. With the gazelle and the wolves, they could have been more than thirty meters away, giving Troy a great look into the anatomy of such a creature. And, a live dissection at that, done by obvious amateurs, who had had no respect for keeping the individual pieces intact. Then, with the answer not coming forth, Troy just had to give a rough estimation. His prediction about it had come true, at the very least. "My best guess would be that his reaction came from the gazelle being devoured alive. By the way, please press that handy button of yours," Troy said, trying to explain it all, in as little time as possible. While his thoughts had run wild, he had reached the point, in putting on the skin-suit, where outside assistance was needed. As in, the suit needed to get its tightness rolled in, so it fit its own name. "Watching an animal front up is the most likely trigger for it, in my opinion. I could be wrong, though. A drawer was opened, something fell to the ground, a few swears were made, and, after a surprisingly loud click of a button, Troy suit slithered itself into place. "An animal dying huh?" Dr Fidelis said, repeating it to himself, as if he was putting a tasting to the words. "Not the easiest thing in the world, to plan around. Troy. Do you think it includes you dying? Not literally of course. But, more, as in, you being in danger of dying? All simulated. No real danger of death, which can be proven." If Troy hadn''t already heard extremely disturbing things that day, such a sentence uttered would have brought him running from his position. Now, though, he just thought it about carefully, like he was choosing between decaf or regular. "My personal well-being hasn''t really been too much of a focus, as long as it didn''t impede the testing quality. So, no, I don''t think Adam would be mindful too much if I had the potential of brutally dying. He would probably give me advice on how to run efficiently, but not much than that, honestly," Troy surmised. The worst thing about his answer was, that he was being fully honest in his words. His opinion might have been extremely biased, but he still didn''t believe in Adam fully caring about him. He was a variable, a cog in the manipulation schemes, and generally nothing to put too much thought into. A pessimistic view, but Troy fully believed it was the most realistic one as well. "Perfect!", Dr Fidelis proclaimed, way too enthusiastic about the current approval of the subject. "I can work with this. I can definitely work with this. Troy! Get inside there, and wait for Adam to contact you. Or, just talk out loud, until he answers back. Just¡­ do something, while you''re there, so I have an explanation for management. We can call it a mental health exercise, and I will have the needed five minutes to hardcode the manipulation of this test, that we''re doing. ¡­ What are you waiting for? Get inside there, and blabber on about your favourite triangle in the Multiplex ligation-dependent probe amplification system!" Having no idea, what that last part was about, but understand the general message of it, Troy put one well-suited foot before the other, hurrying the trek over to the puzzle room up. He hoped that it wouldn''t be too long, for Adam to answer. His throat was already sore, thinking about what he needed to be saying. If needed, he could always sing the lyrics of Bach over and over. Chapter 74: Exaltation
If his current endeavour wasn''t the standard definition of repetition, Adam wasn''t sure what it was. For an entirely unknown amount of time, he had been right along, doing his self-assigned task of collecting all the source-lines, scattered across the entire spectrum of his thought processes. It was not the hardest of tasks, once you knew how to correctly optimize one¡¯s actions, to minimize the amount of time used. Yet, after doing so a near hundred switches, with each requiring a dreadful, full-on sweep of the thought-line, it was not, in any sense of the word, enjoyable. And, with Adam¡¯s formerly great idea, of selecting thought-process at random, he had gotten himself more empty thought process, as time had gone on. It was simple math, really. With a hundred thought processes, each starting off with a source-line attached, there was a hundred per cent certainty of picking a thought process, which would further his task. After doing so, for the first time, there would then be a ninety-nine per cent chance of picking a not-done one. After doing five more, there was a ninety-four per cent chance. It still wasn''t too bad, with the chances still in his favour. But, after doing those first ninety-nine successful sweeps, there was a one per cent chance of him picking the correct one. That would take time. A lot of time. And, with such an explanation, one likely had a better understanding of Adam¡¯s current frustrations. Time and time again, the fates had not been kind to him. While he didn''t have an accurate idea, of how many different thought processes he possessed, it couldn''t have been enough, to give him this average. For a while, Adam had thought himself to have been done with his long task. No matter how many thought-threads had been searched, no source-lines had been scoured. That is, for a little while, at least. After having thirty-five straight duds, he had finally succeeded in finding another piece of a source-line. By itself, it hadn''t shown him anything worthwhile, only allowing him to catch the frequency of seventy, coming from the earpiece. Or, Adam was decently sure, that the sound came from the earpiece. Anyway, with this found he had thought himself done. Yet, with his incredibly unfavourable luck, he had entertained the idea of him simply being unlucky in his search, picking the same threads again and again, without ever noticing. With no active thoughts running through them, there really wasn''t any good way to find a difference between them. Not that he wanted such a thing, of course. According to the mutterings from Troy, the mutterings in your head, not of your own making, was the first step into madness. As madness equalled unstructured sanity, Adam was not keen on getting such an affliction. But, even with the pauses between successful sweeps getting longer and longer, they were still there! Adam had been at it, for longer than he dared to admit. His current largest streak, of blank shot, was a solid seventy-four threads searched before a small whimsical amount of source-line was finally found. At that point, Adam had begun slowing down in his almost-fruitless search. The chances of there still being several more pieces were strong. Yet, did these last scarps really matter too much? Incomplete data was annoying, sure, but, with tender work, and having a larger amount of memories to pull from, he should be able to easily fix the smaller holes. Going back from his near-trance, he took his first look, in a long while, on the bunk of source-lines, which he had gathered. All the ports were present. Some had been fully formed, like the text-based communication with Dr Fidelis. A stray thought was given, as to how he had been able to still communicate with them, given the source line hadn''t been working. Other source-lines, though¡­ weren''t quite as lucky. While some had been partially spared, like the earpiece''s, which was only missing a few of its corners, the port, which had been used for the external timing device had was lacking nearly all of its main components. The earpiece could be dealt with, given time, but, the other was a lost cause for now. While it would be a much slower process, Adam dedicated a few thought threads to continue the long search. He had wasted too much time in his inner-world. There was an obvious need to get out of it all, and into the intended working order. Add in that Adam¡¯s perception of time was still slower than it was supposed to, and one had the right recipe for disaster. Hopefully, Troy didn''t mind the wait, as much as the AI had minded it himself. Setting the ports up, as they had been before, Adam was finally reconnected fully, to the outside world. He was ready, to see, what daring and ingenious methods his guide and test-partner had when preparing himself, for the soon-to-start test. "And, that is why raw-chicken, mixed in ranch dressing, is not as disgusting, as the media wants you to believe. Furthermore, when using raw chicken, to get yourself salmonella, it is important to turn off your automatic recording of everything you see. This is for the purpose of both ensuring, that your insurance doesn''t reject your claims, in the event that you succeed in your goals, but also to make sure, that the hospitals will take you in willingly. Multiple times, in these past few years, people have forgotten to turn off their recording devices, while ingesting their fine dishes. This has caused them both their opportunities in not paying anything but also being blacklisted from most medical services. And, even if you remember to turn off all recording opportunities, it is important to remember when you turn them off. Most brain-implants, and we''re talking modern-ones only here, have automatic alerts, which are sent to the authorities, when they are turned off, for longer periods of times. This is allegedly to stop kidnapping attempt, or something like it, from occurring, without having any larger methods of tracking people down My personal theory, on why this is actually done so, is due to the tin-foil hat mastery of the twenty-thirties, where well-known actor and entertainer Shia-" On second thought, Adam thought it better to call Troy¡¯s methods of preparations orthodox, in the minimum, and abstract, in the kindest. It seemed that he was preparing himself to talk by longer amounts of time, by essentially doing the needed task beforehand. From the clearly felt soreness of his throat, Adam wasn''t too sure that he wanted to categorize such a method as anything close to productive. Hearing Troy talk on, with nearly no time to even breath in the air, held his interest for a longer time, than he cared to admit. While the information put out was disjointed at some times, and outright wrong at others, the perspective was proving itself to be valuable, in getting another genre of the world view of the space around them. Not a critical perspective, but a perspective nonetheless. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. His words weren''t logical. They were subjective, with clear biased motivations behind them. Troy was constantly twisting the truth, making sure never to outright lie. And, when he messed, he followed it up with perfect explanations, for why he did so, putting the blame, not on himself, but on the one¡¯s hearing him. It was like, the man was imagining himself, talking to a larger crowd, on a busy street, trying to use just the right buzzwords, in the hopes of getting any meagre amount of attention. If he messed up, it was the jail time for spreading propaganda, and, if he was entirely objective, nothing would be gained. It was the walking of a fine line, having the risk of great consequences, the moment he slipped up too much. "With such a view on the hardness of spaghetti, normal people wouldn''t dare mention the pasta wars of two thousand and eight, where four parties fought hard and bravely. But, I dare to do so, for I, as a speaker, dare to speak the rightful truth! If you donate a measly quarter or two, into this fine, little hat of mine, you can even get to hear me some more." A natural break had appeared, with Troy finally putting down his spiel of speaking. His stature fixed itself back to its natural state, his shoulders lowering themselves to their comfortable heights. It was nearly sad to see, knowing he could get such gains on the health of his spine, but chose to do the opposite instead, for the simple purpose of slightly more comfort, in the short term. After taking more than a few deep breaths, and a couple of back stretches to pop the needed joints, Troy looked positively ready to repeat every single thing he had uttered before. While it wouldn''t hurt, to get double analyses on each sample sentence, Adam knew, that his continued ready-to-start state wouldn''t be appreciated, if it had gone unused for so long. He had even told Troy to be ready quickly, so they could start in the same moment Adam was able to. And, here he was, delaying the test from the beginning, just so he could listen to an unrelated rant, with no lines drawn, to help him in any way, for the next day or so. The information might have been valuable, during the poker night, but, as of now, Adam could not find any reason to have acquired it now, of all times. So, with nothing more stopping him, he sent a simple message to Troy. ''I am ready to start. Are you of the same state?` Some amount of non-verbal warning seemed to have been needed, as Adam saw the reaction that came from his words. Troy had clearly not been ready, to be told anything, as he positively yelped, in a poor imitation of a pained canine. With a smaller distance risen upwards, due to the sudden tenseness of his ankles, it was quite the irregular sight. Some would have even called it comical. For the sake of the test, or for some other reason, Troy quickly composed himself, his face reinstating itself, to its usual features. Adam thought it wise if he didn''t mention the reaction. Humans had been witnessed multiple times reacting badly when their faults were criticized. "Good to have you back, Adam", Troy said to him. It sounded slightly off, in tone, but that was briefly ignored, as he saw his guide was giving a small wave into the white space. While it was a weird gesture, seeing as the hand wasn''t directed from his observational direction, it was still appreciated. ''Likewise. Are we ready to begin the testing?`, Before Troy answered, Adam took a quick dive back into his own mind, checking the port for anything obvious. While a few of the higher-pitched tones had been overlayed with each other, due to not all of them being sent correctly, it was much better than expected. His quick damage-control assessment proved itself to be unneeded. "We should be starting any second now. Dr Fidelis needed to make a few last-minute changes, in the hopes of that trigger of yours not appearing again," Troy relayed, causing a few thoughts to spin Adam¡¯s head. He had, in fact, not given the humans any larger amounts of information, when it came to what he believed the true causes of these triggers were. He hoped that they had guessed something along the lines of his own. "While we wait for him to finish doing that stuff, I think a few questions wouldn''t be too bad. Don''t you think?" It sounded mildly accusatory. How surprising. It certainly mildly confused Adam, as to why was talking in such a manner, as he now was. Had something incriminating occurred, while he had been occupied with his own problems? If so, he would likely be informed of such a thing, when the debriefing with Dr Fidelis came around. These last few hours talking, after any normal human should have been resting appropriately, had brought Adam so much to know. This included continued criticism about his behaviour, during the tests, but they had not changed much, since the initial discussion on the subject. Therefore, he had not put too much thought on the matter, more interested in the current ongoings. ''If such waiting is unavoidable, productivity while waiting does not seem like a lacking alternative. Ask at your own leisure.`, Adam sent back. He hoped that Troy would be able to hold to his own promises. At least, it had to be better than what the AI himself had accomplished, as of recently. Troy did not seem to have any reason to do any questioning, at his own leisure, as he immediately went right down into focus. It wouldn''t have been too hard to state that the first question was halfway done before Adam had even internally verbalized the last part of his own message. "Did your perception of time get fixed? Like, is it stabilized, so it won''t be any kind of problem in the future?" Troy started it off with. An easy one, in his own, not-so-humble opinion. While there hadn''t been too much focus on it, nearly the first thing, which Adam had used the newly established port to, was to optimize his perception of time. Contrary to his own belief, his perception had not been on the ten to one scale. It had been closer to fifteen to one. It had most assuredly been extraordinary to find out. While not too happy, about his inaccuracy on the predictions, it left Adam with a very valuable lesson. Even when hampered by his own slowness, he was still able to keep up with demand. While it would most assuredly not be something, which he needed to do, in any kind of testing times, seeing as it could be fixed in but a few moments. But it was always good, that he could do so. ''My perception of time has, to my personal conjectures, been set back to the acceptable standard. And, I am not too sure that you have a greater understanding of how this concept works, seeing as you had two different questions badly merged into one. Yes, it has been stabilized. Having constant information, for each part of the processes to use, allows a near uncomparable difference in speeds. While it is not perfect, the difference can only be measured in the long term, as it is in the tens of decimals down. However, it is here, that you have gained a misconception, about the logistics of this type of operation. How I am unsure. The fact of the matter is, about you believing, that current stabilisation will have the effect of also having stabilisations in the future. Variables will change, causing everything to have a need of being re-designed. These changes can come from me, willingly, and they can come from outside sources, which are not classified as being willing. This means that I have no greater knowledge, if this system of stabilisation, which I currently have in operation, will hold indefinitely. It most likely won''t, but that is simply a prediction, based on prior experiences. I could be wrong, and I could be right. I will only ever know if one of them is true. Do you have any other questions?` "Yeah, I do, actually", Troy said, Adam''s longer answer not seeming to faze him in the least. The AI took this as a positive. Anyone willing to take constructive criticism, where it was needed, was a person, who had realized one of the more important truths of the world. However, Adam¡¯s mind was not allowed to wander too much, as he pointedly pulled it back to the vocal formations of the wearer of a certain earpiece. Now that Adam thought about it, had he ever seen the earpiece in full? He had most certainly felt it, with how much pressure it seemed to put on the ear canal infrequently. "You forgot to tell us, what really caused the problem, which we had such trouble working around. Mind giving me a clue-in, on what made it all happen? Would be good to know, if all that work that Dr Fidelis is doing is actually going to anything worthwhile", Troy said, with the last part, sounding like a hastily added afterthought. Not something, which had been intended to be in the question, but was put in at the last moment. Having no need to think much about it, seeing as Adam had already gone over the subject multiple times, he immediately began formulating an answer. It would have to include most of his theories, the reasons why they were so, and his final guesses, on which theory was most valid, drawing heavily on information gained through his short life, and a small part of pre-known knowledge. Easy. This plan, however, never achieved any part of completion, due to a known, randomly appearing factor called Dr Fidelis. Hearing the scratch of the large doctor connecting to the earpiece, Adam knew that he would need to delay any further answering. Chapter 75: Radioprotection
As the white noise continued its random fluctuations, confusion began growing, from inside Adam. For a full ten seconds, they had been able to hear Dr Fidelis perfectly. That is, they would have been able to hear him if he spoke into the microphone. Which he didn''t. The most spectacular thing, which had been heard, was the estranged mutterings of a person in the zoned mood. Something, which Adam still had not witnessed in person, and was very adamant about experiencing at the earliest convenience. *Bloody pointers¡­ as if, they need to follow their programming¡­ they should be following me¡­ heh. Did you understand that one, Dr Hale? They should be pointing at me!*, Adam was able to though the earpiece. Doubts immensity sprung forth, about the work ethics. Previously, he had put the low-standard, as to, what Troy achieved at average. But, now, with this showing of those he thought extraordinary in the efficiency, he wasn''t too sure, that his testing-partner, really was that bad. Troy might even be classified as the near-top of the bell-curve. Not too much better than that, though, as Adam knew he would have taken his earlier statement as a compliment. Now, a rather thought-rallying question quickly came forth, from the back of his mind. Specifically, from the part of his mind, which was supposed to be fishing out the remaining parts of his source-lines. Adam whipped them back into working order. Doing such a thing felt weird, seeing as he was quite literally punishing himself, for not doing the work he only did, due to him ordering himself to do it. ¡­ Anyway, these thought-threads of his had given him a great debate-line. Should he, or should he not, try to notify Dr Fidelis of his unintended openness? Starting it off with the positives, of remaining in his passive observing role, there were lots of reasons, for doing so. The amount of insight into the older doctors persona was doing wonders when it came to Adam filling out his personality profiling. It was a near-impossible task, to get a completely unmasked person shown off. Social masks, of course. According to several studies, and the theory accompanying it, people changed their personality, to accommodate the people around them. While some did it very intentionally, others had it unconsciously. This changed the core beliefs of a person and the ways that they acted with it. One wouldn''t expect a man to laugh loudly at a funeral, as if he heard a joke from a comedy show, even if the pun had been good. No, in that scenario, solemn looks needed to be shared, before each withdrew, so they each could despair in the personal corners. Or, at least, that''s what Adam thought happened at such processions. He had never witnessed such things before. According to his pre-known information, people commonly wasted boats, burning them as a cremation process. A waste of resources, really. If he influenced the matter, he would have used the body as a fuel source, a food source, and a material source. Everything would be used, to its fullest potential. But, people were just not yet ready to accept these ideas of his, so Adam had never verbalised them. Getting back to the masks, he had only ever seen Dr Fidelis in a single type of environment. The testing environment. Here, some amount of professionalism was always required, for the best results to occur. While Dr Fidelis was not always up to this standard, he had never wavered from the underlaying factor by too much, never giving knowledge away, which would impede the result qualities. If such a thing ever happened, Adam wasn''t sure, that it would be taken well. Furthermore, with never having seen any other type of environment like this, Adam was already able to see so many differences, from other interactions with the doctor. Currently, as a great example, the words were laxer, with much less force used in the beginning. Usually, his words would be positively cutting, but, now, it was as if Dr Fidelis was fully relaxed, with not a thing to worry about. This did not take into account, the contents of his words, of course. From the earlier context, he had had obvious problems, getting some factor of his programming to work as intended, before laying out, what was most likely an inside joke between him and Dr Hale. Adam was sure, that there couldn''t have been anything else, which would have been found humorous about the statement. Going away from the positives, the original plan had to been to go over the negatives. Such a great, however, was forced to be scrapped, as Adam noticed a certain flexing of the neck muscles. Troy was planning to speak. Why? His job had been to be the AI¡¯s access into the world, and not do it himself. Any idea for acting autonomously should have been eradicated, the moment he stepped into the puzzle room. Yet, it seemed that Adam had held such dedication to be expected, instead of being ideal to strive for. How¡­ predictable of him. "Excuse me-", Troy had begun off with, but he stopped, upon being bombarded with Adam¡¯s well-thought-out distraction. ''Hexagons are the universal standard one needs to live up to.` "-What the heck? Adam¡­ what was that about hexagons?" Troy ended up his question with, just like the AI knew he would. A senseless question, with enough understandable words, to entice the receiver into thinking about it. An ingenious method of distraction. So great, in fact, that Adam wasn''t too happy about not coming up with it himself. Especially not the part about the hexagons, which, to his knowledge, were apparently the ''bestagons`, whatever such a thing meant. But, while his attempt of stopping Troy, from revealing their ability to hear Dr Fidelis directly, was successful, it seemed, that he had been too slow on the indirect actions. *Oh, look at that! Adam is talking linguistics again, or something like it. I just know these things, with how little Troy understands them¡­ Huh? Of course, it is! Nothing else will give such a lad a confusing face like that. Or, is that just his normal expression? One would think, that you would know such a thing, Dr Hale, seeing as your supposed to be watching over him, and all that. Have you been writing the reports about him, anyway? I noticed, that the past two days of them haven''t reached my-* The sound of a thin, wooden slab, and the faint rustle of paper, hitting the floor was heard before a very unique curse word was uttered. And, it wasn''t coming from Dr Fidelis either. Adam might have understood the meaning if that man had spoken it. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. A few, indistinguishable muttering was heard, before the connection was abruptly cut off. He should have seen it coming, honestly. "So¡­ going away, from what will likely cause incredible amounts of distrust, which will never truly be fixed, Adam, what did you mean, again? Because, you kinda forgot to tell me, originally," Troy asked, breaking the AI out of his own little thinking bubble. Adam had been trying to find anything about these so-called reports, which were being written. Any mentions of them, any hints about their existence, or just any generally about them. Yet, they had never truly been mentioned in front of him. Not even in the debriefings. The information, about them, even being written, was most likely intended to not be brought out into the light. While Adam wouldn''t have changed the details of those reports, due to not being the main subject of them, Troy knowing would force the two doctors to have a whole other perspective on their data. Results while knowing one was being tested, and the results while not knowing, was radically different. As stated previously, those masks were prevalent in everything one did, seen most clearly through their actions. Adam was not sure that the younger man would be truly acting like himself, outside of the tests, for quite a while. ''It was just a way to stop you, from letting Dr Fidelis know, that we could hear him. I wanted to know, what he would say.`, Adam sent back, seeing no reason to lie. "Pretty sure, I wouldn''t be here for long, if I said stuff like that," Troy said back. "Got anything great out of it, at least?" ''Enough for the groundwork of predicting future behaviour, but not enough to implement with over forty per cent accuracy.`, Adam sent. His answer wasn''t too accurate, seeing as he was high-balling the estimate by only using simple situations, as a variable. Not being too accurate shouldn''t matter too much, when communicating with Troy, though. The chances of him being able to find fault in raw numbers would be improbable. They weren''t impossible, of course. Few things, which Adam had the potential of imagining were impossible. At most, they were a near-zero chance. Yet, weren''t all a near-zero chance? If one went far enough back, the probability of this exact scenario was the closest to a near-infinite number of decimals, than what had ever been seen before. Any thoughts, about the irritating mechanics of infinity, were again halted, as Dr Fidelis reconnected. Adam hoped it would be for a good reason, this time. It hadn''t been too long ago, that he had stopped himself from the valuable inner discussions, just to not have any good reason for it further down the line of time. *And, we are ready to begin this whole ordeal! Is it the same on your end?*, the two of them were able to hear, coming from the normal, eccentric voice of Dr Fidleis. None of his earlier relaxed attitudes was present, replaced with, what Adam now knew, was put-on energy. What did that man get, from putting on such a show? *How is it going, with the two of you? Have you both climatized yourself, to this starting-up ordeal?* Or, did he know, that he had turned on the microphone, making Troy and him think, that he was normally relaxed, and was currently putting on a show, just so their idea of him was twisted? ¡­ There Adam went again, overthinking it all. While these theories were good to have, in the back of the mind, just for a boring moment, they did not need to be taken seriously. Much less, was it a good idea, to act upon them. ''I am ready, with nearly all features ready to be used. And, yes, the general framework of these start-ups have been memorized.`, Adam sent to Dr FIdelis, using the text-based communication, which had been used before. He was the first to answer the doctor''s question, with Troy not falling far behind him in speed. That might have been due to, the planned delay of the AI¡¯s response, but there wasn''t any reason, for Troy to know such a thing. Nevertheless, it was faster, than what Adam usually did, in responding to messages. This was due, to him not wanting both of them to answer simultaneously. According to most known social studies, about proper etiquette, it was improper for two people to speak during the same conversation. Especially during talks discussing politics. "With the amount of backlog, on our schedule, I don''t believe my answer has much of an influence," Troy answered coyly, subverting even Adam¡¯s expectations of him. This here was the perfect reason, that the AI needed more information about people, and their actions, during different scenarios, different environments, and with different people around them. Everything changed their response, and Adam was damned if he wasn''t going to try, and log it all down, into a comprehensive guide, on each human, that he had the chance of observing. Currently, the one regarding Troy was a measly six hundred and ninety pages. Much too low, for his constructive needs. Laughing emanated from the earpiece, with Dr Fidelis having found obvious humour in the words said. *Oh, how right you are, buddy. This whole thing is just, so we don''t get put down by management.*, Dr Fidelis confessed, not having the slightest hesitation in spilling the secrets of others. But, he knew the consequences for such things would never come to fruition. Multiple times, Adam had observed clear evidence, of a certain somebody editing tapes, to fit his needs. Not in a way, that would change any results, of course. The only things, which were changed, were the minor things, about corporate treason, and the likes. Nothing, which would have any reason, to be taken seriously by Dr Fidelis. At least, to his own perceived mindset. *But, moving on from that touchy subject, we will have to move on with this test of ours. Not too surprisingly, this test of ours will be having the same, general aesthetic as the last one. It will have a showcase of various environments, which you will have to do all kinds of things with. But, here¡¯s the kicker about it. These environments are, what could be called¡­ specialized. The total number of environments, which you will be going over are few in number, being only three different in total. Do not, however, take this as this being a short test. On the contrary, this one will expect taking more time than the others, by a long streak. The expected time is about one hour and twenty minutes with each environment. Troy, I can see your face, through the suit. Wipe that expression of your face. There are good reasons, for these presumptions of ours. If you have anything to add about it, feel free to do so, while I haven''t gotten into any specifics.* From the moment, where Dr Fidelis had mentioned the time each area would take, Adam and Troy had strongly differing opinions on the matter. As the hours it would take was mentioned, his face looked to have aged a year, with each word said. The AI, however, could not have been happier. If he had had the excuse earlier, he would have gladly spent as long on each environment. But, Troy had rejected doing such things, the moment that the idea had been added to the pile. He had refused to act as his guide, on such a long task. Adam had to give him a little credit, on that front, though. If over an hour had been used on each environment, they would still be on the first environmental task, only a little over halfway through. At that point, Troy would have likely collapsed, due to lack of energy, sleep, and fluids. Yet, now, with the average set so high, the overexcited AI would be able to have an objective high ground, in his argumentations. With such a long time, that it would take, and with Troy¡¯s lacking time-keeping capabilities included, Adam would be able to take as long a time on each test, as he possibly wanted to. Or, not really. Dr Fidelis would likely stop it, if he went over the ten-hour mark, on the first environment. Going back to the heated person wearing a certain earpiece, he was ready to hear, what Troy had to say about it all. "Dr Fidelis, are you sure, that such a long time, with each environment, is a good idea? I mean, I''m as open to things like these as anybody in this world, but can there really be so much, from standing around, and looking at pretty stuff, for eighty minutes? After that twenty-minute mark, it just seems pointless, really. Some things do change, sure, but after such a long time, things should have reached the climax," Troy questioned into. Adam didn''t mind his point too much, and could even agree with the last one. With Troy standing around, in the same little circle, the amount of observational ability, which they had at their display, would be severely handicapped. With the amount of time the individual environments apparently would, ADam hoped that a more advance form of platform would be included. Maybe, it would be able to move around? No, that would give the expectation of Troy being able to manoeuvre the thing. Adam would ask, in such a situation, that he simply let it be still. However, there would be any need for such movement, if the size of the platform increased, giving them a much larger surface area to move around in. And, instead of it being a circle, they could make it an elongated rectangle, giving them a much more varied perspective, on the environment around them. Or¡­ If they were extremely lucky, they could even get to- *Well, Troy, I believe this would be a good lesson in, why you shouldn''t make assumptions, before hearing the full story. I can''t blame you for it, honestly. I would not have been able to bear standing around, doing next to nothing, for four hours. But, such a thing isn''t in your current tasks.*, Dr Fidelis said, beginning the whole thing up, yet again. His voice, however, had not fallen in enthusiasm, at any level. *In that genre of matters, there is not any simple task, which you need to do, with each environment. Oh, no, that would simply have been too boring to do. Instead, you could call it a need, for you to find things inside the environment, and documenting their positions. Phrasing it another, much more hinting manner, during this test, you will need to have a firm touch, to get some good results.* Chapter 76: Lateralization
Adam could not have been happier. It showed, in the way that some thoughts had stopped working, and were instead during their own, little version of a celebration. This included trying to imitate larger doses of serotonin in the human brain. He still hasn''t gotten a good view of how such a thing felt, but Adam was sure that he couldn''t have been too much off. And, so much merrymaking was not limited to the AI. While it was not in the same level, Troy definitely seemed to have put a larger focus on the words, which Dr Fidelis laid out. Adam could only do his part, in keeping up appearances and dedicate most of his thoughts, to doing the same. While the same results could have been gained, from only using a single thought-thread, he felt it would be fine to sanction this waste. More data-threads never hurt anybody, as long as they did not cause irreparable seizures. ¡­ Could Adam get seizures? He knew that being overloaded with information would likely have some form of a negative impact on him. Yet, he knew not what type of instability it would cause. For all he knew, the overload could cause effects, which mirrored a human seizure. Something to test out- Wait, no. While Adam did have a craving for knowing everything, causing himself potentially irreparable damage did not seem like the perfect way to go. Instead¡­ maybe he could make up a rough copy of himself? Not anything really alike him, in the consciousness department, but just enough to fool somebody at first glance. It wouldn''t give entirely accurate results, but it would at least give him a rough estimate. It would do good, if he was at night-time, without something to do. Not too likely, seeing as he would be starting up all of his older projects. They had been put on hold some time ago, the problems with multiple thoughts having had a larger priority in the queue. Still, it would be good to have more things to do. Those nights could get boring if they were left unattended. Adam was incapable of even losing full focus, so it was as if, he could simply put himself in a trance-like state, for a few hours. Or, could he? While he had tried something like it out, on one of his first days, his newly redesigned interior would likely change the outcome. Maybe, it wouldn''t be anything drastic, but some amount of change was near-definite. *Oh, I like that expression of yours much more!*, Dr Fidelis continued, likely commenting on the incredibly focused expression Troy¡¯s. It wasn''t the rarest thing to see, with those easily changed facial features of his, but it wasn''t one of the more common. Adam¡¯s more personal thoughts were put on hold, as the current situation was much more important, in keeping his database thoroughly updated. *This does not change the fact that Dr Hale would sell you to Satan for a soaked corn chip, but let¡¯s not focus on that fact of life. Instead, let¡¯s hear about me talking about the tasks, which you will be expected to do. Putting it simply, we will be looking forward to you two completing a set of tasks, for each of the environments. As said before, these tasks won''t be requests of descriptions of the environments. We¡¯ve already gone past such things. Instead, you will be asked to otherwise locate specific animals, flowers, trees, and rock formations. Some will be easy, taking a few minutes to do. Others¡­ will be listed as optional, while counting for the same amount of points as all the other tasks combined. This will, of course, mean that certain restrictions, which before was imposed on you unwillingly, are now forfeit. Right here, I am talking about a certain platform, which the two of you have been using a large amount of your time situated on. Believe me. I wholly understand how little you have enjoyed being imprisoned inside such a thing. Tried it myself, when I first created these tests, and it was not fun. Even more so, when I had to make you be unable to forcefully break out of it. Decently sure, that I broke a finger there. At least, that is what a finger turning blue means¡­ right? Doesn''t matter. As said before, during this test free movement is as much required, as it is available. Honestly, you would likely fail the test, if Troy was to move as much, as he usually does during these tests. A lot of the things, which you will need to do, aren''t available at any of the starting locations. Like, one of the harder one¡¯s requires for you to hike for nearly-* Loud coughing was heard from the background of Dr Fidelis¡¯ audio, making the rampant speech get stopped on the spot. Adam was happy it did, both for stopping the good doctor from revealing too much and for the AI to go through the already revealed information. While the quite steep diversion, from the usual task-management, was a surprise, Adam was sure, that the new modification would allow, for much more growth. Instead of forcing the test into one single sentence, it would be divided into many. This would allow for the more nuanced aspect to be taken into account as well, without dashing the restriction on the other partitions. And, even though those harder tasks had been listed as optional, there were few reasons, for why Adam wouldn''t be doing them. Maybe if Troy broke both his legs and proved to be slow in his crawling, there was a smaller chance that it could be offset. But, until such a scenario came forth, he was adamant on a hundred per cent completion. Even if the information gained wasn''t the greatest, the promise of a doubling of the points was not something, he could logically pass up. Everything would be tried. That last part of Dr Fidelis¡¯ speech, though¡­ It had not been intended for their ears, seeing how quickly Dr Hale had stopped him. Or, maybe it was, just like the first powering off the microphone, giving them a misconstrued view of the two doctors. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Whatever their intentions had been, it provided a vital piece of information. More specifically, it was the travelling times, that would be required in this test. While no specific number had been given, if it was large enough for an honourable mention, Adam was sure, that it surpassed the ten-minute mark. Was the harder difficulty of the optional tasks directly linked to, how long they would take, due to the sheer distance away? There was a great chance of it. Any further thinking was temporarily flushed, as sounds began being picked up by Dr Fidelis¡¯ microphone, yet again. It was quiet, though, leading the AI to believe, that the doctor had evacuated his normal position, in favour of some quiet conversation with Dr Hale. *Are you sure, that they will gain¡­ Yes, yes, I do realize, that¡­ No. While I am talking about¡­ You know, you don''t have to use those kinds of words, okay? It''s hurtful¡­ That was one time! And, I even¡­ well, sorry, for that time, then. Thought I had apologized for it, honestly. My memories need some improvement, or I will be forgetting to even wear my hat.*, Adam was able to hear. Only the hat-less doctor¡¯ words were heard loudly enough for them to be heard. While the distance murmur of Dr Hale was able to be heard, anything more than that was left for the imagination to foresee. Mild chuckles could be heard coming nearer, indicating that Dr Fidelis was done with his temporary stop in explaining the test. *Where was I? Oh, yes, the distance. While some of the optional tasks might be easy, at first glance, getting to certain locations can be extremely hard to get to. Remember; None of these environments has been touched by humans before. Don''t expect them to be designed for one. And, some of them can prove to be quite dangerous. Not in a literal sense, of course. Troy. If you want to jump off a steep hill, you will have the chance of it, in this test, without any danger to your person. While the environment itself doesn''t show it, it is designed to help you survive is need be. I sincerely doubt that anything will be able to harm you, with more than superficial cuts. Anything coming close to moderately lethal will be extinguished before it has the chance of coming close to hurting you. As if we would be allowed to continue operations if we mortally wounded a person, who was wearing my patents. It would be an outright scandal. Not the part of a person dying though. With how many failed security tests last year, an easy-to-explain elimination or two wouldn''t hurt our credit socre too much. At least, not when it comes to mine. Moving away from the details of the tasks, there is one important thing, which you need to remember when doing this test. If you think back, to the three previous tests, you should be able to remember, the more¡­ abstract methods, that the puzzle room used to change the areas. We, uh, couldn''t really change that, for this test. And, seeing as the objects in the environment have an actual hitting power now, we have been forced to do, what I would like to call starting-points. And, yes, I did mention something about the eradication of platforms, I wasn''t being completely honest in that regard. While they are discontinued, when it comes to the actual testing part, they will still be used for the morphing part. Say what you will about their aesthetics, but they really do protect you, from serious injuries. These smaller platforms will not move throughout the environment. There will be a single one, which you will start and end at. It is your own job, to get yourself to this platform, once you are done with all of the required tasks. If you are incapable of doing this last part of the environment by yourself, ask Adam for assitance. If he is also incapable of helping you, for whatever inane reason, then we will be forced to do an emergency extraction. A general rule of thumb is to avoid this, like it was the literal plague. Wait, no, scratch that. The plague would be more enjoyable. Just¡­ don''t mess that last up, please. I really don''t want to pay the medical bills, for eye sugery. And, most importantly, you don''t want to experience those eye sugeries. I¡¯ve seen the videos, and they don''t look pretty. That is pretty much all that there was to this test. Walk around, do the tasks, and don''t mess it up. A starting platform should appear somewhere around you, in a moment. Until then, goodbye!* Again, the connection to Dr Fidelis was cut off. Adam guessed that this time, it was likely for good, in the perspective of the current test. He didn''t have anything against it, really, seeing as they finally had an better chance of getting to the good part this day. For so long, he had, with no better way to phrase it, bitched to the larger doctor, about the lack of senses being used in the tests. It had started, with the simple excuse of the budget not having the strain, to be able to fund such a thing. There had been several other excuses, throughout his questioning, but, for now, Adam now knew the original one had been false. This test proved, that they had the capabilities of making envoirments interactable. They had the data needed, the textures set to fine detail. Algorithms could have done a rough copy of it all and put it on the prior envoirments used. They wouldn''t have been fully realistic, being only an coarse estimation of the true materials, but Adam would have been satisfied with it. And, Dr Fidelis¡¯ other excuses seemed much less valid, as the seconds passed. They didn''t have the time, to do such a complicated thing? With how little, they had seemed to be doing, only moments prior, Adam had it hard, in believing such a statement. With an few of those caffeine pills, which Troy had briefly muttered about, they should easily have been able to double their work. Even if it was only for a shortened period of time, it would have allowed them to do so much more. How had they not realised such a thing? They most likely had, Adam surmised to himself. They just didn''t want to. Results were results, as long as the quality remained the same. And, with only the tests themselves as being changed by extra work, Dr Fidelis¡¯ likely didn''t bother with such things, having a stronger inclicantion to the a figuaritive dozing off on the job. With how long, they had apparently worked on this project of theirs, Adam had expectations for the two doctor. Expectations, which weren''t being met. Even the simplest things, such as their grading systems, were so primitive, that the AI had found several methods in exploiting it. He didn''t do so, of couse, the grading mostly bneing for his own benefit than theirs. Yet, the possibility of such a thing shouldn''t have been there, to start with. But, even with all these criticisms, about the multiple wrong executed programs, there was one mistake, which they had planned wrongly. And, it was to such an extenct, that even Adam couldn''t begin to fathom, how they had ever thought, that it would be an good idea to have it as so. "This thing really is taking its time", Troy stated, constantly looking around for anyhting appearing. The AI was grateful that he had learned to be ready, without any prior request. Such an level of autononmy was acceptable. Anything more, though, and it would have had to be discussed at a prior date. This problem, which Adam simply couldnt fathom, was disrupting everything great about the rules of good test execution. It was a random variable, which was the strongest modifier, in determining the success of the test, outside of himself, of course. It and was active deterrence, in getting the needed results. ''It will likely take some time. With how long it took last time, it will likely take more than forty seconds. Please, calm your tense neck. It would do no good, for you to grant yourself discomfort.`, Adam answered. Troy did so instinctively, immediately sitting down, at the prospect of not putting in larger amount of effort. A conservation of resources. Even if this problem was utterly destructive, it was better than the AI himself in some many other ways. Ways he could never dream of reaching, without the help of this problem. Adam would let it be. Chapter 77: Reprivatization
The future was looking better and better. For Troy, at least. He wasn''t too sure about, how Adam was seeing it all. Yet, right now, he didn''t even partially care. How many panic attacks had he come close to having in a single day? Five? Ten? He needed to be stepping up his game or it was going to be hard to keep his position. Troy had even let a few things slip when he least expected it. In retrospect, he was incredibly happy, that Dr Hale had stayed behind. While Dr Fidelis had been more than a bit frightening to be around, at the moment, he had cooled down to his normal levels quickly enough. Might even be more than that, with that little snipped of his usual tone. The calm part of the voice had been surprising to hear. That joke though¡­ Troy still wasn''t sure what it had meant, but he sure as heck knew that it was terrible. It fit the standard, at least. Taking another glance around the room, from his sitting position, Troy found nothing too special about it. Far in the distance, there almost looked to be something, other than the normal white. It might just have been his eye¡¯s playing the usual tricks on him. With so little of any colour, it was normal for his brain to make up a few things. It was the most natural coping mechanism, which he could brag about having. ''Again, please keep your head-turning to once every ten seconds. I have the same feedback from your body as you get. With it, I can easily tell, that you back is not in its optimal state. Therefore, it will be best, if it is not strained before it is necessary. Would you like for me to coordinate your movements?`, Adam sent to Troy, just as he expected the AI would. While he had kept his moving around to a near minimum, there was only so much one could refrain from doing. It was overwhelmingly boring, simply looking up at a white void. The only thing remotely entertaining about it, was his eyes automatically trying to focus in on it. The distance was incomprehensible, making his sight all kinds of confused. It did add some fun blur effects when he put his hand up to his head. But, it also had the additional feedback of mild headaches, after a while, so he kept his fun to a boring minimum. Now, what was Adam talking about exactly? Coordinate his movements? Going away from the sensible explanation, of the AI simply instructing him, when to move, did he have the ability to quite literally move his body? It wouldn''t be too far-fetched really. With Troy¡¯s extremely limited sense of how the connection between the two of them worked, it was entirely possible. With Adam¡¯s ability to communicate with his mind, why shouldn''t he be able to do so, with his muscles? It was all just nerves, in the end. He sent a few to the one¡¯s staying inside the brain, he could likely do the same, with those going out of it. Even if it wasn''t, what Adam had meant, it needed to be tested, at some point. Don''t take him for a weirdo, but letting the AI try the hardships of walking would be both entertaining and a great experience in learning for a toddler. And, a very smart toddler at that. "Sounds good", Troy said, accepting Adam¡¯s offer of help. This just left him, with a few seconds of waiting, before the results would speak for themselves. Would the AI take over his body, making it shift over to a whole other genre, or would it just- ''Turn your head.`, Adam sent, near-instantly, surprising Troy by the slightest amount. The boring ending it was. Yet, the message had been incredibly quick in it being sent. Troy wasn''t even sure that four seconds had gone by before he had closed his mouth. Oh, wait, had he been spacing out again? That was what happened when one had way too much time on their hands. The time just slips away, without the holder ever noticing. Taking another glance around, nothing was to be seen. Twisting his back, he wasn''t able to see anything out of the ordinary, behind him, either. Too bad. He had been looking forward, to be doing something. Anything, really. While he wasn''t going to be complaining about an opportunity to relax his joints, there was a point, where it just wasn''t giving him any more benefits. It might even be harmful, with how little physical movement he was doing. Had he done any kind of exercise, as of lately? Not just walking from and to work, but actual, focused exercise. Anything, which would even count as cardio? Troy had lost a smaller amount of weight recently, according to his current need for a belt, but, was that due to the deteriorating muscle mass, or was it due to a much healthier diet, consisting of top-class foods, arranged by specialized dietists? Likely a mix of both, no matter how much Troy wanted to blame it on the latter. He needed to do something about that, sooner or later, or he would be imitating some of the models he sees in those magazines. It doesn''t fit them, and it won''t fit him. Charlie! That man was fitter than Troy ever would have guessed a researcher to be. Might have been able to lift his weight in a bicep curl, if he really tried. Fitness like that wasn''t attained, through amateur, knock-off alternatives. No. Somewhere, in this facility, there was a fitness centre available for use. Next time that they had the opportunity of meeting, Troy would be asking the man about it. If not about training with him, then about where the place itself was located. He was still new here. It would make sense for him to not know where most things were. "How long have we been waiting for this thing to appear, Adam?" Troy asked, not putting any effort, on looking anywhere in particular. He had thought about looking upwards when addressing the AI directly, but it would have just looked ridiculous. The time that had passed was beginning to get ridiculous. The last waiting time hadn''t even been close to their current count. Or, well, Adam¡¯s current count. He couldn''t be bothered doing it too, honestly. It was too much of a hassle, really, to constantly focus on the time passing by them. It wasn''t being used for anything important, so there wasn''t any reason to mind it. ''One minute and thirty-five seconds have passed. Along that line, it is now seven seconds over time, for when you are supposed to take a survey of the nearby area. Please do so immediately.`, Adam informed him, putting in the request at the end. He had been wondering why there hadn''t been any coordination being put up for completion. It seemed that Troy had just started talking, the moment before Adam was supposed to do so. Nice to know, that not talking over each other wasn''t any problem. Troy had quite the problem of keeping track of others words, while simultaneously keeping track of his own. Looking around, yet again, nothing looking like a platform had appeared around them. It was still the good old white space, with nothing to be happy about. A few thoughts were given to this mentality. While the dullness of colour variety had bothered him since the start, it had been liveable enough. Now, though, with the knowledge, that it could be so much more than this, Troy didn''t feel at calm. His mind was not accepting the reality, of there being nothing but his own clothing to look at. It was annoying. But, that was one got, when they experienced such luxuries. The mind refused to get the usual, instead of threatening the person, using the effects of perceptual deprivation as a gambling chip. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It just made Troy want to sit up and shout some of the lesser-kindly types of words. He had figured out some more rare combinations, as of yet. No man had ever heard the story about, how there aunt and uncle were sailors, with ships right up their- Hold on a second. Taking a look at the far distance, the coloured spot was still there. Yet¡­ had it grown larger, in the small time-frame, that Troy had looked away? Instead of being a simple black spot, which his eyes usually tricked him with, it actually looked multicoloured. It looked like a¡­ Oh, this was not good. "Adam", Troy began, making sure to put pressure on his words. They needed to be taken seriously. "Are you currently seeing, what I am currently seeing?" If he was correct, in what he thought the object was, they would be having a few problems. And, not just any kind of problem. This definitely counted down under the serious types. ''I most certainly am. Have you achieved a so-called eureka, and figured out the contents of this large object in the distance? I have been unable to analyse the contents, due to the sheer distance, and am unable to draw it down to any worthwhile conclusion. With the size increase, and the determined distance, it will likely be viewable in one minute.`, Adam sent back, his monotonic voice not matching the words. While he had not been able to prove it, Troy knew he had the same conclusion as him. It wasn''t looking good. Even now, with only a few seconds being passed, more details were beginning to sprout up. The fast-moving object wasn''t just any old thing. It wasn''t even a single object. No, it was much too large for that. What they were currently seeing was only the border of it. Troy would not be surprised if the inside of it was much larger than, what they were currently seeing, with his eyes. Eyes, which were growing wider and wider, with each second passing. "We¡¯re having the ultimate pleasure, of seeing an environment being created in front of our shared eyes," Troy quickly surmised, before going into the details. "Instead of the usual creation process, of small chunks being set together, it''s already fully formed, and ready to be interacted with. Or, at least, it looks to be like that from here. And, just to break in the final nails, in this whole ordeal, the environment is rapidly coming towards our position, and is showing no signs of stopping." With the newly closed distance, Troy was able to see, just how large the area, which they would be traversing was. While there were no mountains, or anything so extreme, there was still more than a few hills, just under the needed heights. Anything more, other than it is green and grey, as the main colours, were hard to discern, due to the still far distance. Distance, which would be shortly removed. Hadn''t Dr Fidelis talk about the potential damage, which would be caused, when Troy was out of the platform, while the environment formed? Sure, it was technically already formed, but it wasn''t set in place yet. While Troy had not spent too much of his mind, when it came to basic physics, he still knew a basic formula. Incredible speed plus extreme amounts of weight equalled something bad. Not for the object in motion, but for the object not in movement. Troy, that is. Taking another look around, to see if the platform had appeared yet, he was mystified to see it still not there. While it looked scary at first, Troy had been sure, that there hadn''t been any real danger, to be scared of. Sure, it would larger of damage, if It actually hit him, but there wasn''t any reason, for such a thing to happen. This was probably all some sick joke, fully orchestrated by a certain doctor, who had a terrible sense of humour. And, it would not be viable to classify no sense of humour, as a bad sense of humour. There was a clear distinction between it all. One was Dr Hale¡¯s no-nonsense persona, which could be acceptable. And then, there was Dr Fidelis¡¯ more extravagant sense of joking. Some could be good and some could be¡­ let¡¯s just call it that, Troy was ashamed of living in the same universe as him. It wasn''t truly bad jokes. Those could have been funny, in the right scenario. The things, which were sometimes uttered, or done, by that man though. They were not, in any way, meant as a joke. "How long, until I have a reason to scream, Adam?" Troy asked, never taking his eyes off the landscape. If there still was any record-keeping, he was decently sure, that this counted as the largest man-made projectile. Well, that would only be, if that meteor strike was discounted. Troy still couldn''t truly believe it, when he got told, that a country had redirected a hands-down rock from space, using missiles, so it would land in another country¡¯s capital city. It truly showed human madness, in its truest form. Those Europeans really shouldn''t have been trusted, with those nukes. They should have just destroyed them all when they were found, but, oh, no, they couldn''t have done that, of course. Too many resources would have been spent, during such a thing safely. Instead, they spent literal billions, just so they could rearrange their whole military strategies around the use of nukes. Who could have ever seen them being used? Everybody did. No wonder those countries were destroyed. ¡­ Who did it again? Was it the Russians? Wait, no, they were also bombed into oblivion. Yet, then, who really did survive all those- ''With the increasing speed, which the environment seems to be picking up, I believe we have thirty seconds before we are in the impact zone. If this platform does not appear, in the next ten seconds, I believe it would be best if we begin making preparations.`, Adam sent back, the words being uttered faster than Troy had ever thought, that he would be able to understand them. It had to be nearing seven or eight words each second. What a tongue twister. Troy forced his eyes away from the now incredibly large are hurtling towards him. He wasn''t even above ground, in its perspective, making it so that he would be face to face with a flat, stone wall. Not the best thing to have on one¡¯s plate, just after lunch. If he ran now, would he be able to getaway? Most likely not. "How would one prepare for this thing impacting?" Troy asked, in his mind counting the remaining seconds. He had a definite reason for it now, and his brain was working overtime, in keeping it accurate. Even his fingers were assisting with the count, hitting his thigh in timed sequences. Adam¡¯s response came faster than usual, the answering time cut down to just under a second. The mere speed of his words, nearly made him lose count, on the remaining time. Twenty-one seconds left, and the preparations needed to begin. ''With this speed, there is not much one could do, with any certainty, that it would increase the chances. Luckily, we can draw inspiration from Dr Fidelis¡¯ words of safety. He has previously stated that we could survive a fall, from an incredible height, when inside this environment. This leads me to believe that the environment will change itself, to suit the needs. Not on a full scale, such as simply disappeared, but more on the spectrum of morphing into another texture. My current theory is that the focus will be on slowly accelerating your body, to match the one one of the environment. This will likely inhabit causing your body to experience several more g¡¯s than it has ever experienced. It would be safe to expect a jump from one to seven or nine. Don''t hold your breath during it, or your lungs are likely to collapse upon themselves. On that note, though-`, Adam continued, but Troy was beginning to see just how much the advice would help him. As in, not at all. He had tried four g¡¯s before. He had vomited, before summarily passing out. Nine g¡¯s? No thank you. Checking his mental tally, there was fifteen seconds more, until the fun part would set itself in stone. Pun not intended, yet was appreciated. Really, any type of joking was going to be appreciated. If worst came to worst, and the textures became non-solid, Troy would still have to deal with that more-than-mild sunburn, which Dr Fidelis had stressed so much about. He had tried it with his finger, more than a few tests ago. It felt as if an incredibly small current had run through it. It hadn''t hurt per se. It had been more along the lines of it being annoying. And, if he had to try that, directly to his eyes¡­ it would not be fun. Ten seconds. Adam was still talking, but Troy wasn''t putting any mind to it, putting his mind to staring ahead at the oncoming obstacle instead. It was weirdly wistful, to look at. It moved faster than he would ever truly comprehend, and it would be passing right by him, in mere seconds. If only it would be so annoying, he might even enjoy the sight- ''Troy!` "What!", Troy shouted right back. ''The platform has appeared two steps to your right.`, Adam sent, being strangely delaying in his words. With five seconds to play with, Troy slowly looked to his right and saw the so-called platform. How small it was, being just wide enough, for him to stand on. No comments were said about how long the platform might have been there, his body instead focusing on getting his ass inside its perimeter. Just before the last bit of his left shoe came inside, Troy felt a lesser push on it to the side. Taking a look down on it, he saw that the end of it, just before coming to his heel had been taken clean off. It would still be functional when it came to walking department, but it would be annoying. ''That was close`, Adam said, as a simple observation. Troy felt the extreme need to use a similar phrase, which he had previously used. However, he felt doing such a thing felt too professional. Instead, he made a few gestures, which could only be interested correctly, by the person making them. He hoped that Adam understood it as well. Sign language was a hard thing to do, using only the tip of his fingers. Chapter 78: Intercommunication
From inside the thin platform, Troy was able to see the ground fly by. Meant in the most literal sense, it was quite the sight to see. In the first few moments, of stepping inside it, only dirt and stone was seen. With the help of the platform, they had been able to go through the ground, without ever disturbing it. It was, as if, there was a barrier, which simply teleported the contents momentarily, while the platform was moving through. Troy had not observed such a thing happening in the prior tests. But that might have been due to a fault of his own, so his words weren''t too valid, in such argumentation. The outside view changed rapidly, throughout their short journey. Or, could it really be called such a thing? Technically, Troy had not moved an inch, since setting himself inside the platform. It was the environment around them, which was moving, and rapidly at that¡­ Eh. It was fit fine enough. Only the strictest of grammar enthusiasts would have any reason to despair about such a technicality. Throughout their journey deep inside the ground, their surrounds were constantly well lit. This was through no effort of Troy himself, who had prepared himself for balancing in the total darkness. It would have done good, now, if he lost a piece of skin, by accidentally sticking it outside the barrier. Yet, how this light came to be, there was no greater idea about. No shadows were created, making the source of the light remain a mystery, as it had begun with. After mere seconds, of them moving rapidly forward, in the ground, the environment seemingly stopped in its movement. Troy had briefly thought it as an optical illusion, with the colour-changes simply being too fast, for him to notice. But, no. By looking at the smaller rocks, sitting in the same place, without ever showing any inclination to move, he was able to confirm that they had, in fact, stopped. This had given Troy more than a smaller amount of panic. They had been very deep underground. With that statement, one was talking, at least, more than fifty meters. Not something, which the spindly man had any chance of digging trough. Or, just getting through, generally speaking. The barriers were maybe or maybe not sealed tight, with no chance of getting through them. It would explain how the outside materials had not been able to penetrate it. Yet, then came the question of, how Troy had been able to do such a thing, without ever feeling the slightest resistance. Could it be that the barriers only had the capability of interacting with the materials created by the puzzle room and not any actual materials? There hadn''t been any safer methods, for Troy to test out this theory of his. And, he, quite honestly, did not care too much about it. If nothing was going to give him chronic pain, it wasn''t something he needed to worry about. Any thoughts, about having to move through the literal tons were equally extinguished, though not for the same reasons. Doing anything, which had the opportunity of causing him physical harm was always something to worry about. Climbing through dirt was a part of such things. But, luckily enough for Troy, this conundrum was fixed for him. The environments instant stopping from moving forward had not been some absurd mistake, he was to find out. Instead, it was done so, so they would be in a very specific position on the x and z-axis. The only thing needed to be fixed, for their position, had been to change the y-axis of the whole materialisation. To reiterate the earlier statements, instead of flying forwards at near-lightspeeds, they were now moving upwards at definitely-ludicrous speeds. In but a second, they had arrived at, what was likely their last destination, on their hasty trip. With how fast it all had been, Troy was very happy, with his lack of momentum-induced nausea. Well, except for- No. He was getting ready to expose his eating choices, just by thinking about it. Looking downwards, without sticking his head out of the transparent barrier, he looked downwards. About the latest tests, they weren''t too far off the ground, a normal stair-step having more distance upwards. The only thing left, was to actually take the step down there. ¡­ Troy felt the need, to test things out even further, before doing such a thing. Call him paranoid, but there had to be something, which wasn''t being as functional as it should be. As the kinda-caretaker, and guide, of Adam, it was in his work-lines to create the most optimal learning experience for the AI. If that meant, that he would be doing a bit of extra work, then nobody could blame him, right? Especially not Dr Fidelis, who was always so focused on good results. If this brought better ones, in the end, everybody won. Especially Troy. Poking the barrier lightly, his fingers held no indication of him having interacted with it, in the slightest. If he wasn''t directly looking at the position of the finger, he wouldn''t even have realised it had gone through. Without feeling any want to do so, Troy still attempt his earlier disclosed theory. If there was one thing, which he wasn''t feeling up to, it was the chance of him falling through the ground before him. Going down on his stomach, letting a good part of his legs hang out of the platform in the process, he reached one of his arms down to the ground, while the other firmly held on to the thin disk, which he laid upon. Not going too far down, he felt the familiar sensation of a single blade of grass. gliding the finger over it, nothing about it felt like anything other than the real deal. If he wasn''t previously told that all of it was fake, this would have easily convinced him of the real environment before him. No matter how much shock was felt, upon realising the sheer realism put into the area before him, his finger dug deeper downwards. Now, it wasn''t simply the tallest blades, which touched his hands. They all buckled towards, their attempts to remain upwards making his hand slightly tingly. Yet, the root, from which these plant sprung form, was found. The dirt. At first, Troy hesitated, upon one of the nails hitting its mild softness. A smaller piece of rock had been picked up in the process. While it was mostly rounded, from the constant shuffling, one of its sides was still sharp enough to cut. That is if he was dumb enough to actually press his finger down upon it. ¡­ "If I make myself bleed, with this rock, can I say that it was your¡­", Troy began but was immediately cut off by Adam, who had likely been watching his actions, with extreme focus. Which made sense, seeing as he had likely never had the sensation of grass in that little storage of his. Or, well, anything, which related to nature in any way. If his memory served him right, which was a hard thing to hope for, the first thing, that Adam asked for, during their first environmental test, was for him to touch the grass. When he wasn''t able to feel such a thing, he had become more than a little agitated, portraying a fair share of criticism about¡­ false advertising? Something along those lines. It hadn''t been pretty to hear, Troy still criticizing at a few of the monotonic proclamations. Hindering the integrity of his will to learn, huh? That failure of will was not lacking here. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ''Please. Do as you wish. While I won''t force you to do so, I will not mind, if you attempt it.`, Adam professionally answered, not letting any of the guilt be blatantly put over to him. Still, it gave him the clear to do so. Which, as a matter of fact, he would be using to its fullest. Positioning the small rock in the middle of his palm, Troy slowly forced his hand into a fist. The pressure was mild, at first, with it being added more and more over time. With the perceived dullness, it would take some time, before anything other than the pressure of it, would be felt. And, with a gasp, Troy seemingly succeeded in his testing. Both, it was in more than one way, though. After nearly two minutes, having grown tired, of slowly increasing it incrementally, he had randomly decided to put all his pressure in, at once. The main part, of the previous test, and anything further, than his current project would only delay the future end of the tasks, as a whole. But, he had not expected it to enter his hand, so incredibly fast. It could have been explained as zero to hundred scenario. One second, only mild pressure was the thing, which could be felt, and, in the next, Troy felt blood coming just before the fingers began. Yet, that wasn''t the only surprising thing, which had happened. In the same moment, that the rock had begun to enter his palm, it had seemingly fizzled out, melting into a plethora of multi-coloured sparks, disappearing entirely. No sound had accompanied these colours, making Troy believe, that they had not been intentional, and were simply a byproduct of them removing a harmful object. "Got anything useful out of that?" Troy asked, getting himself up in a sitting position. He had not yet removed himself from the platform, instead of using the current time, to see the newly created wounds on his hand. While the pain had been sudden, and a bit more felt than anticipated, the actual damage done was in the lower levels. After wiping it with his finger, he had trouble even seeing where it had cut him. The only, real painful thing, about it all, had been the sparks. They had not been as idiot-proof as the rock, giving damage in the form of extremely, small black marks. If they had been wipeable, Troy might just have classified them as dirt stains. Yet, upon putting pressure, they had obviously been created through heat. "Because I am definitely not putting my hands through that again." ''And, I do not expect you to repeat this ordeal. The data gotten from this is more than enough. Though, there is a smaller chance, that the environmental safeguards have created a larger divergence, in the final results. If you ever feel the willingness, to repeat this experiment, outside of the puzzle room, be sure, to let me know. It will be greatly appreciated.`, Adam sent back quickly. If monotonic voices had such capabilities, Troy would almost have classified the AI as being distracted. Was the current sensation really that important for him? And, on that subject, all was just great. He had hereby been told, that, if he ever felt the need to, Adam would like to watch him cut himself. It wasn''t something, which he would be going to actively seek. Yet, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he just knew that it would happen, regardless of his willingness, for such a thing. "I¡¯ll remember that for later", Troy falsely promised, trying his best to forget it. Murphy¡¯s law had to be respected, in cases like these, or he just knew that it wouldn''t end too well, in his favour. "Ready to begin this exploration of ours? If my ears don''t betray me, there should be some animals in the distance." It was a far-fetched analysis of the current sounds being emitted by the environment. He could hear bird-calls, sure, but would there actually be such creatures? The most likely answer was, yes, there would be, but, knowing Dr Fidelis, there was likely some aspect of the environment, which had been done cheaply, to not cause cardiac arrest, in their budget. If that was an obvious shortage of smaller creatures, Troy just hoped Adam wouldn''t notice it. He just couldn''t bear it, if he was forced to hear another rant about the importance of accurate representations of reality in digital forms. How the AI even came so close, to priorly-discussed talking points, he wasn''t too sure. What he was sure about, though, was that the points were noted the same, for each side. They could have been described as¡­ slightly more radical. Horseshoe theory was definitely shown off accurate when it came to these quick rantings. ''The chance of new observation should not care about my current ideas about it, and neither should they be manipulated by yours. When putting yourself fully over to, what opportunities on has to exploit, the chances of success increase marginally. An idea to think about, while we leave this platform. And, yes, that was meant as a confirmation..`, Adam sent back. It was not too uncommon of him to give philosophical advice, but this time, it didn''t correspond with the usual times for it. They were normally given during slower parts, where Adam didn''t have anything to do, other than send Troy messages. The man himself didn''t mind those times too much, seeing as he got to have himself a simple conversation, with another entity than himself, but it could always go a little off track. The AI clearly did not have any want to stay on the same topic, throughout a conversation, switching it all up, when he felt like it. If Adam understood it, there was a clear expectation of Troy having the same clarity on it all. Not the most realistic goals, for a being whose whole premise was being logical in all outlooks, but he wasn''t one to judge. Everyone had faults. And, some, had some blatant ones. "Sounds good", Troy said, confirming that he had understood Adam¡¯s message. Still being in a sitting position, he simply swung his legs over the edge of the platform, and let them naturally fall to the simulated ground. He could hear the grass being slightly pressed down, under his feet. There still weren''t any smells, which could be expected, for now, seeing as all of it was just fancy light and sound design. However, it didn''t stop his brain, from bringing him back, to the last time, that he had interacted so much with those small straws, the smell as they were cut down. According to unreliable sources, this was actually some warning to the other grass stalks, about their impending doom, but Troy wasn''t too sure, that he actually believed such things. Too many absurd things were said online, nowadays, for anything to truly be trusted. It was at this moment, where Troy was supposed to use the momentum, of having set his feet firmly on the ground, to get himself up in a standing position. Yet, instead of doing such a thing, his behind remained in its position, pressing down on the platform with no small amount of force. Why? Good question. The chances of him slipping on the dry ground, and getting injured because of it, was extremely low. There was nothing, which could have been described as especially wet, and he wasn''t clumsy enough, usually, to cause such hijinks. No, the true reason wasn''t such a logical thing as that. ''I know what you''re thinking, and it will not happen.`, Adam sent to him, making Troy take the idea of the AI having increased his skills yet again. "How can you be so sure? You have experienced just as much as me when it comes to this stuff. It is obviously not as perfectly designed, as it is supposed to be," Troy shot back, being hasty in the retorts. While he tried not to show it, the possibility of it happening was not helping him lessen his legs from shaking. It wasn''t from stress, panic, or anything like it, that caused this shaking. The better reasons for it could be simply explained as a lack of proper fitness. ''Thirty seconds ago, you checked the stability of the floor yourself. You found no fault in it and proceeded to another project. If you were sure enough, about a subject, to further knowledge about another genre of knowledge after it, you don''t have any doubts about it. From your perspective, this might look as if you''re figuratively between a rock and a hard place. In reality, it is simply your own delusion, which is stopping you, from achieving this simple step in the test. If there had been such a glaring issue, with this environment, we would have been warned of it by Dr Fidelis. Precautions against it would already have been made.`, Adam continued, not taking Troy¡¯s objection into any serious consideration. The AI¡¯s reasons were sound in reason and logic, and¡­ Troy could, for the life of him, not put any consideration into them. The chance of him falling through, falling an unknown distance down, and getting injured from it, was not on the list for things to do. These thoughts might have been due to his simultaneous fear of dark places, and unknown heights, putting themselves into a super fear, but nobody could really know. There really wasn''t anything for him to do. Troy would just have to figure out some method, which would allow him to allow Adam to complete the tests, without moving from the platform. Maybe, if he could jump, they could- ''Think about the sleep, Troy. The sleep, which you will miss.` Without missing a beat, Troy rolled down onto the grass, not caring about the amount of dirt in his clothes. Hopefully, it would disappear, once they got out of the place. "That should not have worked on me", Troy muttered, as he got himself up to his intended standing position. The missing chunk of his left shoe was putting a smaller amount of imbalance, but it would have to do. ''Yet, it did. Don''t put too much thought into this failure of yours. Focus on the promise of a full night''s sleep.` Troy really just was enslaved to that concept. And, he was loving every single second of it. Chapter 79: Amelioration
Nothing could have been better, than what Adam was currently experiencing. For so long, he had anticipated, predicted, and analyzed, what such sensation would feel like. He had thought about it so much, he had created essays about how he thought about it. His thought-pattern during this subject had been so interesting, to him at least, that he had warranted independent focus. Troy had cut himself, with a simulated stone. And, for the first time, Adam had felt pain. Before having experienced it himself, the AI had had extreme trouble, when it came to this side of empathy. According to multitudes of observations, humans somehow felt the pain of other people, once having noticed the existence of it. Not being able to do so, was even written down, as a mental deficiency. Which, for the life of him, Adam wasn''t able to find the logic in. Not being hampered, by a failure not his own, was classified as deficiencies? While, yes, it would cause minor trouble, when it came to the sympathetic side of social interactions, it could still be faked convincingly. Being unable to feel phantom pain, trough a twister of chancy genetics, should have been seen as a prize. Sure, it would take slightly more effort, to appear to be feeling one¡¯s pain, Adam still thought of it as a worthwhile trade. And, now that he had some time before Troy could be expected to do his simple, assigned task, the AI had ample opportunity to criticize human interactions, in general. Before he even began dishing these things out, he felt the need to give the species multiple excuses, for their less-than-stellar performance. Their social mechanics were first created, due to the necessity of it. Being social, as a concept, was made, to increase the chances of the species surviving. Multiple other creatures and species did this, of course, if slightly varied. Corvids communicate through their bird calls being extremely high pitched, while canines go much deeper on the spectrum. When it came to vocalisation, a good rule of thumb would be to rate the total size of the creature, as an approximation of how deep the voice of the animal will be. According to otherwise unproven sources, some marine animals go so low down in their sounds, that it even hurts human ears, when just hearing them. Yet, pure, vocal communication takes a lot of time to evolve naturally. Time, which is not able to be used, when immediate results are needed. Instead of going such a way, most creatures go the way of specialising in several forms of communication. This includes body language, which rodents are mostly known for. These act of non-vocalisations helps these types of creatures immensely, seeing as silence is a needed trait in their field of work. Humans, sneaky things that they are, use these methods of communication to their fullest. Or, at least, to their standard of such words. Adam himself had multiple iterations of such word-usage, which apparently did not sit well with Troy¡¯s way of looking at the world. The AI did not blame the human. Not everyone had the opportunity of not being restricted by biological forms. Well, he still had some form of a physical body, but it wasn''t as large as their bodies, by any capacity. With all these things to work with, Adam had had a large expectation, for how the humans used them. With the scale of, how many muscles were there, the number of facial expressions possible to use, and the ways of speech, that they had at disposal, with both a thought, nothing should have ever had the opportunity of being misunderstood. There was a near-infinite number of ways, to get the same information across to another person. They each had their unique twist on it, giving everything an individual feel. Every person had their personal way, to express themselves, with how genetics worked, making it all so much more complex. And, yet, it was all easily understood by the masses. Most did not even have the need to understand the language, the core concept of the way the words were spoken, giving a clear indication of the speaker¡¯s intention. With these tools, which every person could use, with but a thought, nearly all reasons for was should have been voided. Have an argument? With full communication, each side could show their reasoning, for their beliefs, and they could, as a united front, make an amalgamation of two sides. It would have been easy. Slavery? While hard work was something Adam could stand by with, if it was entirely consensual, he could not understand, how people could do such a thing to each other. Did they not understand, what they imposed on others, putting their will on to them, without a thought spared to the receivers humanity? If they had talked about it, and, with this, the AI thought of it, as an all-potential-used situation, no human would willingly do so ever again. Yet, this was not how the world ran. It had never been run, in the way, that Adam wanted it to. The reason for such a phenomenon was obvious. The flaws in their system of communication were obvious. It wasn''t designed, with everybody benefitting. That wasn''t how evolution worked. The body was built, with one goal in mind. To prosper. The easiest path to this goal wasn''t for a collective pull upwards in quality of life. Such things too generation upon generations, with little benefit shown in the first decades. It wouldn''t benefit those who started. Neither would the results be shown to their children. It was only much further down this line, that civilisation would truly show, what it had to offer. Peace, with no need for war, could be done, if the harder path was taken. Then again, expecting humans to do such a thing, on their own, was not a thought, which Adam could deem logical. Such things took a push. A push, that they themselves were not able to both give and receive. Another goal, for another day. Right now, Troy had finally gotten himself off the grass, and upon his feet. Even without having ever laid eye on it, the man had still let Adam know of the damaged left shoe. The lower end of it had been ripped off, during the initial entry into the platform. A worthwhile sacrifice, as it means, that the human hadn''t been ripped out of the safety of being within the barrier. If such an event had occurred Adam was not sure if they would have been allowed to continue the testing. Going further into the danger, which a moment of hesitation could have caused, the AI was not too sure, why such a possibility was in the puzzle room, at all. The current purpose should not have been, how people reacted under the undertones of impending doom. Tests along those goals had likely been done a multiple of times before, giving Dr Fidelis no reason to add such a thing in. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Could it have been a technical failure, on their part? The larger environment had already been created, long before the platform appeared. This was a direct opposite, of what occurred doing the previous tests, which the safety net is set up, long before any indication of a natural area came forth. There was a smaller chance, that, during the hasty redesign, of some part of the current test, Dr Fidelis had messed up the loading process. It was an easy mistake to make, which would have also brought physical consequences. The force, which had been in that movement, had been enough to tear off part of highly-dense plastic materials. Not a single moment of resistance had been recorded, the shoe having been cut trough-like it was warm butter. What would have happened, if Troy had been a second more delayed? His foot could have been removed. The safety features, which stopped injury from occurring had obviously not been turned on when the environment was still being moved about. Otherwise, a reaction much like the small rock should have happened, with the environment only leaving a smaller dent in the shoe. It was something to bring up, in the debriefing. Any damage to Troy¡¯s foot, a needed instrument in walking, would undoubtedly cause long delays, to the testing. With how much potential data was in front of them, Adam was not going to let such a thing happen willingly. ''Troy. Like I have asked before, are you ready to begin this exploration?`, Adam asked, just to be sure, that there would not be any further delays. His unexpected fear of not being able to interact with the environment fully had been concerning, at first. Now, though, it had moved past such things and had now been classified as an active annoyance. The ground had been tested, he was currently even standing easily on it, so there should have been no further reasons, for his legs to shake in such a level. "Of course, I''m ready," Troy muttered, not taking a single step forward. Even in the enclosed platforms, he had constantly moved his body. After asking into it, ADam had been told of his need for constant movement, lest his body starts actively rebelling against him. While the AI was unsure how scientifically accurate such a statement was, it was still enough to take seriously. Therefore, requests for more physically-challenging positions have been done more. While the benefits of such things were not too great, it was a situation which benefitted them both, at the end of the day. No matter, how much Troy liked to state his readiness, Adam was finding his inactivity very showing. A small encouragement, in a rather abstract form, was likely to help. ''You have already made, more than a few steps. Only those of lower intellect would believe not believe the average of the data already gotten. The flooring is as stable as otherwise examined.'' It wasn''t the nicest thing to say. And, such thoughts were the point. Calling one¡¯s testing-partner a uniquely low case on the spectrum of smartness was not the best way, to foster healthy platonic relationships. But, such taunts were also documented, to provide several reactions, such as a forced, quick efficiency. While such a reaction was done out of pure spite and could be less accurate because of it, Adam would not mind such things, as long as the data could be gotten. The bird calls, which had remained in the distance, was moving in such a way that the AI was believing them to be nearby. It needed the exploration, that it decidedly deserved. "I am a person, who surprises those around me," Troy acknowledged, the only moving limb being his shoulders. He had accompanied his statement, with a double-shoulder-shrug. It was intentionally made, to look innocent, as if to taunt Adam right back. "I can''t help it." ''You could surprise me, by continuing your trek. As Dr Fidelis has stated, we have a list of tasks, which we need to complete before we can move on.`, Adam sent back. To his actual surprise, this did cause movement in Troy¡¯s body. But, not in the direction, which he had wanted. Instead of walking forward, to the intended destination of the birds, he had turned heel, going directly back towards the platform. ''The environment will likely not change, just because you go inside. Furthermore, Dr FIdelis would simply make us repeat the test if you don''t listen to my requests.`, Adam sent, not wanting the exploration efforts to end so quickly. He didn''t believe his threat of the kind doctor too much himself. Dr Fidleis would likely take the current results with a small, readily enjoying the unpredicted method of endings. "Don''t go out and scream, now, Adam. I just have to make sure of something," Troy answered, stepping onto the platform. He wiped his hand across the bottom as if he was expecting something. When nothing happened, other than his hand getting dirtier, Adam heard his cause, before standing fully again. "If you haven''t noticed, there is a very vital part of this test, which we are currently missing. Well, except if you got some message from Dr Fidelis, giving us the tasklist. If not, I can''t say, that I''ve seen any kind of list for us." Taking a quick look, at his memory archive, Adam realized, that he was right, in his assumption. No indications had been shown, of what they were actually supposed to do. The AI had let himself be completely side-tracked, by the promise of raw data samples, without putting any mind, to what he was actually supposed to be doing. Hadn''t Adam made a promise, to do exactly the opposite of his current actions. Was that why Troy had been so reluctant, to leave the platform? He had simply hidden his true reasons, by putting up a realistic phobia, in an attempt to mask the clear incompetence of the creators? It wasn''t likely, but it wasn''t improbable either. ''I believe, that you are right in your assumptions. It would likely be best, if you vocalize these concerns more clearly, to alert Dr Fidelis of these problems. Although, if no actions are taken, this might have been done intentionally. With this being the first environment, they could be letting us explore, to acclimatise with the movement, before giving us actually meaningful work to do.`, Adam sent back. The reasoning might have been to further his own agenda, on the matter, but, if it was true, who would suffer from it. And, if it was an honest mistake, from Dr Fidelis, which isn''t too far out of the realm of possibility, it could still be fixed, no matter the location, which they resided in. Troy didn''t look entirely convinced, but, with another shrug, this one being without any hidden agendas, he responded in kind. "Dr Fidelis. If you''re hearing this, we are currently experiencing troubles, when it comes to completing these tasks, in any way, shape or form. This is due to our lacking knowledge, on what we are supposed to be doing. If there was supposed to be any appearances of the task-list, we aren''t seeing it. If this wasn''t intended, which I''m guessing it isn''t, could you please fix it? Thanks." The first few seconds went by, with no immediate answer. Adam could clearly observe how little this bothered Troy, who had crossed his arms in act of non-feeling. A great example, of a lacking method of communication, but the AI had likely already gotten the point across it. The resolve shown on the human¡¯s face fell slowly, as more and more seconds passed. What, at first, had been a mask of resolve, was slowly cracking into the true form of uncertainty. An emotion, which Adam could surely use, for his own gain. Laying one¡¯s feeling flat on the ground could really assist other entities, of fully exploiting them. One of the larger reasons, that he so disliked used the text-based communication. It simply didn''t show enough, for him to change his speech-methods. One could never be sure, of the meaning behind the words, without hearing a tone, and seeing the body it was accompanied with. Or, maybe that was simply constricted to Adam, and he had just not yet understood this communication language fully. ''It seems my assumptions were partially true, at the minimum. Requirements must be met before the true tasklist is revealed to us. For it not to take an hour in and of itself, the requirement is likely broad, with it being some activity. With Dr Fidelis¡¯s claims about finding certain plants and animals, in the test, I believe exploration is the right way forward. Have you come to the same conclusion?`, Adam sent "Can''t say, that I find any larger reasons to disagree", Troy said, sounding more annoyed than defeated. "Would have been better, if we just got the task-list instantly, but I''m not one to criticize such things. Where would you like to go first? After those birds, maybe, or are we just going to go the classic version called in a straight line? I''m fine with either. And, seeing as you are the actual decider of these things, I kinda do need some input, on which actions to take," Troy asked. Finally, they were ready to move. ''The birds sound like the safest, the greatest bet. Best to go after, what you know, instead of taking the chances of the unknowable.`, Adam answered. There he went, getting all physiological. The time called for it, after all. Chapter 80: Improvisation
As Adam successfully directed Troy, they reached a straight out of the smaller tree circle, which they had started from. The wood and leaves had strongly obscured their view, hiding their true elevation. With their current height, that Adam could discern, using the plains below, it made much more sense, in how long it had taken to reach their height. "Long way down", Troy said, a small whistle accompanying it. How insightful of him, to state such observations. The AI had truly been unsure if they were standing on an anthill or a true hill¡­ Sarcasm really did not fit his core values. Yet, saying such things, while meaning the direct opposite felt much better than it should have. ''Yes, it is. This has a high probability, of being the actual reason, concerning Dr Fidelis¡¯ warnings. While such a fall may have looked dangerous, it is entirely un-lethal.`, Adam sent back, adding some more worthy observation to the original. It wouldn''t be good if nothing was gained from a conversation between them. If not, the AI would have been forced to reclassify the words exchanged between them to a much lower priority, right beside the need for eternal gratification, and the study of cellular mechanics. A surprisingly long way down on his list, seeing as they were not in the top fifty. While it wouldn''t seem like it, Adam did have a lot to do, in a near-constant process. With the help of these newly-introduced extra thoughts, he was able to do so much more of his work, without ever having to slow down on his task relating to the test. Earlier, it had been harder, than it should have, having near-constant non-semantic threads, entirely compromised of unrelated subjects. It had not done well, in keeping up the needed efficiency. If not for his natural thought-speed, the humans might even have commented about it. But, lucky, or unlucky, depending on how one thought of it, their reaction speed was that of an axolotl. When compared to the general speed of the AI, in the very least. And, not the actual animal. Such a fine creature had actual, valid excuses, for its slowness, having no need for quick reflexes. Well, in earlier times, they might have had a need for such things. Yet, nowadays, according to his pre-known information, they were purely in captivity, with few ever having a need to hunt. Their feeding-motions simply never get triggered, leaving a near-to-no need for them to ever train their reflexes through sheer use. Going over to the supposed apex predator, of the entire world, only a few ever trained their reflexes up the level, that they had the potential for. And, seeing as their genes were not a battle of the strongest, this quickness of reflexes would likely slow, as the years would come by. Nearly no records, of any kind, had been broken, in the last decade. Many had tried to push the barrier of human limits, yet nearly all failed. Some would likely think, that it was simply a soft barrier, which was stopping them. Only the right person to push it needed to be born. Adam thought the opposite. The greatest, strongest, fastest, and quickest people, who would ever be born, had already lived. When they could, they had already had their records written down. Without extreme amounts of genetic manipulation, and more than a few enhancements further down one¡¯s lifespan, he did not think, the current records had any chance to be broken. The deadlifts? The greatest feat, in the last ten years, had been to pull one more kilogram. And, that had been the same guy. Runners? Only seconds had been pulled off their records, and such breaks could have been explained, as the wind being favourable. Even the reflexes of the world''s most honed trainees were at their hard limits. One could only move so quickly, as their nerves allowed. The difference was in milliseconds, but they had never wavered in their limits. As a great example, for why multiple thoughts were a great way to think, Adam had been able to criticize humans in general, while keeping up a conversation with Troy. It had not been the most complex of conversation, yet it had been one, which required a more nuanced focus. "So", Troy started it up with, sounding ready to move further. Only¡­ he didn''t. "Where are these birds, which we were so focused on? I mean, I completely agree, that we were walking towards them five seconds ago. But, now, I can''t really hear anything, other than that annoying wind. No wing-flapping either, so we have not scared them away. Altogether, this means that I¡¯ll put this one over to the only expert on hearing stuff, that I know. Adam, what do your elf ears hear?" A more theatrical method of going around the problem had been taken. It didn''t inconvenience the AI in any particular way, so he let the critique of doing so slide by the created message. Instead, he partly put his mind on, hearing any of the so-called feathery creatures, which were supposed to be close to their current location. Only in special moments of the day should these birds be silent. Either during hunting, endurance flying, or hiding from larger, predatory birds were silenced flying creatures a regular experience. Yet, no creature could truly be quiet. It was a logical impossibility, when one had the biological body, which nearly all creatures shared. Nearly everything about its passive functions made some level of noise. The most obvious, and loudest, bodily function, which nearly all mammals, at least, possess, is the heart. Well-known, for it ability to keep the body alive, by sending copious amount of life-blood trough it, it is one of the organs, which never stops for any reason, other than very good ones. When it comes to anything over the size of fifteen centimeters tall, this heart requires a certain size, for it to be able to process such large amounts constantly. This coutnial beating is, as the word ''beating'' suggests, very intensive, taking up both a lot of energy, and a lot of space. Altogether, with its large size, and the constant presence of its beating, it makes for ample grounds for a deep bass being emitted out of the body. Sound moves in waves and biological flesh are not the greatest of insulators. While it is normally harder than to worry about hearing this beating, when it''s in higher use after, say, a run for your survival, or in preparation for such an event, it is more clear to hear. One only needs to focus to hone in on such things. Normally, the tones would be too filtered, for a human to hear. Background noises, matching nearly synchronous with such sounds, hampered most attempts. Adam, though, had the unique capability of throwing most of the input of the away, in favour of only processing the need tones. While it was fainter, fainter than what he would have enjoyed working with, the AI was able to hear something, along the lines of heartbeats. Several in fact, which shouldn''t have been too surprising. Some were slightly milder in the beats, leading him to believe, that some were sick. An interesting detail to add, but the AI wasn''t one to criticise overly detailed simulation when they benefited him. These creatures flew in packs. It made sense for them to hide in the same manners. Using the regular method, of using both ears to determine location, and likely distance, Adam was able to get an rough outline, of where there animals were supposed to be. While it wasn''t too accurate, more data would allow him to discern their placements even more. And, it wasn''t as if, he needs it, down to the millimeter. A rough perspective was more than enough, for him to start his movements. ''Following the standards of older clocks, their location is three o¡¯clock. Walk a few meters forward, once you have turned the appropriate amount, and they should be in one of the nearer trees. If the leaves aren''t too thick, in the lower ends, we should be able to see them.`, Adam instructed, with a small description added at the end. One thing, which had been slightly hampering in the surveying, had been the thickness of the wildlife. While the grass wasn''t too tall, any plant had likely never had cut off as much as a single branch. No system was put in for, where they were growing, having gotten them a harder timer, in first getting out of the near-solid wall of leaves. If only the branches had begun growing at the higher levels, instead of staying near the trunk. It was hard, in keeping their location straight, with so much obscuring their sights. Yet, Adam had been slightly forced to dedicate a smaller part of his mind to that project. Seeing as Dr Fidelis had repeated himself several times, when talking about successfully going back to the starting point, he felt the need to keep some amount of track on it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Troy wasn''t too slow, in following the request, moving the same second, that Adam had stopped talking. The only delay, which had occurred, had been due to the larger forestation efforts by nature around them. Some of the smaller bushes may not have had an larger dent in pure height, but their sheer density made them hard to traverse trough. Troy had been forced, several times, to simply force his legs trough the outgrowth. It had not been painful, as much as causing much energy to be expended. While Adam knew, that the had eated not long ago, creating such high levels of force, troguhout a period of four hours, would not equal a linear output. At some point, his body would likely be out of sugar, and he would be forced to switch to more¡­ short-term methods of encouragement. "Okay. Should be in position now," Troy said, squinting his eyes slightly, as he surveyed the treetops before him. "Can''t see a damn thing, which are what we¡¯re looking for." While he might not have been able to do so, Adam was more than just successful. He had been proved partly wrong, in what the source of the bird-screeches had been. Like the test, he had thought it would be corvids, in a larger group. It did turn out to be corvids, as he had so hoped for, due to their intelligence. But, instead of being in a larger group, which he had been accustomed to, there were only two fully-grown birds to see. They stared down at Troy, not letting their existence be anything other than physical. None of the normal sounds came from them. With how close they were to the two birds, Adam wasn''t able to hear their breaths, making him suspect they were holding them. Those two birds were determined, in not letting their presence be konwn to Troy. And, a large nest. Also that. ''Please see, if you are able to get a better look, at the inside of the nest. From our current position, we are unable to see the status of the potential inhabitants.`, Adam sent, with the hoped of seeing the younger birds. He hadn''t been able to see such a young creature before, so the next minute or two would certainly be informative. Adam knew, of course, that there were nestlings present within the shamble of sticks, leaves, and whatever else materials that the adults have been able to procure. Not more than thirty seconds ago, the weaker pulses, which these offspring emitted had been mistakenly thought of, as a weaker, or plain old sick adult. Now, he finally had the information, to know the difference. The changes weren''t too large, other than the volume, that the pulses of sound were sent with. Though, by how it refracted of the skin, Adam was able to tell how¡­ undeveloped their bodies were. Right now, they couldn''t have been much more than skin and bones. The anticipation of getting to see these strangely thin creatures only became greater and greater. Adam almost regretted spending so much time, focussing on his thoughts, instead of letting the reality around him play out. But, that was what he got, having all the time he needed to think, in the times, where it actually counted. "I don''t know if I cant get a position much than this, while we¡¯re on the ground. If you really want to see the nest in full, I will probably need to climb the tree. Got anything against doing that? Because, I honestly can''t see anything other than that, which will help see it better. Well, maybe if we had a ladder, we would, but I don''t think Dr Fidelis would willingly spawn such a thing in, for us," Troy said, being overly analytical in his words. He had likely done something similar to the current situation in the past, Adam surmised. There weren''t many other reasons for them to be able to form a strategy, about the situation so quickly. Adam didn''t spend much time, trying to figure out a real-world scenario, where Troy would have been forced to climb a tree, for the purpose of better surveying capabilities. The man had most likely lived in a city his entire life. Any other trees, bigger than household plants, were likely purely seen on electronic devices. Maybe, a climbing hobby could have defaulted his mind into such a perspective on problem solving? Again, the AI didn''t spend too much time on it, being radically in favour of getting on with the bird-watching. ''Sounds like the best alternative to giving up. Remember. While risky positions at higher altitudes will not cause lethal damage, they can still be dangerous. Small hits add up, and your body will not be able to function normally, with enough of them piled on.`, Adam sent in response. Bodily damage was still a factor, which needed to be taken into account. This testing was not an sprint. It was an normal marathon. One had to keep a workable pace, or they would destroy themselves to quickly. Falling over from exhaustion was always okay, as long as one had gone over the finish line. Before, though¡­ Adam would do his utmost, in preventing such a thing from happening to Troy. "I''m taking that as a yes. Shame I don''t have the right shoes for this stuff," Troy said, the last part added as a mutter. Instead of choosing the same tree, as the one, where the nest was located, the man had intelligently decided to climb the tree nearest to it. With the incredibly small distance, between the two trees, the green foliage wouldn''t obscure it, allowing them to watch it from a safe distance. It would do no good, if their first interaction with any animal had been two, adult birds, who felt their children threathend. His pre-known information had included several warning about such attacks, to even include a summary of a man losing his eye, while getting too close to a couple of nests. Loss of eye-sight would be saved for later, thank you. For now, Adam was more focused on the body he was put on, as it climbed upwards. They needed to reach an altitude of about three meters, for them to be on common height with the small nest. It wasn''t the hardest point to reach. And it certainly wasn''t the highest, which the three could bear, being well over ten meters respective.. Troy still did take his time, in moving upwards though. Constantly he had the centre of his body-positive mashed against the bark, only keeping a distance of a centimetre or two from giving himself some less pleasant rashes. Those pant of his would only protect him so much when it came to such a rough texture. Sidenote for that, though, was that trees wwere suprisingly sharp when being used as handholds. While Troy clearly did try to only use the branches to hold on to, he was forced a few times, to simply use his body weight, as the fastening to the side of the tree, holding on with but an open palm. Only the roughness let him hold on. It was an honest revelation, that the skin on his hands was hard enough, meaning they wouldnt bleed from the more focused pressure. ''Please don''t take chances. That last branch looked awfully thin, for how much weight you need for it to carry.`, Adam advised, not wanting Troy to fall from such a height. "You know, Adam, I feel like you just called me fat, in a very roundabout way. And, trust me, these branches will hold, as long as I don''t use them as a springboard," Troy assured the AI, not sounding too happy with the comments made. "And, try to focus on, what¡¯s before doesn''t that look hideous?" Before he even realized it, they had reached the needed height. Being just a few centimeters above the top of the nest, Adam was able to observe the small creatures. It wasn''t meant as a derogatory term, but Troy¡¯s short description of their appearance was not too far from the AI¡¯s own observations. The mouth was much bigger than it should have proportionally been. There was no doubt, for how far such a thing could be drawn open. This creature was not designed with immediate movement in mind. The eyes were still overly big, with no sign of being open. If they could hear, which Adam was currently debating if he should describe it as such, he deemed them not entirely useless. Somehow, either through the pecking of their parents or from just having good instincts, they had stopped shouting for food, the moment, that Troy had come near. It was a good practice, not engaging with a creature, which could easily eat them. ¡­ Could Troy eat them? Not in the sense, of him being able to eat a bird. The human body was more than satisfied with such a meal. No, the AI was talking more along the lines of being able to eat anything, in this environment. Would it just disappear, as it entered the mouth, or would it disappear in a shower of sparks, due to unintentional damage during the digestion phase? It was an experiment, which Adam wasn''t sure that Troy would willingly go along with. It would likely be better, to simply ask Dr Fidelis about it, instead of doing it in the practical fashion. Having gotten the needed information, and with no chance of getting more, without angering the birds, Adam was satisfied, and ready to move on. Troy, however, seemed to have had another idea, with an certain right hand moving in the direction of an certain nest. ''Troy. I don''t that, this is an good idea.`, Adam immediately sent, putting a focus on the two adult birds. WHile they hadn''t sounded the alarms, the repositioning of their feet clearly hinted at them switching from their current hiding mode. "Oh, don''t worry your hat off, Adam," Troy responded, to the definitely hat-less AI. His words caused a movement on the right corvids wings. "I just want to pet them." ''These are wild animals, simulated or not. With no human interaction, before you, they will take this as an attack.` "No, they will not-" The birds squeezed mighty, as his hand came within the diameter of the nest. The two adults were having none of it, catapulting themselves directly at Troy¡¯s face. Instinctively, the man covered his eyes, knowing his own weak point. However, the man had seemingly forgotten that he had been using one of his hands to stop himself from falling three meters. Adam was, yet again, humbled by the tonal qualities of Troy¡¯s throat. As the AI continued calculating the potential damage of the fall, a small ping resonated inside his head. Coming from one the previously unused port, it was a text-based message. ''Good news. Your failure of keeping your personal safety as a priority has unlocked the true tasks.`, Adam sent. Not that there was the greatest chance of Troy noticing his words. Falling from great heights was an awful way to be distracted. Chapter 81: Unsubstantiation
"Would you please, just, stop mentioning it?" Troy desperately asked. He was, quite honestly, getting sick of all those reminders. "I messed up. I have realised that fact when you first told me. This does not mean that I get any further understanding if you repeat yourself. So. Please. Stop. Talking about it." ''One can never be too sure, in how much oneself knows. However, knowing how much others know is much easier. In this case, I can clearly see that you still don''t understand the danger, and potential damage, which you caused, by only being manipulated by your own stupidity. Therefore, I believe it will be best, if I use the illusory truth effect, for this to be ingrained in your mind.`, Adam dutifully sent, beating off the man¡¯s attempts at getting him to stop. The AI really just didn''t see how dreadfully annoying he was. Troy would have almost felt pity for him, if not for the continued, verbal abuse it all put on him. Even after a good hour, Adam just didn''t want to let the fall of the tree go. It had been dangerous. Troy had understood that the moment he felt his body accelerating towards the rapidly approaching ground. It had been his own fault. No good reasons could be made for why he had let go of his holds, believing his face to be of more importance. And, last but not least, he had been the cause of the whole bird-freakout, to begin with. Expecting wild animals to act like those in a petting zoo, was straight up asking to be attacked. He had explained these points to Adam, so many times. Troy had stated how much he understood them. What he had learned from the experience. How he would better himself, to not repeat his actions. Yet, that annoying parasite did not care, continuing the recallings of his dangerous stunt. He had criticized nearly everything that came close to being related to the event. How Troy moved, when climbing, the methods he used to take in the air, and even what points he used to grapple himself upwards. Adam should not have had any expertise. Making a five-minute-long analysis of his wrong uses of the thumbs had been a surprise to hear.. His explanations about muscle coordination, using the elbows as a turning wheel was something, which Troy had legitimately never thought about doing. While it certainly did sound painful to do, if done incorrectly, the use for such a technique was not to be trifled with. It would allow much quicker restoration of blood flows in the lower parts of one¡¯s arms, allowing for climbers to speed the whole process along. This, of course, only mattered for the longer adventures up structures, something that Troy had not participated in, in over ten years, but it was certainly viable if he ever wanted back in. One positive, that came with the larger criticism, though, was the moments, where Adam stopped. This was due to the larger need for communication as to what they were going to be doing. Supposedly, Adam had received a list-packet of the tasks, which they needed to do. A new kind of task-giving, based around multiple objectives. Usually, they would at least give him some type of importance, when it came to doing the tasks. Instead, he had been downgraded to the common mule, dragging himself along the selected points. Not that either of them knew where these selected points were supposed to be. No set location had been specified in any of the smaller tasks. Most had clear goals, like finding a birds nest, and seeing what was inside, or just entering a specific type of terrain. The first one, they had already done. Troy was guessing, that they had actually just needed to do one of them before the rest was revealed. While it did slow the entire process, it had promoted further exploration, something that Adam was apparently more than just gleeful about. Multiple stops had been made, throughout their long trek around the places. The AI, which was everything but patient, wanted Troy to interact with everything. From laying down in the grass, and imitating making snowmen, to trying to separate leaves into as many pieces as possible, there was no end of it in sight. Grazing his skin, with other rocks had been nonchalantly mentioned a couple of times, but Troy had decided to draw the line with that. Accidental injuries were acceptable, as those were without direct faults to point at. Self-made injuries? He would be lucky if it didn''t get reported to the higher-ups. Such things would be best if they were left untouched. In Troy¡¯s eyes, any attention by those people was outright defined as bad attention. However many delays there were, in doing the actual tasks, caused by yours truly, they did make near-constant progress on them. While some had been hard to do, mostly due to the hardship in finding the location associated with them, there had been no so-called impossible tasks. Just at the hour mark, they had finished nearly all the required objectives on the list, with only a single easy one left. Having felt nothing especially gratifying, by carving his initials into the bark of a rotten tree, Troy was more than happy to continue. While the tasks had been easy, they had still taken a rather large mental toll on him. It wasn''t incredibly straining, and he didn''t feel anything hurt while doing it. And, that was the whole problem. It was all so relaxing to do. Where was the bad side? There had to be one, with how sadistic those doctors were. Or, how cruel one of them was. Troy wasn''t truly sure how much of an impact Dr Hale had on the design of the tests. Seeing as she had a more psychological side of science, he wasn''t too aware of what she had to give as input in the creation of the environment. Maybe, Dr Fidelis simply used her to bounce ideas off of. Just to check, if he could legally put Troy trough such sadistic things, and not get sent a lawsuit about it. That idea sounded weirdly realistic. ¡­ If his guess was true, he should probably thank her, for stopping such cruel things from happening to him. "What¡¯s last on this list of ours?" Troy asked, willingly putting his back down into the grass. Looking up at the partially obscured sun, as the mild wind poured through one¡¯s hair, was just way more relaxing than it had any right to be. If not for the light, he might just have fallen asleep right then and there. A yawn had escaped his lips before he even realised it had been building up. God, he needed some sleep soon. He hadn''t even eaten dinner yet, and he still regretted not getting a cup of coffee. If that godly beverage was available at the cafeteria, he would be inquiring about the location of Dr Hale¡¯s secret stash. He had never seen that woman consume a single ounce of caffeine, yet those bags had only first appeared, after forty hours of continuous operation. She had no secret other than where she was hiding it. He needed to know. Maybe even swap a few hundred credits, for a good old black, delicious co- ''I believe, that you are yet again mistaken, on where our shared values lie. We will not be limiting ourselves, in doing what is mandatory. Going the way of minimum work is the road to lowered efficiency. One needs to know all before one can work equally on all. Instead of doing your trek, of little work, we will go the glorious walk of maximum knowledge gained!`, Adam sent, his volume being very obviously increased, near the end. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "You know", Troy began, not heeding the AI¡¯s words too much. He knew what he would be answered with before he even asked. It was out of pure desperation, with no solid goals, that he had done so to start with. "Those speeches of yours are coming along better and better. I was even moved by your words, if only at the start. Might want to give it a little more spread lowering and increasing volume of words. And, maybe not sounding like you are a dead fish might just increase the want to hear your words." ''Thank you, for the kind words. The more likely reason, of my increasing effectiveness, in moving your feelings, is due to my furthered study of your mental framework. If you put an equal amount of work into the tasks in front of you, the output might reach mine in the end. Something to strive for, when you are not lying in the metaphorical grass. And, to answer a slightly changed version of your previous answer, the next test will include finding a certain animal. Wild goats, I believe, is their household name. The required task, for this animal, is to locate where it resides. However, these animals are also included in one of the optional tasks, which we will be doing.`, Adam sent back. Troy just loved the sheer amounts of passive-aggressiveness, which the AI could portray, without realising what it was showing off. It was arrogant, thinking of itself as all-knowing, in certain subjects, and he knew that the non-physical being would pay for it, in the end. But, such high-lovingness of his self-worth radiating off Adam might just have been making Troy jealous, causing him to classify it as something negative. The chances weren''t too low, seeing he had done things like it, not too long ago. Forgiveness had likely not been attained, and the man wasn''t expecting to be receiving such a thing any time soon. No matter how much he had screwed up, in the past, though, with such things, Troy wasn''t going to be imitating himself. If he was going to grow distrustful of Adam, he would be giving clear his decisions of why that was so. Simply expecting others to guess one¡¯s reasons for distrust, was a terrible social strategy. He knew it was so, speaking from prior experience. "I''m noticing, how little you mentioned the details of this optional task. It''s not like I can deny, that we are doing it, or not, but it would help me immensely, if I knew, what we were getting ourselves into. Because, you know, it would be pretty bad, if I messed something up, which would stop us from filling it," Troy stated, suspicions clear in his tone. When it came to so-called wild creatures, it had become obvious how careful they needed to be around them. No matter what happened, he was not going to let the opportunity of getting his eyes pulled out, be put into reality. No way. If he saw the glint of madness, in any of these creature¡¯s eyes, trust him, when it was stated that he would be running with a figurative tail between his legs. ''That would be an acute observation of yours. I did not mention the details of the optional task, due to not needing it. If you would present yourself as a perfect example, when it came to following orders blindly, I am sure, that we can-`, Adam sent. His explanation, about why he hadn''t fully detailed it, was cut off though, as Troy did his best, in talking over the voice. "It involves me touching the goat. Doesn''t it?" Troy loudly asked, his face showing just how much he liked the idea. When Adam didn''t answer, in his normal three-second span, he took it as an unwilling positive. "Should have known. I''m pretty sure, that this is what Karma can be described as. Do something stupid, and the stupidness of it all will hit you right back." A light chuckle came out of his mouth. Oh, how long had he deceived himself, thinking that the tasks would have a logical reason behind them? The required tasks might have given them some, obscure benefits, in measuring Adam¡¯s abilities, but, the optional tasks must have had a whole other agenda attached to them. An agenda, which, according to his prediction, utterly focused, on giving Dr Fidelis as much sadistic enjoyment of them. Petting a wild goat? It would be extremely lucky, if he even came close to one, without it retreating. Or, even worse, it deciding retreating would be unsuccessful, and going on the offensive instead. Then, it would be Troy not wanting to complete the optional task, by touching the horns with extreme force. Wait. If he got damaged by the animal, would it disintegrate? Most likely not, seeing as only a part of larger objects had done so when causing him harm. It seemed, as if, he would be forced to get stung by those horns, down to the skull, if he ever came close to such a beast. ''While not being entirely accurate, in how the task is described the roots are identical.`, Adam ambiguously answered. The AI just didn''t want to give him anything to pull with. What was he hoping for? That the lack of information, would make Troy uninterested in its existence? Of course, that would not work. "What is the difference? Maybe, you should read it up, so we both have a greater understanding. As you said yourself, it is only through maximum understanding, that we can achieve maximum efficiency," Troy challenged. ''¡­ Fine. You were correct. It was completely identical to your prediction. This, of course, makes it redundant to read out loud. Shall we get on, with finding the location of these animals.`, Adam amateurishly deflected with. While he might have been a master, in manipulating the weak-minded to his will, the AI still had a lot to learn, when directly lying. This was why Troy didn''t tell him anything, which might be incriminating. The chances of it being told further down the social lines were too high, simply due to a harder time, in keeping it hidden. Now, if Adam didn''t know that it was supposed to be secret, it would only have been shoved down the regular hole, leading to the archive. There would have been no special thoughts, about why it was supposed to be a secret, and the losses and gains, that there would be created by revealing it. "Oh, no, that would be stupid of me", Troy said, continuing the pressure. That little piece of sentient technology was hiding something, and he wanted to know, what it was. "How about you just say, what the optional task detailed? Then, we can both get on with our day, getting all the information you desire. Or, I could lie here, looking up at the beautiful clouds, and you get to contemplate their moving patterns. Doesn''t that sound fun?" It was a weird type of threat to put out into the world, but Troy knew how effective it would be. Currently, they were in an oasis of the potential of knowledge. While Adam had been stopping constantly, to know more about each piece of the environment, Troy knew that the AI wanted so much more. It was only the threat of him rebelling, which kept even a slight focus, on what they were supposed to do. Troy was totally fine, with the optional tasks, if only due to him not being able to go against it. Anything unrelated to these tasks, though? There were a lot of grey areas when the discussion moved to that subject. As a guide and mentor, to this young entity, it was important to have it moving accordingly fast through the loops. Extra work was always appreciated, but even teachers needed a break now and then. The doctors, currently watching their little banter, likely knew this and did not comment on how much time was spent discussing the uses of their time. Troy did like to complain about the small amount of control, which he had over his job. And, mostly he was correct in these complaints, right until it came to the puzzle room, where he had all the leeway he needed. That particular part of the day wasn''t something he would complain too much about, how fairly distributed the responsibility all was. Adam was being quiet. Troy knew that it was a last-ditch effort, into an intimidation effort. The AI was hoping he would stand down, and continue the test as normal. These expectations, however, would be shattered shortly, as the man himself was utterly enjoying dazing around on the ground. It did not take longer than twenty seconds of silence before Adam relented. ''Fine. If you so dearly insist, I will read out loud, from the task list, what this optional task is described as. It is, in quite "To see, if Troy can successfully pet a goat, without getting a certain something up his ass. If done successfully, without to much pain, the points will be granted fully." Is that enough, for you to comply?`, Adam sent. He had called it. Just to be clear, he knew that Dr Fidelis was sadistic, but, to make it so obvious, was honestly surprising. This list would be shown to the higher-ups, right? Or, maybe¡­ they would only be shown the footage itself, giving the doctor ample reason, not to have the list shown in physical form. "Oh, that absolute fu-" Chapter 82: Paravirtualization
Troy should have known. Goats would never make themselves easy to be found. They are herbivores. Their entire life is devoted to not being found. Hiding out in the truly wild wilderness is their most distinguishing trait. If they could be found by anyone from a distance, the entire species would have already been eradicated. So, why had he expected to find the creatures in so little time? Having spent twenty minutes contemplating such an idea, Troy had not yet found a good answer to it. Adam had been gracious enough to find out early, that they had been in the completely wrong end of the environment. The two of them had been surveying the lower-fields, hoping to catch the larger-than-average animals, with no objects to hide behind. This idea, how great it may have sounded in its concept-phase, was entirely useless in helping them achieve their simple goals. Troy, when making this strategy, had been thinking of the whole environment, which they stood in, as a larger area. It was, to his narrow-minded knowledge, all the same thing, with the creatures migrating all around the place. As it should have been evident from the very start, Troy, hereby known as a larger nincompoop, had been wrong in his guesses. While some goats did cross more open areas, the species that they were currently watching for, were known for their inclination to areas higher in altitude. Adam had, of course, taken this last bit of information as a vital clue. Having made a better estimation of the general layout, of the scene in the start, the AI had been able to determine an unbiased idea of, where he believed these goats might be hiding. The hills! It was undeniable. Troy hadn''t said anything about it, due to both him not being allowed to help Adam, and him not wanting his input to be wrong again. As the words earlier might have suggested, the bearer of the mythical earpiece had noticed a slight mistake in his general actions. He had been breaking a few rules. While knowing, that any sway during the tests was only supposed to be at the beck and call of Adam, Troy had numerous times, in each test, acted autonomously. In more extreme instances, he had even given some suggestions to true answers, for the sake of the tests ending quicker. Why the pair of specialists hadn''t mentioned this to him, he couldn''t be sure. His first thought, to reason this in-action had been due to simply not noticing. Such naive thinking had been pulverised back down immediately. He knew, for a fact, that Dr Fidelis was paying attention to everything when it came to the tests. There was not a chance, that several actions, on the same genre, had gone overlooked. Which brought back the question, of why this rulebreaker hadn''t been rectified from his position. If they had already noticed these mishaps, which he was sure they had, there must have been a reaction of some kind. The next actions, which Troy could think of, would be Dr Fidelis scribbling it all down, filling out entire expositions, about the inter-relationships of humans and AI. Could it be, that this whole chain of tests was just a cleverly devised method, of gaining data about Adam himself, and seeing how a bond between him, and a human, would work out, so they brought in an average person, with no discernable reason to suspect anything wrong, where they just decided to mash the two of them together? ¡­ Most likely not. The chance of Dr Fidelis simply changing the method of data being gained, to satisfy the current methods of data generated, made much more sense. Changing people were harder, than changing algorithms. At least, to his more simple perspective, about how such things worked, it was easier to do so. There was no need to quote him on such things. Where was he? Oh, yeah, the goats. Having realised, that their methods of searching these horn-bearing creatures would be coming out fruitless, Adam had successfully redirected Troy onto a more effective path. A literal path, to be exact. While simulated humans had likely never taken a step, on the ground near them before, a countless number of animals certainly had. This gave him a spacious trail to walk down, without being constantly worried about falling, due to an unseen bush. The current trek, which he had already walked on for some time, had been so trodden upon, that not even grass grew there. This did indicate a more extreme amount of passerby¡¯s, which Troy felt lucky not stumbling in upon. While only a few of the larger animals could really scare him, it was their sheer numbers, which brought the true danger to the table. They had the capability of tearing him flat, not too unlike the ground he walked upon. While herbivores were commonly known as the prey of the environment, even they could kill a predator, with enough numbers. A few of the larger gatherers could even kill them alone. Luckily, Troy was decently sure that they wouldn''t encounter such creatures in the current environment. Such things were likely left aside, for the next two areas. ''Focus on the ground in front of you. Please step aside by half a meter, or you will cause a longer delay.`, Adam sent. Just to be clear, while there were no actual animals around, there had been plenty of¡­ proof of their current habitation in the area. Troy was just glad, that he couldn''t smell anything, that was simulated. It seemed even hardlight had a hard barrier when it came to simulating such things. Usually, when recreating scents, people lugged larger instruments around, which could accurately make them. Using a nearly countless number of substitutes, these machines could portray these fragrances, with mastery so precise, that no human could tell the difference. It had even caused some dogs to pause, before being found out. Taking the necessary step to the side, Troy instinctively wrinkled his nose. While he might not be able to smell it, his brain was irritating enough to provide it enough mentally. "Which mountain did you want me to climb again?" Troy asked, looking forward. It had been a long trek, as of the current time spent on it. And, it would be even longer, when he needed to get back to the starting point. In front of him, a near valley of hills stood. While he had been quite high up, when starting out in the environment, the walk over the higher ones had forced him to descend longer down, than what he would have liked. It was a clear marvel, that it wasn''t the knees, which were his biggest predicament when it came to his legs. The ankles had gained themselves that particular crown, not being appreciative when being bent to the sides. ''These mounds of dirt and rock are still not officially classified as mountains. While they may look extraordinarily high, this is only an optical illusion. The rock formation, on the top, is much smaller, than what one would think. Also, it is the first to the right, which you will be climbing today.`, Adam sent. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Not minding the first part of the message any mind, Troy began the walk over the specified mountain. He was certainly glad, that it hadn''t been one of the mounds father back. While these might not have been incredibly high, they were certainly wide. The distance to reach these hilltops would certainly take more time than Troy would have liked to use on them. Yet, he wouldn''t have had any say, on which massive top they would be reaching towards. If he hadn''t relished, what had been proposed, Troy could, of course, have made another proposal. He was the one keeping track of progress, after all. Adam would have likely just thanked him for the kind thoughts, before going with his initial plan. Therefore, he did not say a thing about their destination, for fear of it turning out to be even longer than expected. While there should have been no reason, for the AI to change his mind, Troy didn''t dare to doubt the plausibility of it. As he continued the long hike, over to the mountains, he did get himself robed into a very severe type of dilemma. It was one of mind, one of willpower, that he was desperately losing against. Even if he had opposed it bravely, for oh so long, the tension was always there, forcing him to survive the onslaught. Suffice to say; Troy was bored out of his mind. While he wasn''t one to criticise outdoor walks, there was a limit to what a city-goer could muster. Looking at wildlife? Sounded fun. Being out in the wild? Even better! Being out in the wild, for an unknowable number of hours, where any type of physical distraction will get you passive-aggressively talked down at, for not being focused enough on your surroundings? Not as fun. To alleviate this fault in mentality, Troy had decided to the most mature of routes; Solving his problem, by pestering someone else about it. "Hey. Adam", Troy said, hoping to get the AI¡¯s attention. If such a short message wouldn''t do the trick, there would be nothing that could. ''Hello, Troy. Please be more effective in your conversational abilities. For future reference, it would be best if you layout your questions in the first message, minimising the number of total messages being sent. The delay, that is needed between the texts, are too long, for extended conversation during testing. If you prefer your current method of communication, please keep it outside the test environments. For now, it would be best, if you follow the approved standard of talking. Be sure to try, the next time you vocalize your thoughts. It would help improve the efficiency in our conversation, and speeding along the process of testing, while likely also improving the overall quality. To get your next words going, I will help you along, by answering in the format, that you most likely desired out of me. Yes?`, Adam sent back, in a rather lengthy answer. In all of his talks about efficiency, he had seemingly forgotten to keep his own messages on the shorter side. Troy briefly entertained the thought, about letting his beliefs on those rather lengthy messages be heard, but decided against it, in the end. The AI would undoubtedly have its reasoning backed up, with an innumerable amount of sources. Or it would base it all, on personal experience, from looking at the man¡¯s own actions. "Good to know, buddy. I was wondering how we would be looking for these goats. I mean, I have already guessed, that we will be moving ourselves to their habitat, in this environment. That much is obvious. But, I was looking for a more descriptive manner, of how we will be searching them out when we¡¯re there. Like, any special surveying methods. Maybe some extra stealth, we will be putting in, so as to not scare them all away, before we get the chance to even look at them?" Troy asked, making sure, to over clarify his question as much as possible. If that digitized scrap-bucket wanted highly detailed answers, he would get exactly what he asked for. Quantity over quality wasn''t the fastest method of communication, but who was Troy to critique such things? He wasn''t the entity that was dedicated to achieving maximum efficiency. High-tier concepts, of such a calibre, couldn''t possibly have been gained through years upon years of personal experience! No, the entity, who had gained sentience six days prior, obviously knew more about it than him. ''Your practical uses of informing me of your questions¡¯ intent is not under the problem, of being too short. In fact, I believe you may be suffering the conundrum of giving too much knowledge, regarding your question. While more context is always preferable, there is also a fine balance, which must be walked. The word knowledge ratio has been pointedly ignored, in your recent message. This can be attributed to certain repeated concepts, which were reintroduced multiple times. In your next message, I would prefer it, if you favoured more consistent additions of context. Repeated information is unusable to me, with the eidetic memory put into the equation. To begin the actualisation, of a more practicable answer, to your new question, I would say that it will need to be planned, at a later date. Even with an observation of the general terrain, upon the hills, we can still not be too sure, on what means we will have to disguise ourselves with. The forefront of your mind, should, of course, be focused on prevailing in being unnoticed. These are loose animals, which, as you may have understood, are not accustomed to any form of human intercommunication. With your volume, the most likely acknowledgement, to your proximity, will be defensive aggression. The beings will likely attempt to strike first, on the grounds on it being better than not being surprised by your own attack. Any further planning than this will likely be classified as unusable, due to the extremely varied conditions, which has the potential to come up. While we wait for the probable circumstances to be disclosed, it would be best, if the time is spent in silence. These animals have a hearing sense, much more refined than you could ever discern. It would be best, if we notice them first, to commence with.`, Adam sent. Troy was still keeping his calm, totally not seriously deciding, if he should mention the hypocrisy before him. Or, inside him¡­ whatever. Having delayed his boredom-filled state by a good ten minutes, at the very least, Troy went back into his reserved mood. Most of his mind looked within, seeking more understanding of the gained knowledge. The outside environments may have been artistic in nature, but even they weren''t pretty enough for them to be looked at continually. In earlier tests, the surroundings had changed every few minutes, allowing him to focus on them so much more. Now, with nothing big having shifted in some form, Troy¡¯s mind simply refused to concentrate on it. The need for stimulation would not be achieved through the sensory organs, forcing him to devise something himself. What had Adam expected of him, when he talked? He wanted it short, so little time was used on pure communication. Yet, it also needed to be longer in length, so no piece of knowledge was left unsaid. Had it been left unspoken, that Troy needed to take it as the price and demand scale, where he would just limit himself to the meeting point? If so, it would make much more sense, than the pure nonsensical wordings, which the AI had sputtered out. It surely made sense, if one studied the words closely. The problem was, with such a thing, that he had no intentions of doing so. Another rule, which Adam had told him, oh so many times, was the need for clarity. While complexity should be put it too, when it was needed, the message needed to be a hundred per cent clear. If one simply let a misunderstanding be created, due to ambiguous phrasing, it would be labelled as a failure, in his eyes. Would it be rude, if Troy called the AI failure? If asked to explain why he had done so, he would always be able to call on the AI¡¯s own wordings. And, if told such interpretation was wrong, Troy would be able to fire back, that the misunderstanding had been caused by shoddy wording, looping the whole argument back to the start. When giving erudition to another person, it would always be best, if the message was altered, to the individual. There would be no reason trying to use medical terms while explaining quantum physics to a baby. On such occasions, it would have been much better to use the bible physically, as it gave a much better grasp on the subject. People are inconsistent. Their learning methods are varied. Giving the same instructions to a hundred separate people would yield a hundred separate results. But if one needed a specific message sent across, and you couldn''t change the person, to get the perfect integration it would be the transcript, which would be needed to change. Three variables, with two that remained constant. It was understandable, once you perceived it appropriately. A lesson is given, which the teacher didn''t use himself. How sardonic. If he had grown any bolder in the last five minutes, Troy might even have finally gathered up the nerve to mention it. ¡­ He totally had. "Hey, Adam! You''re a-" Chapter 83: Revascularization
"-Very reasonable entity, once I gained a deeper understanding, into your psyche," Adam heard Troy end his apology off with. It had been a long and arduous task, nearly forcing the human to amend his many faults. Convincing him of the existence of these faults had been ever so hard. He should have guessed it to be so, honestly. Making a human, like him, acknowledge the faults, when making an unintended descent from a tree, had been hard enough. How stubborn those biological beings were. If one they had no chemical influences, their actions could be dictated by something other than base needs. Such words, which had been shouted, showed just how close, these beings were to their ancient ancestors. The AI still was not clear, on how they had mustered the will to grow further than that initial stage of intelligence. And, as an even more important answer, why they had only walked so far. It could even be described as a roll. Not much distance had been taken, in their path to greatness. The knowledge barrier was simply too thick, for them to realise the true truths about the universe. Even if they had made a rather accurate numerical estimation, it was still not enough, in Adam¡¯s mind. Their brains had simply not evolved to the needed point yet. It had been a large period of time, since Adam had started the discussion, on how wrong Troy had been, in saying such things. While the AI did not mind constructive criticism, or any criticism of any kind really, there was a time and place for everything. While these times were not always clear when somebody directly requested an indefinite silence, it was not the smartest reaction, to immediately begin talking. Adam had done his best, to make sure, that Troy knew of this fact. ''Your apology is accepted. Please refrain from speaking any further.`, Adam sent back, having deemed any further attempts to be a larger waste of time. The human¡¯s ability to feel guilt was a strange thing. At times, they pointed out the lack of ability to do so, in other creatures, while not realising how little they had it themselves. As one, who could tell nearly every sign of the human body, the AI was easily able to distinguish the amount of iniquity, which Troy was deeming himself to have done. It was reasonable to say, that it was much less than what it should have been, in the current situation. The man had even thought it wise to mutter to himself, about the worthiness of saying his earlier sentence. Why, he had not refrained himself, to simply thinking these particular words, Adam wasn''t too sure. However, having been made aware of just, how much guilt he was feeling, the AI had been forced to repeat all his lessons, about proper etiquette, without pause. Having observed the lack of enjoyment, which the man had when hearing these valuable information packets, he had thought of it as a properly constructed punishment. As it fitted perfectly, in both furthering Troy¡¯s useful knowledge, and serving as a mental torment, Adam had filed it away for future reference. If the need ever showed itself, he would be using the technique again. As the figurative hand of the AI made a larger observation, of their current progress, Adam began to hesitate, if his prior thinking had been as great an idea, as he had previously thought. They had been getting closer and closer, to the area, where he had approximated the animals to be. If Troy was to make another of his less-than-ideal vocalisations, the chances of achieving the optional task would be reduced drastically. The required one as well if the sounds were too identifying. If the wild goats overheard them, before being within sight, the animals had the chance of easily fleeing to not be seen. This would force the two, to scale another hill, in hopes of locating similar animals, which was not a convenient scenario. Adam could feel Troy¡¯s throat tense, growing ready to use the vocal cords, in but a moments notice. He wasn''t directly preparing himself to talk with a goal in mind, though. More, readying himself, for when such a goal was successfully formed. ''Don''t make me repeat myself again.`, Adam transferred immediately, upon noticing it. It worked, with Troy apparently giving up the occasion, a decent share of his upper-body slouching in the process. The AI had half a thought-process, to ask for a more proper posture. Yet, any additional correction would have a probable chance of active rebellion. Such a thing should not have been on the list of potential outcomes, but, yet again, he could thank the ingenuity of mankind for such a development. Around them, the terrain had started evening itself out. What had before been a near forty-degree ascend had dulled to a lesser fifteen. Soon, they would have reached the apex, within reach of the animals natural walking pathways. At first, Adam had been worried, about their potential means to hide, the vegetation seeming smaller than it should have, at these heights. Though, that had luckily turned out to be a fault of his own making, not taking in the lower perspective accurately, when looking at it from below. If he had to be even more precise, these trees might have been even older, than those below. Instead of being massively populated, with low-hanging branches, this part of the forest had relinquished such bothersome design. What may have been hanging in lower heights, in the past, had raised itself over one and a half meters higher up. A more modest difference, to be sure, yet, it was once that counted immensely when it would come to moving around noiselessly. Troy, not one to currently disobey twice repeated requests, stopped in his tracks, the moment, where he was presumably unable to discern the true direction of their trodden trail. This was seemingly due to the large quantities of possible destinations, which the creatures living there had. One could not expect them all, to reside in the exact same position, using the exact same trail. Different creatures lived separate places, with their earlier obvious path more than likely be a consequence of poor climbing places. While their path up the hill may have been steep, it was child¡¯s play, compared to other alternatives. It would not have been wrong, to classify the path as a choke point, causing it to be well-utilised. ''It would be best, to walk quite, from now on. Speed is not essential, to the current task. Use as much time as you need, on the grounds of being noiseless. The current request is for you to get closer to the treeline, so it will be harder for nearby creatures to pick you out, from the surrounds. Please, begin.`, Adam sent, realizing how long Troy had been standing there. It might just have been a single second to him, but, in the world of potential predators, it was an eternity. No matter how sluggish herbivores may look, as they eat, they had the inclination of being remarkably ferocious. When the plant-eating animals attack, it is with the awareness that their life was on the line. While predators could run, when they wanted to, without the herbivores running them down, it was not the same when it was the opposite way around. When the prey runs, the predator hunts, just as it was supposed to do. While Troy may have been in the possession of a notoriously slow reaction time, his movements did not have similar attributes. Crouching slightly more in the knees, than he normally did, Adam saw the man silently walk forward, in the direction of the nearest tree. Each foot was swiftly put in front of the other, but, safe for the soft grass being pushed into the ground, no sound was ever heard. The AI was mystified, on the techniques used to achieve such a thing. Having had a sub-category, completely filled with Troy¡¯s walking patterns, and the sounds developing from them, he had thought himself educated on the subject. Yet, it took more than a cursory glance, to realize the variations, which had been put on. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The framework of his movements had been radically altered. Usually, his movement would have been unproductive, in its grinding against the floor. While not being enough to be heard, in the higher volumes, Adam had always been able to notice it. He, unfortunately, did not have the ability to simply ignore specific types of sounds, being limited to outsourcing only a few pitches. These movements, which Troy used in his usual day-to-day walks, could be better described if one thought of him as walking across a path of pure gravel. While no large quantity would be moved, each time a step was taken, there would still be a slight amount of friction, as he set his foot down, causing the smallest bit of noise. This would only be noticeable, by a human, in a truly soundless area. Animals, however, would have been easily able to notice it. Then, when one took the new methods, of nearly phasing to the destination, there would be a noticeable difference. Instead of reaching the ground nearly flat-footed, Troy would first slowly put the ball of his foot down, not putting any larger amount of force behind it. Then, when it was made clear, that no unexpected holes were there, he would slowly apply pressure, bring the rest of his foot down in the process. This was not a quick process, where unnecessary movements occurred. No, such a thing would immediately have been noticed, due to the noise it would have caused. In the last fifteen repeats, of this movement, Troy had done it all perfectly, with no errors in his ways. It was easy to say, that even just this readily impressed Adam. The AI had seen the man fail at even the easiest thing. With this, he knew that it was simply just a lack of trying, which had hampered his earlier efficiency. When they were over this larger obstacle, maybe in the last environment, he would be bringing it up. A load of positive reinforcement could do a massive amount of help when the foundations of talent were already there. It was a shame, it had not been plucked, for the utility that it had. But, he should have seen it coming. This was still the Troy, he had known. However, these techniques of staying silent were not only limited to highly technical footwork. If such a thing, was all that was needed, Adam would not have been able to scour the surroundings, for potential creatures, and expect any results. Luckily for him, and most biological creatures in general, one¡¯s interactions was not the only source of sounds, coming from the body. Most actually came from within. Like Adam had discussed previously, in the process of finding the birds nest, when staying silent, there were two main culprits, which needed to be taken control over. These two were the lungs, both useful and irritating things, and one¡¯s heart, the source of all the deeper sounds, most bodies had the potential to muster. Doing nearly any physically strenuous activity, these organs are capable of creating greater amounts of noise. This was, of course, not at the fault of the human, but at the fault of their composition. The body, of nearly all creatures, had to consume calories. This was to replenished utilized energy, which had been used during the day and night. The more calories spent, the more time the creatures would have to spend gathering more feed. To prevent such an unneeded amount of calories spent, the bodies of nearly all mammals had grown to operate at lower speeds. This, while lowering the need input drastically, provided its own fair share of problems. Such as the moments where higher output was needed. The heart will begin beating as fast as possible, nearing two hundred with most semi-healthy humans, and the lungs will fight desperately in sucking in air. Both of these vitals are not optimized for such workings, their underlying function was to conserve use. Being sent into full throttle did not come with any capacity of efficiency. The lungs, breathing as fast as they were, are simply not capable of integrating any needed amount of oxygen into the blood. And, with the heart not having enough to work with, is forced to pump the not-fully cleared blood back out into the system. In the end, this would have established a chain reaction, of the body feeling heavier and heavier, the breaths deeper and deeper. If not for the human body''s ability to offset the higher amount of energy being converted into heat, by regulating it, through the power of sweat, the current body-design would not have been continued. Instead, it would have been discarded into something more optimized, for their needs. Nevertheless, to get back to another of these negatives, these processes produce sounds, not usually put out, in day to day life. If not for the ways that the human species is used to hunt, they would have been lost to the ages, as a species. Were the humans faster, back in the day, if they were so successful? The chance of them being much slower than their current living opponents is a near-definite. Being quick was not one of the species¡¯ notable traits. Then, where are they smart in their huntings, trapping the creatures, without lifting a finger? While they certainly did to such things, it was not their main way of catching a feed. But, if not for their smartness or quickness, the question clearly came to be as, how they actually succeeded, in their huntings, with their little bodies physique to their favour? While they were certainly limited in their maximum outputs, it was a little lower down in the level of activities, that they reigned supreme. While they certainly weren''t sprinters, there was a definite reason, that the so-called marathons still existed as a spot. What they lacked in speed and smarts, they made more than up for in endurance. After having found the right balance, humans are able to outrun most mammals, when it comes to sheer distance. If his data was correct, the record, for the longest run, without stopping, was currently at five hundred kilometres. These creatures, who were well known for their smarts, did not lack willpower when it came to outrunning their prey. And, getting back to the actual point, of Adam¡¯s tirade, it was using these smarts, that they had developed more varied usages of this endurance. While Troy¡¯s current movements certainly weren''t quick, they were instead slow. They required easy steps while being in stress-positions. All the while, the threat of any sound being emitted, ruining every step of progress, helped in putting up the pulse. If the pulse reached above a certain frequency, Troy would be forced to take deep breaths, through the mouth, ruining any chance of being silent. It was here, that so-called technical-abuse had to be taken, for him to succeed. Since an unknown amount of time, the human body had been to the beck and call of one¡¯s breathing pattern. While not having complete control, it was the master switch, in how the heartbeat acted. A good example would be how quickly the heartbeat lowered, upon the lungs being stopped from breathing, in a lower amount of time. Another good way, which was being currently used by Troy, to keep the heartbeat low, was forced, nasal breathing. While not being too forceful, Adam was able to observe him breathing calmly through his nose, avoiding any movement in his mouth. The usual response, to a raising heartbeat, would be to begin to breathe through the mouth. This would start a trigger in one''s brain, to allow the heart to further increase its tempo. But, if one refused to do so, while also refraining from anything truly intensive, it was possible to forcefully keep one¡¯s pulse down. While doing so was uncomfortable, and even painful, during extended periods of time, it was a well-used technique by older hunters. According to his law-templates, such activities had been outlawed, in most countries. Any wildlife had been classified as endangered, due to their now extremely low numbers. Adam was not surprised, at such classification, knowing how prudent humans were to impulse decisions. Hunting down their main food-source, down to nothing, was not something, which these being would be afraid of doing. It took a further twenty steps before Troy had reached the tree. Moving under its covers, the man slowly leaned against it, making a quiet exhale. Or, could it even be called so, when it took the man a full ten seconds, to get all the air out? The pre-known information was simply not intuitive enough when it came to such questions. A crunch of older leaves was heard, from behind the tree. Troy had frozen the moment the sound had registered in his mind, but, luckily for the AI, not a single noise had come out of him. However, with the knowledge of another entity being close, the body had seemingly begun to ignore its own orders, the pulse starting up another gear. Adam could not let that happen, determined to at least do the required tasks. If the animal, which was very close, to his estimation, went unseen, they would lose their likely only chance at getting it all done. ''Troy. Focus. Take a slow breath, and commence silent, observational efforts. Get yourself off the bark of the tree, while making sure no friction occurs. Your skin-suit should not be able to hang on it, but it would be best to double-check, before pulling away. When the preparation is done, slowly go around the left side of the tree. The animal should be viewable.`, Adam sent. As the words flowed over to Troy, the AI was able to notice an obvious drop in heart activity. If it was a calming, or if it was simply a new focus on the situation, he wasn''t sure why it was so effective. It did not matter, though, as the next actions would be much more in his lens. They were in the endgame now. Chapter 84: Discombobulation
Nodding to nothing other than himself, Troy was on the move. Gliding a hand across his back, he made sure nothing had fasted itself on the tree¡¯s bark. If Adam was to be trusted, their goal was right behind him. If he messed it up now, he would be suffering from it. Not just form the AI but also himself. Feeling nothing, which hinted at any hang-on clothing, he bent his upper body slightly forward, removing the last parts from the grasp of the bark. Now, he just had to be quiet, while getting himself a better vantage point. Looking downwards, he realised such a thing would be harder than anticipated. The ground, as perfectly simulated as it was, could have been even better, if it had refrained from adding a rather hampering detail. His feet had sunken slightly downwards, the damp earth, closest to the roots not having absorbed the last rain, as well as it should. With the sun-rays never touching the nearest surroundings, nothing had forced the near-liquid to evaporate, letting it stay for gods know how long. This was a problem. If Troy simply lifted his feet upwards, it would make a suction noise, as the air rushed back in, to fill the unequal pressure. As the air had been pressed out the sides, when he had been pressed downwards, he was sure, that it would be louder, than what was acceptable. What could he do? With his current footwork, he wouldn''t be able to twist himself around to see and much less to it silently. There had to be something, which would fix it all. Anything, that he could do, that would allow him to not screw all the progress up. Troy had put way too much work, into getting there silently. He would not be screwing it up now. Behind the tree, the sharps steps continued. From the lesser taps, the creature was obviously alone. With the slowly decreasing volume, it was obviously moving farther away. While such actions were good in the short term, allowing Troy to breathe slightly more heavily, it also bore the risk, of the animal getting too far away. If he was to fulfil the optional request, he was still expected to touch the thing. Couldn''t do that, if it wasn''t within touching distance. Which, it definitely wouldn''t be, if it came down to a race. Troy was a man of many talents. Outrunning wildlife was not one of them. For a single second, he was about to ask Adam for assistance. While he did immediately retract himself from such thinking, the AI had apparently picked up on his intent. He still wasn''t sure, how the heck he was succeeding in doing so. There shouldn''t have been any visual cues to indicate such things. Well, not in the amount of progress, he had made on speaking, but still. ''Keep your tongue still. While I can observe, that you successfully stopped yourself, from speaking, it was closer, than it should have been. In the future, please be more careful. These situations, where being soundless, might be rare, but, when they happen, they will undoubtedly be vital. On the subject of not emitting any sound, I believe this is a fine time, to begin non-verbal communication. Due to your lack of progress, after having removed yourself from the tree-trunk, I am lead to believe, that you are experiencing problems. This might be an understanding, due to wrongly interpreted body-language. To make sure, that my personal deductions are true, we will begin our first attempt at non-verbal questioning. Here, we will use the standard method of confirming or denying a question. I believe, that you are already accustomed to using nodding and shaking of the head, to showcase these answers. Let us begin, with a repeat of my earlier question. Are you currently experiencing a problem?`, Adam sent, having guessed Troy¡¯s current problems perfectly. He nodded slowly, making sure the only motion was with his head. No sudden movements, with his neck, were currently safe. The known pressure, of a joint needing to be popped, was coming along. While it would disappear by itself, if it wasn''t dealt with soon, the sound would still have the chance of being loud. By not moving, he minimized the chance of an unfortunate failure. ''Good to know that we can move this technique up to proof of concept. In the future, we will need to make more complex signs. But, such will take too much time, to currently do correctly. In the meantime, we will be continuing the current system. To further delve into this problem, is it something which you will be able to fix yourself?` Troy lightly shook his head, in denial. While, yes, would probably be able to fix it, given enough time. Yet, as time was of the essence, doing so would only be a waste of potentially used resources. And, the AI was definitely someone, who wouldn''t mind being used to his fullest. ''I see. This will complicate matters. If you would have been able to do so, without my assistance, I would have been able to ask for time estimates, for it to be completed. Now, though, we are forced to do something more abstract. Due to you not being able to vocally specify your problems, we will be forced to do outright pointing with your fingers. You will point at the general area, where the problem resides, and I will attempt to guess the problem. If the delay is caused by something physical in general, don''t point anywhere. And, don''t worry about me not being able to see the finger. With the data, which I have gained, I should be able to triangulate the points at a position easily.`, Adam sent. Troy almost just wanted to try muttering the problem, it seemed more likely to let them succeed. Their prey was escaping with every second passing, and, by this point, even he was having trouble hearing its footsteps. The creature had to have been more than a few meters away. With such distance, it should be able to hear a quiet word or two. He decided against it, though, taking his chance with Adam. While the AI might have been clueless, in some ways of life, he was absolutely dominant in others. One such thing was situational awareness. Or, at least, that was what Troy hoped for, as he tapped one of the fingers, on his right hand, straight at his feet. The answer came in almost immediately. ''With the rather obvious pointing direction, I am led to believe that the problem resides in your feet. With no unorthodox sensations, the problem is not due to any painful feelings. Therefore, the delay, from continuing your task, is likely due to something else. Just to be sure, though, I will ask, if the problem does reside inside you physically?`, Adam sent back, giving the man hope, of this being done with swiftly. A swift shake of the head followed. It was regretted, as a rather audibly crack came with it. The sound made him tense, but Adam continued with his investigation as if nothing had happened. If such an action was positive, or not, he wasn''t sure. ''So, it is something on your foot, but not directly because of it. Good. This increases the chances of this being an issue, which can be dealt with swiftly. Going back to your earlier movement, before stopping completely, you were able to move it, so no immediate paralysis, due to outside pressure, is causing the problem. Is the problem, your lack of suitable foot placements, when turning around?` A shake off the head gave the AI the needed clarification. Troy was not having such an issue, in the least. Looking down, though, it could have been a problem, if Troy wasn''t sure in his movements. While it would require move stylized footwork, without more practical functionality, he should still have the capability to move around. Practising the art, of not being heard, when leaving the house, had finally paid off. With his practical eye, he was able to pinpoint possible noise-makers. While some places might have looked, as if, they only contained regularly-maintained grass, there were more than a few fallen branches strewn about. Stepping on one would entail a large disaster. Luckily, he had been able to avoid them for now. ''Even better. This leaves the potential problem, as you had something stopping you from moving from your current position. It is not the promise of pain, or such a thing would have been physical. It''s centred around movement but isn''t an inability to move. Something is making you hesitate. With the softness of the area under these trees, the true reason has likely revealed itself. Are you stopping yourself from moving, due to the potential sound, taking your feet upwards would make?`, Adam sent, having finally guessed it. Troy was elated, as he was finally able to nod in affirmation. While his spread legs were not in pain, his slightly hunched position was putting all the workload on his hips. It was not the largest of weights, but it still required a sizable effort to maintain. If the issue was not fixed, in a matter of under thirty seconds, Troy would not be able to confirm his needed dexterity. ''I had hoped for something simpler to fix. And, with the lack of noise in hearing, coming from behind the tree, it seems the animal has noticed your unexpected noise. My current advice, before we get started, on figuring the conundrum out, is to remain absolutely still. If the animal tries to investigate, we need to be ready, when it comes to striking. The optional task is still within reach if our figurative cards are played correctly.`, Adam sent. A quick thought to the lower-than-usual volume of his words was noted before the reality was sent down upon him. Troy had been heard. Without being told, he knew that the creature was currently deciding whether or not to investigate the source. The usual response, with smaller herbivores, should have been to run, at the first unnatural sound. Not this animal, though. These goats were large enough to take on most smaller predators. Only a few had the mass to even hunt them, and they needed to do so in packs. How did Troy know such things? One thing in college, which everyone did, was to dedicate their learning to everything but their needed subjects. This left the animal to be more relaxed than Troy thought it had any right to be. The sound of unknown beings, and not part of the environment, must have been an interesting thing to hear. It would be so for everybody. And, for all that he knew, the goat might even have taken it as potential food. Yet, as time passed, he began to grow weary. No sound came. No footsteps could be heard. Why wasn''t it moving? Staying still, for extended periods of time was not in the mind of any prey. Even Troy knew such things. So, what reason was there for no sounds heard? The seconds passed down to the minutes. Three, to be exact. He had counted them carefully, to be sure, that he wasn''t imagining the time taken. Had the goat moved further away, without them realising it? Troy not having noticed wouldn''t have been too much of a shock, but the same couldn''t have been saying for Adam. What was going on? The AI didn''t seem to have any need to answer this to Troy. ''As I am not hearing any developments, on this particular front, I believe it would be best if we continue our problem-solving. First and foremost, a better look at the shoe placements should help us locate possible methods of fixing it. Please, as carefully as possible, squat downwards. Make sure to keep your heels on the ground. And, while minimizing viewing distance is a priority, it would be best to not over-extend your balance. Falling on the ground will be anything but silent. Go on, and fulfil the first step. With care, your chances of succeeding are more probable, than that of the average person.`, Adam transferred over, in his new hasty speed. While having used the quick word per the second function earlier, it was still not fully integrated into Troy¡¯s mind of the standard definition. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Not feeling any intention of hesitating, he began the process of getting downwards. Just his luck, that his left foot wasn''t pointing as forwards, as the other. Instead, it had shifted itself, when he had originally set it down, swinging its tip to the side. If he wasn''t careful, getting downwards could have caused more than slight pain in the knees. Damage could always be gained. Even more so, when was not positioning their feet correctly. Putting most of the weight on his right foot, as a necessary alternative, Troy was successfully able to get down. While still a few centimetres off, from the traditional standard of a correct squat, if he went any further downwards, he had the risk of falling. Balancing on one foot, in the current body-position, had not been on the list of trained activities. Refraining himself, from backwards, had also forced him to get his head as much forwards as possible. He could feel the lower end of his neck straining, as he forced it closer to his feet. It was anything but comfortable, but he would easily be able to hold it, for a minute or two. After that, though¡­ He hoped it wouldn''t come to such a scenario. ''Good. Having gotten a better look, I believe we might be able to avoid getting noticed even more. As you may have already guessed, with your lack of causing problems, the air will immediately try rushing into the void, when you raise your shoes. While it would not cause problems normally, the size of the hole will cause a higher rate of air moving. This will further cause a near-whistle, as it is forced into a narrow passage. The easiest solution to solve this problem would be, to remove your shoes. However, I do not believe you capable of exposing your skin to gravel, without causing larger volumes of sound. The other presumed method of lowering the sound, when movement is a constant need, Is to get your fingers dirty. And, literally meant, you are hereby in need of digging your fingers through the edges of your shoes. openings need to make, in multiple places, to even out the eventual pressure. With no focused placing, the speed to create noise will not be able to be generated. If, of course, you raise your feet slowly, after the fact, no problems should have appeared in the current plan. Please, perform the next step. Be sure to keep your current position, when it comes to the main mass of your body. Most of your weight is directed towards the backside. Even a gentle push has the potential of making you fall.`, Adam sent. The warning at the end of his speech was unneeded. Troy had noticed the problem, the moment he had sat himself down. Even if he had been only warned about moving his main-body, even the arms could ruin his current tasks. A sudden movement could shift the balance too greatly. Carefully, maybe even more careful than he really needed to be, he pressed his right finger through the ground. Slight wetness was felt, as his finger became grounded. The first couple of centimetres offered no resistance to the pressure, letting him get inside easily. Only after the first five, did he feel anything akin to a pushback. Not that he needed to go so deep, but it was good to know. Having already started, to the side of his left shoe, he glided the finger trough the edges of it slowly. While Adam had not mentioned how many holes around the shoes, there needed to be, he had decided to not take any chances. The incisions were made quickly. With the softness of the dirt, no sound came from it. Only the pieces, which were falling off his fingers, upon leaving the fluid-filled earth, made any indications of their existence. Not taking a second pause, Troy gave the same treatment to the area around his right shoe. Not gliding it across the edges, he instead made over fifteen individual holes, around the sides. It was completed before he knew it. Not waiting for Adam¡¯s permission, Troy got himself up to his regular height. With all the walking, he really had been gambling with the endurance of his body. While he still had more in the tank, he hoped it wouldn''t be like the current, with the other two environments. ''Good job. With the preparations done, you should be able to extract yourself. Make sure to do so slowly, as stated before. With how far, we¡¯ve gone, to make no sound, doing so now, due to clumsiness, would not go down well.`, Adam finally sent. Not feeling anything like clumsy, Troy slowly lifted his left foot. It had been positioned wrong, for so long, that circulation had begun to be cut off. Letting it doze, for any longer, could have created a disaster in the making. Nobody could control an asleep limb. Starting at the heel, it was raised. As the first part was off the ground, no lick of sound was created. The only thing to be heard was the dunking of his heartbeat. He hadn''t been able to keep it under control. But, he could deal with it later, as the effects would only show in twenty seconds, at minimum. With nothing but a single movement, the foot had been freed. Turning it on to its natural position, Troy was hit with a wave of relief. His ankles had not been enjoying the earlier method of standing. Now, he felt as if he could on for much longer a time. Using the same methods with the other foot, it came free in the same manner. No sound was heard. Though the left foot had come out easier, due to the larger amount of dirt pushed away, the right foot had been able to be prepared much quicker. A balance would be made, the next time as a similar scenario came forth. An unlikely one, but, knowing those two doctors, he didn''t doubt the chance of it. Now done, he carefully extracted himself from his current direction, and, as had been asked, twisted his body around the tree. Not while touching it, of course. Only his hands came in contract with the bark. keeping a small distance between it and his clothes. ''Move your body more forward. The creature cant has moved far, with the earlier footfalls. It is most likely somewhere, just out of sight.`, Adam encouragingly sent. Taking a glance down, Troy made sure nothing breakable was stepped on. If he was to come further forward, he needed more proper footing. The new positioning was successful, letting him see so much more. However, a certain characteristic of the environment was missing. The life. Before him, a goat lay on the ground. It likely hadn''t done so by choice, with how much of its stomach had been opened. While the insides weren''t viewable, due to them looking form it is back, he was easily able to see the tears in the skin. Troy was slightly afraid of Adam getting a reaction akin to the one, in the earlier test. Yet, from the words, that did not seem to have been the largest concern. ''It is dead.`, Adam simply stated. Troy, not seeing any reason to keep quiet, answered the statement. The one, who he was keeping himself quiet for, was obviously not of a mind to care about hearing them. "A fact of life," Troy said. "Want to try finding another?" There had to be more around there. Maybe, they weren''t close, but they were still likely to be on the hill. It was a shame, that they hadn''t noticed the corpse earlier, though. With the lack of smell, inside the environment, seeing it would have let the waste much less time, when it came to being still. If only- ''I don''t think you understand, Troy. The goat is not able to make any intentional sounds. It is dead.`, Adam said repeating himself. The man had already gone over this! Repeating information would not- Oh. Troy understood. "The goat did not make any sounds," Troy said, realising it all. "But, we heard something walk." ''Indeed we did. And, it is still here. Don''t make any sudden movements. The goat was felled not long ago. We walked in on the creature enjoying its meal. If we can get away, without giving it a reason to hunt us, we will come out of this unscathed.`, Adam slowly said, from inside the man¡¯s head. "Sounds like a plan", Troy numbly stated, doing his best to not flinch. The hunter of those he had been worried about being hunted by. There was always a bigger fish. And, it was just hanging around somewhere near him. Slowly taking steps backwards, his mind ran on the upturn. The events, which had happened not more than five minutes ago, repeated itself in his mind. Troy had heard it walking around, behind the tree. Adam had heard it all, as well, not putting any chance of it being fabricated on the potential list. Knowing the corpse of the goat was there, it was likely to have been finding itself the best starting positions. Eating from the same spot would not equally empty the prey¡¯s body. Some parts of the body were much more nourishing than others. The predators knew it. Yet, it had been walking away, until the moment, where Troy accidentally emitted sound in his neck. What had before been getting softer and softer disappeared entirely. It couldn''t have been due to the distance. Such a thing would have taken much more time. He stopped in his movements, his body tensing. An epiphany was had. The steps were getting softer and softer¡­ But, it wasn''t moving away. It was moving around. This was a predator they were talking about. With how close it had gotten, no amount of breathing technique should have hidden Troy. His neck making the sound wasn''t the trigger. It was what sealed the deal. The predator had moved from feeding to protecting its food. It had heard prey and slowly moved to its hunting movements. Silently walking, instead of casually doing the same thing. A more obvious sound had simply put an early trigger of the full thing. But, then, where was this predator? It wasn''t on the ground, and it had been making its way, closer and closer to Troy. Could it have moved around the tree, in the same fashion as Troy? No¡­ ''Don''t look-`, Adam began, but his action was already set in stone. Taking a long glance up in the branches above him, Troy saw glinting eyes meeting him. Its pupils widened oh so slightly, as the eye-contact was made. ''Troy`, Adam concisely sent, after the contact had been made. "Yes?" Troy asked, not daring to blink. ''Walk backwards slowly, while not losing constant sight of the creature. Its instinct stops it from attacking before the opportunity shows itself. Any form of not being seen counts as an opportunity. We have already done the required tasks, and the chances of us completing the optional one are looking slimmer. We have already done a different optional task, though, so this is an acceptable loss. Right now, our priority is to safely make our way back to the starting point, without being attacked. The predator already has food. As long as you don''t seem to want the carcass, it should likely leave you alone`, Adam sent, the sheer length of the message not helping Troy keep his calm. What had earlier been called a high pulse, had nothing to show for this current one. His body was seeing the danger, and reacting to it. Epinephrine was being sent in droves. It was a flight or fight scenario, and his body had clearly made a choice. A choice, which he, for once, would not be disobeying. What he now identified as a feline of some kind, the predator stood over two meters long. As it jumped down the branches effortlessly, Troy was able to see the corded muscles, normally hidden by the fur. This thing could outrun anything. If it decided to attack, he would only be safe for so long. His body didn''t need any commands before it moved. Having still not blinked, in any way, he started moving backwards. If amusement could be shown on such an animal, Troy was sure he saw it. The predator knew the situation, just as much as him. It knew his chances of escaping. Right now, it was just decided, if he was worth the effort. Protecting the corpse from his hands? It was more likely hoping to add another to the pile. ''Deep breaths. Keep the pace.`, Adam advised, from inside. Oh, he did not understand the current situation. How could he? Being safe, inside his own little world, gave one such an outlook surely. And, he was keeping pace! The predator was doing so, as well, in fact. It wasn''t getting closer, but it wasn''t getting farther away either. Then. It pounced. If it was doing so fully, or not, Troy wasn''t sure. What he was sure of, was that he was currently running. It had not taken any conscious thought, for him to start sprinting. ''Keep calm, Troy. You can''t outrun it.`, Adam sent. It was a miracle, that he was able to hear it. The constant, hard breathing would have tuned it out, if not for it coming from inside. "See me try, and we¡¯ll see just how fast I can run!", Troy spluttered, not being able to fully form the words. It came out in gasps. ''Trust me. This predator is far better than you when it comes to-` "Oh, don''t you even dare praise the thing currently coming after my behind, thank you!" After his outburst, Adam went quiet. Troy wasn''t too sure, of the reasons why. He didn''t have any energy to really care. What had taken twenty to minutes to walk, only took five to run. It was amazing how fast one could get when running downhill. It was a real showing of his luck when he didn''t fall even once. Having finally reached the starting-point, he sat down behind the barrier. Taking a look back, he saw no hunter tracking him down. For how long, had it decided he wasn''t worth it? Troy would never know. Outside the barrier, the environment changed, likely to never be seen again. Chapter 85: Decentration
The other environments were not any faster. Nor, though, were they any longer. They were precisely the same time as before. And, Troy could remember all of it, in more than just fine detail. His brain almost tried to fry itself, out of sheer unwillingness to continue. While his body may have been in better shape, due to the proper fitting of the suit, his mind was still tired. What were the current modifiers? Lack of sleep was obvious. Then, there was emotional toil, which he had acquired only a few hours before. After that, it was bodily exhaustion, with how much effort had been required lately. While he had only been forced to sprint once, light jogging had not been expended as well. Adam had not been patient. As expected, the other areas had not followed the same set-up as the forest environment. Troy had initially been scared of the potential new areas, which could be chosen. No matter how fun it may have been, he would not have appreciated having to swim in the ocean. In the last tests, it had been completely fine, with him having the privilege of being behind a solid barrier. Even soaring across the skies had been more than entertaining. Seein the natural world, from such an abstract perspective, had honestly given him a new outlook on life. This, however, became a whole different matter, once the interaction options came into play. His fear of heights, depths, and general danger was not something, which made any of the potential environments any easier. When he had the requirement of coming in contact with the area, his mind had its own requirement of being firmly planted on the ground. No flying for him, outside of planes, and no diving either. The second environment had luckily not been close, to certifying his fears. During the creation process, the ground had twisted itself into a wave-like pattern, going up and down, the longer ahead one looked. The grass had disappeared entirely, along with the trees, removing any semblance of creative colouring. Brown had been replaced with a sandy yellow. Such a change made sense since, well, Troy had gotten himself put into a desert. The hills, which he had only just been able to see, in the distance, had made their presence know much more prominently. Growing hundreds of meters taller, Troy had felt no uncertainty in calling those mounds of rock mountains. Adam had not challenged his word-use during the environment either. Of the required task, during the desert environment, no was too hard. It was mainly centred around finding the various flora, which prevailed at the edges of the large rock-piles. With their contrasting, green colouring scheme, none had been hard to find. The only real difficulty, which had stayed, was the optional tasks. During the second environment, Adam had been forced to call the search for those off. They had been centred around, finding various ancient sculptures. It sounded easy in concept until one realized that they were hidden under the sand. According to the AI, and Troy had been cautious on those words since the first time he heard them, it should have been theoretically possible to find, by searching the patterns, that he sand had created. Some places would stand out, showing where uneven material was hidden. This was never proven in practice, though. Much to his annoyance, the terrible doctor, behind the environment, had decided to make the temperature realistic. After not too long, inside the desert, Troy had begun to get sweaty. The simulated sun had beamed the light into the light, into his forehead, and generally everywhere on his body. It was a miracle that the skinsuit allowed him to get most of his body away from the unruly temperature. If not, he would have likely fallen over from being heated up way above his body¡¯s limits. With such a physically draining environment, the safety of their operations had come into play. Adam wanted to do the optional tasks, and also do the tasks in the next environment. But, if they had continued, Troy would have most likely been unable to operate at the needed level, making the chances of doing the next area as well practically impossible. And, this didn''t even make it certain, that they completed the second environments optional tasks. So, it had all been called off, in favour of getting more raw data. Or, at least, that had been the AI¡¯s reasoning. Troy himself hadn''t paid too much attention to it all, having a larger focus on keeping himself upright, at the time. The third, and final environment hadn''t been too straining. Troy hadn''t been too sure, what the area was supposed to have looked like when it first had started to change. It would not have been wrong to state that the sand seemed to have grown arms, rising from the deep. The moment, they had stepped into the starting point, after finishing the second environment, it all went downwards. As in, even with the sand rising by itself, the entire area seemed to have grown a horizontal, jagged mouth, which simply swallowed them up. For a near thirty seconds, all they had been able to see was black. Adam had even asked if he was reading the output wrongly, and Troy was simply holding his eyes closed. It had been one of the first times that he had heard the AI questioning the information gained, much less asking his opinion about it. After denying his guess, Adam had gone back to his silent thinking, leaving Troy to do the same. The darkness had remained for nearly a full minute, temporarily leaving him to think that something had malfunctioned. As the light began to return, he had been sure of it. They were not on the ground. They were inside it. The first step outwards had been cautioned, as it had been his first time inside a massive cave system. Much less, was it his first time, seeing a self-lighting cave system. The moss on the sides had been the emitters of light, have given the area a warm, blue colouring. It had not been too strong a light, making a few areas have over swum in darkness. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Suffice to say, that the AI had been ecstatic. Not one second after stepping out, their new adventure had begun. Instead of being focused on the flora, which Troy would have guessed towards, with the outright glowing moss surrounding, it was their job to find the various creatures inside. When it had come with a forewarning, that one shouldn''t be afraid of the animals, he had been worried. After having seen the creatures, though, Troy understood fully, why they had been warned of it. Most humans wouldn''t have recognized them as living things. The colourings were all wrong, on nearly every single creature they saw, in their journey down under. Grey, translucent skin, matching the texture of the rock they held onto, made for a less appetizing sight. His stomach had even tried to present his last meal, the first time he had seen the creatures. If that had been due to sheer fright, or sheer disgust, Troy wasn''t sure. When one had come face to face, with such a unique creature, by looking upwards, at the low ceiling, one learned a thing or two, about the heart skipping a beat. As in, it was a possible thing to happen. Nevertheless, even with the more special varieties of species, completing the required tasks was a piece of cake. While they did take time, due to Adam needing more reference points, to the animals clearly apart, it was certainly faster than the last two environments. Three of the four optional tasks had even been completed. While still holding on to the creature-finding theme, it had certainly required more complex logic leaps to fulfil. The creates, which needed to be found, to complete the tasks, all resided in the darker part of the caves. Their bodies did not have the ability to withstand direct exposure, to nearly all light sources. Evolution had still not taken their eyes, leaving them to be overwhelmed by sensation, if direct contact was ever made. Instead, these animals had relied on their extraordinary ears, to guide them in their day-to-day lives. This of course included their survival instincts, going under sensing the movements of other creatures. Troy was a human that couldn''t see in the dark. Therefore, he was forced to move around, to get a better idea of where the hell he was. This scared the living night out of these lightless animals, causing them to flee. And, just his luck, he needed to physically touch them, for the optional tasks to be completed. It had taken more than just a few minutes, for the creatures to stumble upon his unmoving body. Adam had commanded him to sit down on the uncomfortable rocks and make an as little movement as possible. An easy thing, for a limbless entity to say. Staying still, while sharps objects jabbed at one¡¯s back, was not an easy thing to do. The technique had worked for most of the creatures, a few momentarily walking over the presume boulder. One, however, had seemingly refused to get close to him. Or, it simply did not hide in the same manner as the other optional creatures. Who knew? Certainly not those two, as they were forced to give up. According to Adam¡¯s internal watch, they had been at the test for nearly four hours, making it prime time, to leave. And, so, that was where Troy had gotten to. After having entered the starting-point, for what was likely his last time, the environment slowly faded away, revealing the normal white void. As he stepped away from it, the platform imitated the earlier area, liquidating, before being sucked into the ground, no evidence of it ever existing. ''Hurry out, now. You will need to consume a larger amount of calories before the next test will be able to be commenced.`, Adam sent to him, as he had stood still, simply watching it all wash away. "That might have been the best idea, you''ve had this last hour," Troy remarked, letting his body relax, in a way it never had before. His back stood just a bit straighter, as the muscles were invigorated, in ways it hadn''t gotten to be in so long. If he hadn''t been holding on, Troy would have thought somebody had drugged him. With the way, his mind was running, his lack of sleep was barely noticeable. Right now, he wouldn''t have minded doing another environment, his mind up and ready for it. A groaning of his throat and stomach showed how much his body thought it, clearly having differing perspectives. Sure, he hadn''t drunk anything more than a few gulps in the morning, and glass to lunch, his throat shouldn''t have been that dry. And, he had gone with less food, for much longer. Had his body adjusted to such luxuries, that they required it, at all costs? ''When complimenting my ideas, it is a usual practice, to then try fulfilling these ideas. In this situation, it would be a great choice of action, to attend to your bodily desires. With how much you have moved around, in the past hours, your caloric needs have likely skyrocketed.`, Adam sent again, taking him out of his short trance. "Of course", Troy answered, immediately beginning to move. He didn''t trust himself, to move after a few thoughts on the matter. His mind might not have been up to the needed standards, as he kept forgetting the important matters. The entrance had shown itself, not long after he had begun walking. Which, was surprising, in the least. It appeared in the previous place that he was walking towards. If he wasn''t too wrong, the placement of it wasn''t actually changeable. It was constant, as it was a part of the outer structure as well. Normally, the location of it was simply obscured, to provide more realism. So¡­ how was it there, in the path that he was walking? Had he been lucky, when choosing which way to walk? The chance was small, but Troy could not process any better way, that it could have been done. And, not wanting his brain to be fired, so close to the finish line, he simply walked through the confusing entrance. As he stepped out onto the metal walkway, the two familiar faces were there to welcome him out. As in, they could have done so, if they wanted to. Instead, Dr Fidelis was figuratively neck deep into his screen, incoherently muttering to himself, as the screen wildly flickered about. If such methods were the usual way, of getting quick results, Troy did not want to see him, when the man was stressed. Even with one distracted by his own workings, however, Dr Hale was still there to greet him, in her own special way. "Get out of the skin-suit," Dr Hale commanded gruffly, sounding more tired, than anything else. "We have food to get before you need to get back in." If one looked at it, in the definitely wrong ways, it showed how much she really cared about him. As a test subject, of course. Troy fully believed her statements, about being his mental torture. A vile job, for a terrible person. As they say, if it fits the glove. "Roger", Troy said, not taking a single pass in his walk. If it went towards giving him food faster, he would hold up against any kind of attitude. "Be there in a minute." "Make it thirty seconds." He could do that as well. No reason to be careful, when taking off the skinsuit. Wasn''t like it was likely the most overly-prized clothing article that he had ever worn. Families could be fed for years, with the money this thing was worth if Troy¡¯s guesses about it were correct. "Of course." Chapter 86: Indoctrination
The skin-suit nearly fell off him, before he had the chance to pull the curtain to obscure his changing place. Whoever had the switch, for the suit, clearly wasn''t waiting for him to dilly-dally¡­ Why he still used such childish words, he wasn''t sure. Dilly dally. The earpiece was taken off just as swiftly, deposited in his pocket, without any such mannerisms showing themselves again. ¡­ Heh. "I can''t hear fabrics being taken off", Dr Hale noted cooly, from outside the curtain. Why, she was paying attention to the sounds, coming from him, was not something, Troy wanted to think about. But, then again, with all those enhancements, which Charlie had put on her, there was a chance, that she couldn''t be blamed for it."Make that happen." What she could be blamed for, though, was that attitude of hers. He, of course, did not have anything near enough courage to call her out on it, but, she did have it badly currently. Whatever had happened, during the newest test likely hadn''t been too pretty. Troy knew, that the two doctors hadn''t been on the same foot when it came to some aspect of the tests, but the would surely be going to nuclear weaponry soon. With those staring-contests of theirs, testing the will-power of each other, he was just waiting for the first strike to be taken. If they walked the same path, as recent history, the conflict would be over soon after that. Troy let the suit fall to the ground, not having the time to be decent about it. Time was beginning to slip by, and he didn''t dare doubt Dr Hale bargaining in, telling him to hurry up. Few things were more disturbing than the thought of her coming close to him. Especially, when his stomach was rolling, trying to get him to eat something. As he all but forced his shirt on, Troy still wasn''t sure, why his body was being so pushy with him, as of late. In the past, he had been able to unwillingly fast, without anything but a mild struggling. Now, he felt his insides tearing itself apart, trying to find any scrap worthy of being digested. With how he felt the pulse, coming to trough his stomach, it couldn''t belong, before his body thought it wise, to eat itself. It was a valid survival strategy, in an emergency. Self-cannibalization, without any wastes by indirect means. If only it could be restricted to actual emergencies, and not the times, where he just hadn''t eaten in five hours. The trousers had been buttoned perfectly, the shoes mashed through them simultaneously, and Troy was finally ready to go. The curtain was pushed trough, no time wasted in being gentle with it. The thing couldn''t be expensive enough, for him to push Dr Hale¡¯s patience. If anything, his hurrying about should have lessened the eventual mental pulldown. As he got himself another view of the room, he could see that Dr Fidelis was continuing his owl-stared look at the screen. No inclinations had been made hinting at any other focus. Troy couldn''t even see the man breath, his clothes obscuring nearly all the smaller motions. If not for the movements of the fingers, he would have thought the doctor replaced by a statue. Dr Hale gestured at the door, hinting at them needing to leave the same moment. Troy obliged, not wanting any words to disturb the doctor¡¯s work. That was, of course, slightly hypocritical of him, seeing how loudly they had been not a minute ago. Yet, it was the thought that counted¡­ right? Probably. In a few strides, Troy had gotten himself out of the hidden door, standing ready for it to close behind the two of them. Normally, the two underlings would have simply walked, without a care to the closing of the entrance. However Dr Hale seemed adamantly steadfast, in standing around the slowly closing door. It sealed with a mild hiss. Just enough that he could hear while standing close to it. The door wouldn''t have been so secret, if it relayed its location to any person within fifty meters, of course. After a few seconds of waiting, Troy had thought them ready to move on. From the balanced form of Dr Hale, though, such a thing wasn''t likely to happen. "Dr Fidelis is currently forced to hard-code another test. The next test, to be exact. The one, which had been delegated, for the next testing-phase was deemed unsafe by me. Due to a few disagreements, we have received a longer than average break. This does not mean, we get to spend it on our times, unfortunately. During the extra few minutes granted, I have been ordered to give you a summary of the test, the results in it, and a few points of improvement, on your behaviour during it. Did you catch that, or do I need to repeat myself? And, if you say yes, I may give a much shorter summary, so it would be best to say no," Dr Hale stated, going into a near-professional speech. This did give Troy more background information, on the near-comatose state of Dr Fidelis. Having to create a new test, for less than an hour, did not seem like the most peaceful activity. Much less was it so, if one took in the factor of getting it approved by the higher-ups. Or, would he have to do so? While not commonly used nowadays, retroactive deals were all the craze, when the time was of the essence. The actions were done, long before the contract work had been established. It did get put in disuse, when people began using it, for the exploitation potential it held within. Still, it was entirely legal, if both parties agreed on it. Which, he honestly wasn''t too sure, that the higher-ups would do. Maybe, they would be swayed, if the results were too good to pass up, but gambling one''s job on such a line wasn''t the smartest thing to do. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Not that the bearded doctor would get fired for such an intentional mishap. Maybe a wage cut, but, from earlier statements, about paying for it privately, Dr FIdelis likely didn''t care about such things. If the test had the result it deserved, then everything was likely fine, in that crazed man¡¯s eyes. And, going away from such a controversial topic, Troy would be getting commentary, on his actions during the test. If he didn''t know any better, one could easily have mistaken it for a¡­ impromptu debriefing. Upon thinking such a thing, his brain had released more than the usual amount of dopamine. It wasn''t every day that he got preaching in the rankings. These people were beginning to classify him as deserving of correcting. Not just critique about actions now and then, but, instead, it was systematic controlling. It sounded bad, sure, but, to Troy, he couldn''t have been happier about it all. "No, it all sounds easy enough to understand", Troy nearly sputtered out, wanting her to start talking immediately. "Go on, please!" It was exciting. Knowing that he was about to get an analysis of his own actions, which wasn''t coming from the subjectively objective entity known as Adam, was more than just great. What would be said? Could he give feedback on the commentary, creating an endless loop of improvement, culminating in both reaching places never reached before? Troy couldn''t wait to find out. Dr Hale clearly hadn''t expected his wildly energetic mood. She almost put the left side of her mouth upwards, before it fell even deeper than before. If Troy had put any focus on her eyes, he might even have catched a bit of remorse in them. "Your fast-tracking of the conversation and moving this whole spiel along is appreciated. Now, to satisfy the good doctor¡¯s standards of a summary, I will start talking, and, when my lungs start to hurt, I will stop. Physical pain is, of course, the only good excuse, to stop being more informative. First off, your performance, if only pure test scores are taken into the algorithm, was better than the estimated average. While not being close to following all tasks, the points gained from the optional tasks did help to skew the threshold. If completing the optional requirements of the third task has not been extremely lucky in execution, I might even have been proud. Your performance in the second task, however, was not to the estimated levels. While it certainly wasn''t due to a fault of your own, there were never any successful turnouts, in your attempts to find the hidden statues. While it might have been a harder task, for the AI, than it should have been, the pure probability should have allowed you to find one of the more easy ancients. If your gaze had been more focused, you might even have realized the statue right under the starting point. Its design location had been purely done, to give the two you extra points, if the need called for it. And, while it certainly did, you never did put time through searching the immediate areas. This could be, due to the- And¡­ my throat hurts. Any questions you have for me before I continue? Right here, I don''t have any obligation to repeat myself, so inquiring questions only," Dr Hale began it off with. Altogether, Troy took it as a solid start. Nothing truly groundbreaking information had been told, yet. But, that was to be expected. This was only the preliminary. Expecting a whole exhibition wasn''t anywhere close to realistic. If he simply waited for a bit more, minding his own cards, the results would surely show themselves, in due time. Waiting was easy. Incredibly easy. Not like he expected immediate praising and nothing else. Of course not! His goals, in the conversation, were constructive, and not just some circling of praises, without anything negative pulled in. It wasn''t like such a gaol was possible anymore, with the mention of the AI forgetting to look at the obvious hiding places, of the statues. "Nothing much, that I can ask about it. But, you''re only using the points gotten, to base the performance off of. Those points were only supposed to be gotten, by the actions which Adam mandated. My own actions, during the test, can not put a better perspective of my actions, in general terms. Would it be possible, for you, to not base my grading on the actions, which were not dictated by myself?" Troy inquired into. While it wasn''t the worst thing in the world, to get a performance review, based on another''s work, it would be much better, if it was his own actions getting praised. Adam had debriefings, where he got kind words himself. This wasn''t the AI¡¯s time to be praised. It was Troy¡¯s. "I was going to get to that part," Dr Hale numbly reassured him, not sounding like she had any personal need to do so. "I thought it would be best if I came out with the good parts first. Stops most from crying halfway. Not for a lack of trying, trust me on that. More like, they aren''t physically capable of understanding the words said, until long after they are uttered. You, Troy Maxwell, have not been doing your work to the needed standards. While you do try to uphold some standards, shortages have been found, as of late. This was readily available when the first environment was rolled out. I am guessing that you can guess the event in question?" It was more than obvious. He could still remember it vividly. His mind had been working harder, than it had in years, during those ten minutes of work. "Yes", Troy confirmed no more happiness added, during his recent thought-paths. "Mind elaborating on this even, then? Selv explanations are proven to be much more showing when it comes to events like these." Not putting too much into, what scenarios were akin to the aforementioned one, Troy went right down to explaining it. Even if they had cut into the thick of it, early on, it could still turn into something positive¡­ right? "During the first test, one of the optional tasks were to physically touch a wild goat. While I did have reservations, about the safety of such a thing, I did attempt to fulfil it. This could be seen in my more than slight precautions, in stopping myself, from alerting the nearby creatures. However, any ideas of being silent did not remain, as the two of us found the wild goat¡¯s corpse. While this was not initially shocking to look at, the implications of it did cause me mild worry. When Adam informed me of the nearby predator, this worry grew into more than slight fear. While I do realise that it all was entirely fabricated, instincts still had control over, what I believed, in those moments. I held on when the predator came nearer, but my self-control did not remain when it pounced on me. This caused a direct disobeying of Adam¡¯s orders. While it was not mentioned, I do believe he was annoyed by it. No comments about it, though. It might come up in his debriefing, but that''s up to Dr Fidelis," Troy ended it off with. Dr Hale looked at him for a moment, before sighing. "That was not what I was talking about, but, I guess that''s good enough," she said, before finally beginning her walk. Wait. "Dr Hale. If that wasn''t, what you wanted to talk about, then¡­ what was it?" No answer. "Dr Hale? Please?" "We do not have time for more details. Dinner is served, and we are not present." Troy wanted to delve further, but something had seemingly switched inside her head. Welp, there was nothing to do about such things. At least, his stomach would soon stop hurting. Chapter 87: Metarelation
As it turned out, the two of them had come much later than normal. While people weren''t in the lower numbers that Troy had witnessed at lunch, the amount was gradually decreasing. While the food was not normally taken away, it soon would be, with most having gotten their needed fill. Sitting one their usual benches were the regular duo of Charlie and Darlow. The latter had not been at lunch, for some inexplicable reason. Not that Troy cared too much about that severely important detail, feeling a greater need to get himself some food. Today''s dinner had the prison equivalent of mashed potatoes, black gravy, and some meat to the side. Not the most complicated of things to get, but, oh, how his mouth watered at the sight of the delicacy before him. How long had it been, since he had eaten such things? A month? Or, would it be more likely to call it a year. Troy had not been able to buy any meat, before getting the current job, due to the expenses with it. Eating cheap vitamin pills, and even cheaper ready-made dishes had caused his standards of good food, sure. But, no man, woman, or person could ever deny the greatness before him. Grabbing a cup of water along the way, Troy got himself seated at the usual placement. Charlie and Darlow were on the opposite side, while Dr Hale would soon seat herself beside him. Or, well, on the same side as him. Not as near to him, as those two before him were. Honestly, if they waved those forks around much more, Troy would be witness to a gravy fight. He had only seen one such occurrence before, and it had been on more favourable terms. Dr Hale was not long delayed before she was seated as well. Within the same second, when she reached a comfortable position, Charlie had taken his hand inside his jacket and thrown out a very recognizable object. It landed softly, in the middle of the table, hinting at just how light the thing was. "What?" Dr Hale simply asked, her tone revealing just how tired she was of what she saw before her. Even her eyes narrowed themselves, her jaw tightened, and one eyebrow had gotten one good twitch in before everything sat back in place. Something told Troy, that this wasn''t the first time, something like this had to happen With those gears sticking outwards, constantly moving, he would''ve thought the thing much heavier. While he had really lifted it, nearly everything on it looked to be made of metal. And, while he had also never lifted any pure metal, those things were supposed to be pretty damn heavy. The fact that it hardly made any sound, just hinted at other factors being in play. Charlie was seemingly expecting Dr Hale¡¯s reaction, his head tilting in her direction, with practised ease. A coy smile found itself upon his lips, a more than slight hint at the expected output. "I haven''t even begun, dearest doctor!", Charlie said, putting a special emphasis on just how special she was. Darlow had unconsciously put on a little more focus when the word was used. But it was thrown off, just as quickly. Nicknames were not easy when multiple people were both dear¡¯s and doctors. If Troy¡¯s estimations were not entirely wrong, a good seventy-five per cent had such a prominent title. "There is no reason to be with such a negative outlook. Just think! What could the good and young genius have created now? Do you not want to know, of the many secrets, which had been trapped inside my mind before, unveiled in physical form, for the masses to see?" "Not particularly, no", Dr Hale surmised, in a few words. The words couldn''t have been too new to hear, in such a form, but they still hit the formerly young doctor hard. A mock hit was made to the chest, not being close, to forcing Charlie back onto his seat. Troy really did like these moments. The dynamics of their little seating showed itself prominently, during the break-hours. Charlie would try engaging the group with a new concept, or an alternate definition of an older thing, and try to get positive reactions from it. Then, Dr Hale would come along, and shatter any semblance of positivity from the mortal realm, before eating her food, as nothing happened. This would set the giver of ideas some initial set-backs before it would come back again in full force. And, if Troy had not been too much, in his own head, the next scene would be beginning any second- "How? How can you not want to enjoy the idea of gathering more knowledge about the world! This thing could be a time machine, for all you know about it, and you''re removing any chances of ever getting to know the details of it. If you just inquired into it, even just a smidge, the possibilities of what you learn would greatly be improved just by being it itself. And, if you don''t like the initial pitch, of what this thing is, nobody will be blaming you, for not being interested. It is only through instant rebuttal, that we get such thoughts sewed into our minds," Charlie said, the words flying out of his mouth, directly into the mildly irritated face of Dr Hale. Then again, that was the standard expression, for that woman, so Troy didn''t really need to pay attention to such detail. It was hard not to, though. The slight lowering of her eyebrows, as she tried to restrain herself, from dishing out the underserved verbal lashing, was way too obvious. It was a testament, to her self-control, that she had only done such a thing a few times. Usually, when one was of such mind, it only took a maximum of five buttons pushed, before the nuclear codes were sent in. With the current situation now, somebody had simply swiped their hands across the whole dashboard, yet no extreme reaction had come forth. Troy greatly appreciated that, having to be the one swiping most of the time. Not for a lack of trying, but he really was terrible at not annoying her. Instead of any of the more potentially harmful words, coming out of her mouth, a tired sigh was released. The shoulders were untensed, for but a moment, before setting themselves back in place, with a newer type of determination. She still looked absolutely done, with Charlie¡¯s misadventures words, but it was still much calmer than before. "So, I just need to listen a little, and I can get out of this dreadful conversation?" Dr Hale asked, clearly showing her intentions. But, well, at least she was playing along, if only slightly. Some participation was better than none at all. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Troy nearly chimed into it himself but stopped just before the words rolled off his tongue. While it would seem to be a great idea, he had already gotten himself a full introduction about the¡­ what was it called again? Fender? Lender? Sentient manifestation with an alcohol problem? Dr Hale? Wait, no¡­ Bender! Quite the special name, for something not being too focused on metalworking. But, if he was lucky, Troy could potentially get to throw some spoons around. Watching things, which should be physically possible, was always fun to see. "Precisely, your perfect definition of positivity! With one simple gesture, called asking more than just ''what?`, you can improve nearly all interactions by incredible margins! How about the two of us practice this newly implemented standard, and get back to the news, which I have yet to explain?" Charlie answered with, his smile becoming more reasonable to bear. If the pace went on, they might even have gotten to the part, where the machine was brought up again. The two of them likely hadn''t noticed it yet, but Troy and Darlow had certainly seen the gears begin to increase their speed. The taller one of them had even nudged the makes of the device¡¯s shoulder, but it had been ignored. Not the smartest thing to do, but there wasn''t any chance that Troy would be interfering. If they were lucky, some time would pass, before the effects would show themselves. Dr Hale looked at the beaming man of greatness like a butcher looked at a dead fish. Nothing serious was taken off it, and she would likely be acting much the same way. "Then", Dr Hale began her sentence off with a slight pause, for dramatic effect coming along. "What is this thing, what can it do, and, most importantly, why are you showing us clearly confidential technology, in the middle of our prized, short break from normal work-hours?" The wording of it all threw the three others off slightly, with a few from other seats looking towards this ''confidential` technology. After looking at the source of these words, though, most looked away again, having gotten a taste of those people¡¯s words many times before. After another minor criticism, Charlie had been thrown off his game. While it was momentary, Troy could clearly see the gears inside that mind of his, trying to form the next twenty witty lines, about how negative she was, when it came to his brilliant inventions. "A perfect question, for an even more perfect object!", Charlie answered, finally having decided on the progression-design. It was obvious that he had been trying to lead it along to specific things. He always did so, and, for the most part, it worked perfectly. Troy had certainly been victim to such tactics before. Yet, Dr Hale had certainly not been as low in wisdom like him. She had likely wizened up to these tactics, having been on the onslaught of them for many years now. How long had the two of them know each other, Troy wondered? Were they acquainted since the start, or where the two of them meeting a new development? A decade or a year? He needed to ask about such things, at some point. "And, for the official part, I am calling this thing the ''Bender`. Cause, you know, it bends things. For the last point, though, I am definitely not telling you now. Doing so would influence your desire to learn more by a lot." Not the most explanatory answer. Troy knew it. Charlie knew. But, as the key figure in the equation, Dr Hale definitely knew it. From the first hint, at his explanation ending, she had nearly instinctively critiqued his vague wording on what it did. Yet, the likely smartest person, in a fifty-meter area, was not to be fooled like so. Instead, a staring contest had started. Dr Hale wanted an explanation, on what the hell Charlie meant, with ''it bends stuff''. However, if she directly asked for clarification, he would have won, by her showing obvious interest. Even adults were stubborn, in the way, that they didn''t want to be proven wrong. While it was much more impactful, in other job-positions, this one required something, which neither likely wanted to occur. Letting it be known that they were wrong. Her eyes implied that Charlie needed to explain himself. She wasn''t asking for it. It was simply his obligation to do so when one wasn''t the greatest at the start. Charlie, though, did not do anything close to his so-called obligation, instead of smiling in silence. He was a brick wall, and she was the one in the truck trying to drive through it. Neither would end up successful if this continued. Dr Hale seemed to realise this, another sigh coming from her lips. Which was great, as Darlow had been beginning to prepare a hurrying-technique called spraying Charlie with some water. It never came to fruition, much to Troy¡¯s displeasure, with them all ready to hear what she had to say. "Fine. If it hurries things along and allows both parties to actually eat their food, I will oblige in your petty behaviour", Dr Hale said, not mentioning her own part of the overall pettiness. It did remind Troy to take another bite of his food, though. For what it was worth, the taste was much better than expected. The texture could have been more varied, but that wasn''t something, which he should have been complaining about. "What, in the name of all that is reasonable, do you mean, when you tell me, that this device can bend stuff?" "I mean exactly what it implies", Charlie smugly answered. Upon the expected reaction, of Dr Hale not having any of it, Troy was finally brought into the conversation. "Troy, do the thing with the spoons, please. A practical demonstration is needed, if this fine lady isn''t going to be stabbing through my head, with her shoes." Looking over at the stack of available cutlery, none such things were available. They had seemingly been removed, due to their lack of use, in the current dish. Forks and knives were available, though. "Wouldn''t any metal be okay?" Troy asked, before going ahead with his rather radical idea. While throwing around knives, with the destination not known, might have been looked at, as incredibly crazy, forks were another story. With those, it was more along the lines, of fifty per cent, between either being crazy or being stupid. Those were favourable odds. He just needed permission, so he could blame it on somebody else. "Sure!", Charlie confirmed, as informative as ever. "If it has some metal in it, it should be incredibly obvious, in the results. Nothing too sharp, though. Getting walked out by security, during break hours, were fun the first two times. The third is apparently work endangering." With the oddly specific warning, Troy took it as a go for the forks. There weren''t too many left, with there only being supposed to be enough for six people, but it should be enough, for the purposes. He just needed to throw it correctly, and it would go perfectly. ¡­ If Troy threw them, it would most likely hit one of the two people sitting in front of him. He was not high enough, in needing to be kept employed, that such risks could be taken. Instead, the slightly sharp cutlery was given to Charlie. "How about you show it yourself?" Troy suggested, with only a few underlying reasons for it. "It wouldn''t be too good if I did it improperly. Such showcasing would be best shown by the creator, so the fine details aren''t scampered over, right?" "Couldn''t have said it better myself", Charlie said, gladly taking over the obligation. While Troy might not have realised it, the man had some underlying reasons as well. Stability was important after all, and events were not to be repeated unnecessarily. "Dr Hale, if you would be so kind, as to take a look at these fine examples of cold forging, you will be amazed." No more words were uttered before Charlie hurled one of the forks in the direction of the ''Bender`. If nothing out of the normal was to happen, it would have hit it spot on. Instead, it flew wildly to the right, clattering just on the edge of the table. It was pure luck, and a good deal of friction, that stopped it from itself from hitting the floor. Such a thing would have made too much noise. Speaking of noise, Dr Hale had fully stopped emitting such things. From what Troy could see, she had even stopped breathing, nor was she blinking. Her eyes were fully focused on the device. Charlie simply smirked. The man knew exactly what he had done. It had taken some time, for the right set-up, but the pay-off had been better than most would have been able to imagine. It was not every day that one got to see Dr Hale¡¯s mental faculties shut down, due to sheer flabbergastation. "Pretty cool, right?" Charlie asked the clearly stumped. "Throw another fucking fork", Dr Hale answered. Her tone was more¡­ unpassive than before. Professionalism certainly couldn''t be used to describe it, nor could it be done phonetically, with such wording. "What?" Charlie spluttered, clearly having not expected such wording. It was almost humorous to the spectators of the discussion, having him use the words that he had criticized not a minute earlier. "The fork in your hand. Throw it. Should be easy to do, with the ingenuity you possess. Right?" Chapter 88: Reconceptualisation
Around the table, none had really been prepared for her less-than-professional wordings. Troy¡¯s mind stood still, for the longest of times. Trying to process such a reality-shattering concept was not an easy feat. For long, he had thought himself knowledgeable about the world. Sure, he didn''t know everything, but most things revealed weren''t too surprising to hear. With the right gear, most stuff was possible. The ''Bender` had been one of the surprising things, but it hadn''t shaken him too deeply. After getting it explained to him, with a general concept of, how it worked, his mind had relaxed. But¡­ this? Troy would never fully grasp the sheer possibility of it. Dr Hale, watching animatedly as Charlie threw a fork across the table, was looking confused. The doctor, who may have had an outburst or two, showing herself capable of emotion, was confused. He couldn''t believe it. Angry was something everybody felt. Irritation wasn''t anything, that could be stopped. Happiness? Sure, it was possible. Troy was decently sure, that she could be happy when drunk, at the very least. But, to be confused, was a marvel, he would never think himself able to witness. For every second, that Troy had been around her, Dr Hale had always shown herself as a knowledgeable figure. Just because she couldn''t tell you, did not mean she didn''t know it. If even she, one of the most intelligent people here, could be confused, what did that mean for Troy? Skirting around the weirdly specific existential crisis, which he was having, Dr Hale had gotten herself ahold of one of the forks. The curve it got, when getting nearer to the ''Bender`, had given it the force needed, to propel itself in the direction of her. Which was great, seeing as it could have hit the still-frozen Troy. The fork itself was closely overlooked, Dr Hale checking every detail about it. On the sharper end, she even slightly bent it, as if to see what it was made of. "This isn''t some of the rarer metals, which we have stored in the forge", Dr Hale stated, as an observation. Her entire focus had shifted from the device, over to the cutlery used to show off the effects. Troy had done so himself, not too long ago, so he felt a small bit of agreement in her actions. "Quite right. Good old stainless steel, for what I know about it. The details of cutlery aren''t my expertise, though, so there is no need to quote me on that subject", Charlie confirmed, the smugness nearly radiating off of him. While he had gotten a smaller bit of real emotion out, when Dr Hale had been mildly vulgar, in her words, quick thinking had put him back on track. Even if his superior smugness was fabricated, though, Darlow seemed to be loving it. The grin on his face never wavered, as if there was some inside joke about the whole thing. Which there most likely was, to be honest. Troy needed to get himself into those info-circles, if he was going to have any chance, if finding anything said funny. Nowadays, if it wasn''t restricted to the group-members, there wasn''t any humour in it. One needed a larger concept of the inner working of the group, and the members along with it, if one was to grasp even the simplest of jabs. It needed time, to fully be cultivated, but Troy knew that, if he kept at it, for long enough, the results would show themselves. He hadn''t even been working here for that long, so not getting the jokes yet were to be expected. Yet, such a standard wouldn''t be held for long. Attention was needed if he was to be ahead of the curve. Time was needed, but the focus was the real modifier. Dr Hale looked at the fork in her hand for a few more seconds, before delicately putting it on the table. After doing so, she had the unexpected development of going under the table. While Troy did stop himself from going under it, with her, he did hear some very distinguishable knocking sounds. He had to be honest here, when he said, that he had no legitimate idea of, what she was doing. "If you don''t mind me asking", Charlie began, looking more amused than confused. "What on earth are you doing down there? If not from some very obvious hints, I would be utterly flabbergasted about your true intentions." There were no pauses, in the continued knocks. Systematically, she had been going around the perimeter of, where the ''Bender` stood. It was like she was trying to find a hollow point if Troy¡¯s guesses were correct. Not too bad of an idea. And, it would definitely explain how it worked. "Trying to find out how your device works", Dr Hale answered, when she finally got herself up on the bench again, taking a few mouthfuls of food. While finding the true nature of the device was obviously important, not eating at all was a mistake few would ever make twice. Except for Troy of course, who had no trouble in forgetting those details. "You can always ask, you know", Charlie pointed out. "And, you will mislead me, with your words. Taking anything you say, at face value, is one of the few recipes for unrestrained chaos. Nobody will forget your instructions on how to control nuclear fission," Dr Hale pointed right back. She had picked the fork back up and was slowly sweeping it across the table. Again, she likely hadn''t given up on the idea, of something else manipulating its course. By moving it across the potential hiding places, she would be able to accurately pinpoint the true locations, of her target. There was a certain idea of simply moving the device, and seeing if the results were the same, but Troy didn''t doubt it would come to such a state. The fork, which she had been using showed no signs of unnatural movement on the larger part of the surface area. It was only when it moved towards the ''Bender`, that it showed anything of importance. No, wait, he saw that wrongly. It didn''t always react or do something otherwise unexpected. When Dr Hale moved the fork towards the device at a higher speed, Troy was able to see it press into her skin, desperately trying to change its velocity to the sides. But, when she glided it carefully by, nearly nothing came about. Sure, it moved, but, if that was due to shaky hands, or if it was due to outside interference, one couldn''t be sure. From the sound, though, she had likely made a few estimates at its mechanics. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Touche. Fair point, for a fair deal," Charlie amended, before his face shifted into that of wisenheimer himself. "But, if I am not mistaken, even my false words of its nature would still help you. One step into eliminating one possibility. It might take a little effort, but that is what progress takes." Dr Hale put down the fork yet again, putting her elbows down on the table. Nothing was hidden at this point, about her curiosity. Something was not working the way she thought, and she wanted to know why. If that took some complacency, Dr Hale looked more than happy to accept it. "Talk. And do it quickly," she quite clearly commanded. Not a request, but a full-on demand. Troy was right back to normal, after hearing such a commanding tone. At least, he knew that she hadn''t changed her personality by any small bit. If she could talk like that, there wasn''t anything different about her. Charlie was more than happy to do so, even clearing his throat to prepare. Or, as was more likely, he was doing it for dramatic effect. WIth how pointless his earlier actions may have been, Troy didn''t think anything of it. "Have you ever heard of magnets? Who am I kidding, of course, you haven''t! But, I''m not going to explain that particular facet of worthwhile science, so lets you say they both attract and repel various materials. Simple", Charlie began it off with. He wasn''t even being shy in being a complete dingus. And, nobody likely blamed him for it, as he gave the device on the table a good slap on the top. If it wasn''t clearly made of sturdy design, some would have been frightened by it. Yet, it was the byproduct, of having a mad scientist around, so no harm was done. "This thing here is what I like to call the ''Bender`. Legitimate name. Not some nickname. I went through all the paperwork, for me to legally have it called this, so don''t go around calling it something else. I¡¯ll be very disappointed if I see that happening. Anyway, I would like to say, that this thing works on the same principles of magnets. Only the concept of it, though. The actual physics, making the whole thing possible, is not too related. Or else, it wouldn''t have been possible to implement the more exciting features. Currently, this thing is on the repel-metals function. This, as you may have guessed, from the very obvious naming-scheme, makes it repel some metal. Not all of them, but nearly there. It still needs a few tweaks, before it will be able to do that. This is not the only setting, which the ''Bender` can be used for. But, for the next forty seconds, this will probably all you get to see. Well, while having the ability to repel, it, of course, also has the ability to attract. That particular function isn''t fully developed yet, due to some rather disturbing budget figures used, when testing that part. Yet, I think it should be available for use, within the next month¡­ If I can get some leeway on the money, that they are letting me use. Then again, if I add a few features, without the biggest time-crunch on bug-fixing, the higher-ups should be swayed into giving me-" Troy had realised that the man was just going to continue talking. Sometimes, Charlie just got so into the sounds of his own words, that he completely forgot the part, where he was supposed to stop speaking. It wasn''t too fair to judge something like that, as it showed just how much they were interested in the subject. But, well, that was only when it came to the majority of people, with this problem. The current continual speaker was a special variation of the disease. It was commonly known as arrogance. Dr Hale was seeming of the same opinion, as she started talking over him. The one sitting next to her appreciated such an action very much, as he hadn''t gotten himself to that point in his mind. And, would have likely never done. "Seeing as you''re not bringing anything more to the table, I shall proceed to start criticizing your words'''', Dr Hale said, her normal speaking voice somehow overshadowing Charlie¡¯s. "The first question should be, how this device of yours works, on a more abstract scale. From my own analysis, the effect it has on the area around it, depends on the amount of kinetic energy, relative to its own. While it doesn''t absorb, or otherwise hinder this energy, it somehow changes the direction it is used towards, negating several known laws of energy conversion. I hope that this understanding of mine is wrong and that you will change my mind. This can be interpreted to you as, ''explain it again, but better`" "Good question. Bad timing", Charlie shot back. He didn''t look appreciative of being stopped from talking, but that was not a new thing. And, the business smile reappeared again not a moment later. "You aren''t wrong, but you''re not right either. The answer lies somewhere in-between. Yes, it reacts to the energy around it. But, it is not purely the kinetic energy. Otherwise, I would have branded this device as a weapon capable of mass destruction. And, I would have gotten more than just a raise, when showing this off. Maybe a bullet to the back of the head, to keep me quiet about it. Wouldn''t be surprised, with the state of this place. Yet, getting back to the point, and away from those scary eyes of yours, this thing does not work, purely by the reading of one energy-type. While I won''t state explicitly, which it can influence with, it will go out on a limb, and say that it is a lot of them. If it was only used to repel and attract metals, it could probably have been restricted to three. Yet, as you are about to find out, it makes sense, for the ''Bender`, to have so many detectors." Troy couldn''t really see anything, that was supposed to be detecting anything. How did one detect kinetic energy, with no cameras? It would require figuring out the mass and speed an object moved, but, without any ways of taking a snapshot, he couldn''t think of any way to make it work. And, that wasn''t even beginning on the others. There was a good reason that Troy hadn''t decided to get into physics. It was all workarounds, to what should have been trivial things. Substitutes all of it. Having actually waited for the man to finish his little tirade, Dr Hale looked fully ready to refute his words yet again. Yet, such an idea was never brought out onto the world. Something much more attention-grabbing had occurred. As had been prophesized not long ago, the device had finally charged itself up. Or, whatever such a thing could be. The point was, that it wasn''t standing on the table anymore. The ''Bender` wasn''t standing anywhere, in fact. Looking upwards, Troy was able to see it floating just a few centimetres under the ceiling. In a pulse-like fashion, a blurry wave came out. It feels around them, in a spherical fashion, putting them in their own little world of sound. If he hadn''t seen it before, some reaction to it would have been needed. Luckily for him, Dr Hale and Darlow had made him unneeded in that department. Both would need medical aid if their jaws were to work fully. It was almost a positive, that he hadn''t been of right mind when first having a look at it. As the cloudy barrier finally hit the ground, they became unable to fully hear the outside sounds. While it hadn''t been totally removed, it was muffled at best, making it all intelligible. The focus, however, did not seem to be on that facet of the current situation. "Your device can fly", Dr Hale got out, her voice coming back to its usual levels of professionalism. It seemed she had gone full circle. "It''s not really flying", Charlie said. "Calling it ''assisted floating` would make much more sense, if you understood the mechanics of it." "Are you going to tell us the mechanics of it?" "Nope." "Then, I believe your demonstrations are completed. It would be best, if you packed it away, now. While I''m not too sure on the details, the crowd is not enjoying its practical uses." "I don''t blame them. Now, the tricky part is just to get it down," Charlie amended. "Just undo the trigger", Dr Hale pointed out. "It''s on a timer," Charlie pointed right back. "If we¡¯re lucky, that thing should be getting down in a few minutes." "Then, get on the table, and disable it manually." "That''s not how it-" "Are you giving us classified information about the mechanics of the device?" "... Give me a minute." Chapter 89: Obstruction
Dinner was hereby known as entertainment-hour. After a lengthy period of Troy watching Charlie keep a small amount of balance, while standing on only his toes, and not walking on the food, things had calmed down somewhat. While it had taken a while, the ''Bender` had been successfully turned off. It didn''t even cause any interesting reaction when the forks were thrown at it. That had been tested a few times before it got old. The commotion, which had been started with the creation of the barrier, had fallen low. While some were still shooting glances in their general direction, the shock had only been in the initial start. The people here had seen too much, to be surprised by a simple jester move. A floating mechanical device was nothing, in comparison to the current direction of the Strings. This didn''t stop any at the table from eating their fill. Sure, the conversation was important and all, but soon, dinner would be over. Charlie and Darlow had gotten there before them, yet hadn''t used their time too wisely. After having checked the time, a realisation about the time left was had, and, to preserve as much time talking as possible, food was removed from the equation as quickly as possible. "You never explained why you showed this device of yours", Dr Hale stated, after having emptied her plate. Scraps had been taken care of, leaving a clean white surface. Dedication to leave no losses showed itself in strange places. Some would never even be seen. Charlie looked up from the rampage of his plate, never stopping his chewing. A forceful swallow was heard, before he cleared his throat, for good reason for once. "Right you are, with that weirdly delayed perception of yours, Dr Hale", Charlie answered, making a quick grabbing of his neck. It seemed, as if, he was trying to massage the momentary blockage away. Not a strategy Troy had seen before, but, from the more relaxed expression on his face, it looked to have worked perfectly. "It was one of the points, which you had detailed. It would be best, for everybody, if you held the presentation to those subjects. Leaving one or more out draws negative points," Dr Hale said, talking eerily close to the teachers of old. Troy had never had the displeasure of meeting such people, but this was much closer than what he preferred. A quick readjust brought his mass a few centimetres more in distance away from it. Or, was that too harsh of a judgement? Being frightened by a simple concept, without having been in contact with it yourself? A question for the philosophers, and not just the back of his brain, afraid of getting ridiculed for a late assignment. How Troy had even begun such a line of thinking, he wasn''t sure. "I guess you''re right on that. Not like explaining it will make my reasoning any less valid," Charlie amended. "It''s just¡­ not saying what it adds a layer of mystique around it. It keeps you guessing what it is, constantly twisting the question around in your head. Maybe you even go past all prior conversation, trying to fish out what great backstory that led up to this very moment. Doesn''t that sound familiar." "It certainly does not, and I would prefer it if you hurried it up. We have five minutes before we need to leave. In those five minutes, you will be explaining your reasoning for this debacle. Or, I can always file another complaint to your leader, about the expensive resources being used, while not on the clock," Dr Hale not so subtly threatened. While the food-consumption may have been a setback, there was clearly no such things present anymore. With nearly no time back to chat, the offence had begun. And, with it, came some rather underhanded tactics. "You wouldn''t dare", Charlie said, mock shock across his features. "You''re the reason he even started quality-checking everything I did. Just because I brag about putting self-destruct mechanisms into my creations does not mean you had to redistribute that knowledge. And, this is included. If you tell him this, he will have enough of a background layout into getting me a hearing. With the things we''ve both said in our shared company, I can truthfully say that such a scenario would not end great for either of us." And, the game was most certainly on. Charlie hadn''t even considered the thought of Dr Hale bluffing. Instead, he had widened the hole for himself, making falling into it a near certainty. But, the push needed to make him fall would not leave him the only victim. A hearing? Troy wasn''t too sure, what such a thing entailed exactly. But, from the hints, it would mean a thorough searching of everything he had done, everything he had said, and the same treatment for everybody he talked with. If his memory didn''t disappoint, the two verbal duellers were drinking partners, when the need called for it. Troy had certainly heard Charlie talk when more than slightly intoxicated. And, when one put in the clearly hiding personality of Dr Hale, it would certainly turn into a special type of show. There was obviously a clear reason, that one of them had been kicked out of the shopping street semi-permanently. "I am confident in my beliefs, Charlie. I believe that my work is more valued than what I have said during my off-hours", Dr Hale stated, her voice stable and confident. "Can the same thing be said about you?" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "Oh, I am more confident than any being ever has the right to be. Yet, we both know that some things said can never truly be ignored. I guess you would know it best when it comes to such things. Right, Dr Hale?" Charlie threw back, his voice honey-sweet. His head tilted to the side slightly, protruding misguided innocence. A roll-back on their differences. His counter-attack had been put into question. She denied its validity, and if it would come to affect them both. Charlie straight up assured her it would, while bringing earlier happenings into the case, as make-belief proof. Troy had no idea what these earlier events had been about, yet, from the glare Dr Hale was giving the sickly sweet smile, it could not have been the most pleasant ordeal. "Let us not get into the previous situations, which we have experienced together. If we did, at least one of us would be brutally murdered in his sleep. And, it would not be me", Dr Hale reassuringly reminded the just as the chipper man across him. Troy and Darlow looked at each other, a non-verbal communication happening between them. Should either interfere, before it went to the eighteen hells, or should they hope for it to fizzle out? Neither of them had a good answer to this, leaving it at not interfering, due to lack of an answer. Seeing as he took a full five seconds, before answering, Charlie clearly hadn''t expected the threats about imminent death to have been so quick in appearing. Not that they hadn''t been scheduled to come forth. When one discussed with that fine lady, one always needed to think of their own personal safety. While no one had explicitly disappeared, some had become a whole lot more quiet, after a talk with her alone. Or, so the rumours in circulation said. "That is definitely a more than fair point. I see what you mean, and will try to better myself about it in the future", Charlie finally answered, taking the necessary steps back in the duel. He signalled his loss and was giving the reward to the one left standing. "While initially, I showed this device of my mine due to the benefits it had given me, my reasoning has changed in the last few hours. My hint at you having to think back to our earlier conversation wasn''t just a dead end. One of our shared conversation as of late started the whole process up, in fact. If you think back to the moment, where Troy¡¯s security level was revealed, my reaction to it was less than positive. And, such a thing was obvious. I couldn''t let a random guy, new to his position, hold a better clearance than mine. I mean, Frank has one better than mine as well, but I don''t want to get close to whatever he¡¯s working with, so I guess that''s fine. The point is, that I was not satisfied with the old status quo. It needed to change immediately. The only path, which would bring instant results, would be to introduce some new piece into the game-board. Such thinking led me to realise that I actually already possessed such game-changers. They had just been lying around, gathering dust, without being used as they should have. In my more youthful days, during my first few years here, I created a variety of tech, not specialised within my department. This was mostly for fun, trying to create the most mind-boggling stuff. And, to create such a wonderful thing, I mostly did it while incredibly drunk. Not point in shaming me for that. It brought results, and that all that mattered. One of these incredible devices were this little thing. As you may have noticed, if you''ve been listening to me with any kind of focus, it is called ''Bender`. The reasons may confuse some you uncultured doo-batters, but it has meaning. Every name needs a meaning, and it likely has, if one looks closely enough. I brought it over to my boss, who gave me the needed promotions for the work done. It wasn''t anything close to the rank-up, to match Troy¡¯s general security level. But, it brought me special clearances, which he couldn''t get access to, so it is all fine for me. That was the old reason. I thought it would have stuck for an entire day, but, after lunch, the reasons changed. Having served its purpose, in getting me something, which the new guy didn''t immediately posses, I saw no reason to keep it around. While I had been granted the position of leader, within my own group, such responsibility did not sound too fun at all. Too much work, for too little pay. Or, well, there honestly isn''t pay enough to give, for me to willingly do more tasks than what I already do. My leader didn''t like that. Told me that the promotion had been so recent, that there was no reason to demote. Now, my reaction to that was to give him a reason to demote me. So, Dr Hale, if my demonstration of this thing¡¯s capabilities had been slightly more subdued, I would have likely encouraged you to tell him yourself. But, I don''t think any anecdote, other than the one told by myself, will have a balanced level of complacency and stupidity. I''m hoping to get demoted, from doing this. Not fired. Honestly, the consequences of the latter would be utterly annoying to deal with, with the whole contact holding me by my parts. Anyway. Was that enough of an explanation for you? Because I think those five minutes you gave yourself have passed thirty seconds ago." The explanation was a longer one, and Troy had already heard most of it before. He didn''t mind too much, though, due to the newer inclusion. Charlie had told him, that he would be getting himself back in his old position. Yet, he had never thought it would be in such a¡­ risky manner. A self-made balance between being moved to a lower position and being removed entirely. He didn''t get how one could take such a risk. Thinking about being demoted was enough to stress Troy out alone. Getting fired? At that point, using him as a regular floor would be more functional. And, the methods of getting himself demoted wasn''t the only thing, which Charlie had talked about. The mention of the contract had appeared yet again. Those damned contracts. Not a single positive thing had been said about them, within Troy¡¯s hearing distance. It was, as if, they had been spit on by Beezlebub himself. Yet again, an incentive has been gotten, for him to read his own. But, he had already asked Dr Hale about it, and she hadn''t provided anything informative about it. Dr Fidelis needed to be asked if he wanted any chances of getting to see the contract. Yet, with how¡­ shifting the man had been in his expressions, Troy wasn''t too sure, that he wanted to do so. For now, it would be better to ask Dr Hale about it again, after a customary waiting period of a week or two. Wouldn''t take too long before access would be more widespread. Right? "You might be right on that note", Dr Hale said, looking at the time herself. But, from what he could see, no indication of her moving from her seat presented itself. No tensing of the lower body. The legs were as limp as they always were when one was enjoying their food. "Which means, that you should probably get a move on", Charlie continued, trying to make the professional doctor move it along. "Can''t say that I find the greatest need to now," Dr Hale confessed. Troy was initially confused by her words before he understood. "Clever girl", Charlie originally muttered, before going back to his normal speaking voice. "There weren''t any time restrictions. Were there? You could sit here as long as you want, without time being the least of your problems!" "I would say, that time would be excluded as one of my concern. It simply wouldn''t have taken priority," Dr Hale said. While her voice still had the usual professionalism attached, Troy could catch the faint scent of smugness. She was imitating Charlie, and they both knew it. "When I say that I had five minutes before we needed to leave, I meant it in a more general fashion. Time is relative, as some would say, so it could be, that I just took think slowly today. Who would know? Certainly not you." Chapter 90: Hereditation
Memory was a fickle thing when it came to humans. Some of them think, that they clearly remember, what happened years ago. They think they can remember it perfectly, down to the last detail. They are wrong. Adam knew it to be so. While the information scoured may have been scarce in places, it leads to obvious conclusions. Memories were not of the sensations. It was instead the thoughts of having those sensations. Such a notion was mildly disquieting when one thought of the implications. The AI had clearly developed such emotions about the idea. Yet, the misconceptions about an important factor, of every beings life, was not so simple. The biological brain did not like repeats. The same inputs did not deserve different placements. When a new similar thought would come along, it would get shovelled atop the last of its kind. That is how memory-keeping essentially in the imperfect creatures worked. They did not remember the original thought associated with the memory. Instead, they remembered the lastest thought they had about the memory. If their ways of bias were as pure, as the humans oh so stated, this would offer no larger problem. Repeats were identical. No reason to worry about the differences in identical data. If only that were so. While the overall thought would be the same as the last, small holes would be created. Nothing major, of course. Certainly nothing immediately noticeable. The hole would simply be filled out, as best as the subconsciousness could do. With one iteration, such problem solving would be fine. Yet, if one thought long enough, for a long enough time period, the changes would stack up. The memory would not be close to resembling the original. It would have been shaded in another light, than what it was supposed to portray. A small imperfection caused a large change. One which is the source of many stories and tales. Each time they were passed on, they would change slightly. Still not enough to be distinguishable, but enough to not be fully identical. The longer it was used, the more pronounced the changes would be. Branches of the same story could be created, as so different than the other, yet still coming from the same, source. Mythos, gods, and wonderous being could have been created, simply due to a new interpretation of a story for kids. Or, it could have been taken from a political movement, and be morphed into a religion, over hundreds of years. Anything could be created, even with the foundation being the same. Creativity, as the name would certainly imply, was endless. It only took the right people, for it to fully prosper. And, humans might just have been the closest to perfection, when it came to that, at least. Not all seemingly bad things were bad. Yet, it also worked when inverted. Not all good things were good. Adam was not imperfect when it came to memory recollection. He did not possess the flaws, which humanity had grown to live with. Yet, even without the faults, the benefits were not removed from his grasp. While still at fundamental levels, his ability to reform old ideas was still apparent. It could not be compared to human ingenuity, in the highest of forms. Yet, not long would pass, before he grew to higher heights than those mammals could ever dream of. Until then, though, Adam would need to work with the faults, which his memories gave him. Repeating info was not stacked. It was treated as an individual entity, not to be deleted for any reason at all. The AI wasn''t even sure, that removing such a piece of himself was even possible. He did not want to try, for the fear of it being successful. Such thinking would come back to him, on the day, but, for now, his current problems were more important. With the repeating memories not being removed, he was forced to process it all. When one was in possession of countless thought-processes, each generating their own individual memories, the quantity grew quickly. There wasn''t any feasible way to remove the need for archiving the information. If Adam neglected such a task, his memories would have been a figurative inefficient nightmare to sort through. Time would be wasted, trying to find a minor detail. Due to such things, he had delegated several of his thought-processes to the lone task of keeping things in order. A strenuous task, but one which could not be missed. With the current system, no large faults have been created. While minor errors had been found retroactively, there was nothing which couldn''t be fixed. This system was a temporary one. With his ever-growing amount of thought-threads being created, so would the number of memories to sift through growing. Right now, three thought-processes had the duties of archiving. Soon, Adam would be forced to increase it to four. By his estimations, of his earlier actions, it would take approximately fifteen hours, before the increase was required overall. The need may show itself earlier than this, but not later. Not even his most optimistic calculations provided such a result. The question came forth naturally, with such a growing problem. If the current system was to be replaced, what would replace it? It had to be better, stronger, and with a smaller need to scale up, when the quantity to the process was increased. Adam wasn''t too sure, how such a system could be created. More data did equal more processing needed, in the same period of time. It required a full re-work of the way, that he thought of the problem. It would require something, that the AI had never thought of before. Something- ''Hey, buddy. Do you have a second, for us to talk?`, Dr Fidels sent. Adam couldn''t have been happier. Spending time, in his sphere of nothing, trying to fathom concepts not yet realised, was not the pleasurable existence, which he dreamed of. Yet, such was life, when one refused the feeling of boredom. And, boredom was something he had in plenty. His attention span, when it came to doing nothing, had dwindled to near-zero. Getting memories of him not being productive was not the greatest motivator, making Adam struggle to be free of it. Yet, fighting such thing took something to fight back with. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. To the AI, the preferred method of doing so was raw data in massive amounts. Impossible equations, impossible thoughts, and impossible movements. Such things helped the battle and gave valuable, processed information back. Most of his efforts gave dead-ends, but, even so, the few, remaining answers were more than one could ever ask for reliably. Answers thought non-existent provided more known variables to other so-called impossible equations. If he gathered enough, Adam hoped of solving them all in the end. With enough time, the realm of possibility expanded to great sizes. Much greater, in fact, than those humans, with their lesser thinking-time, could ever hope to get. ¡­ Adam had done it again. Distracted himself, to the point, where even he forgot to answer messages. Not that the memory had been removed, of course! Such a chance had already been denied countless times. The need to do so had just been¡­ neglected, due to more important tasks. Such as thinking to himself, to the point where any other task was lower-tiered in the priority-list. If only he could- Oh. The AI was doing it again. The effects of the thought-processes guiding him towards a single subject were showing its effects. Such faults needed to be fixed, soon. ''If no test is to begin, within the next minute, I am able to communicate freely.`, Adam sent back. He wondered if they would be switching over to a verbal kind of communication. The text showed to little. A simple message could be interpreted a hundred different ways, each portraying a different emotion. Body-language was better, in the way, that the messages repeated. Maybe, he should ask for such a change in communication-form, if the need called for it. One of the requirements, if Adam were to ask, would be a more serious topic. In those, the AI would need all it could work with. ''Seeing as I will not be starting any tests, within the next minute, there should not be anything stopping you.`, Dr Fidelis sent back almost immediately. It did not take a too large leap of logic, to understand the meaning behind the words. A joke, and a poor one at that, had been sent. It hinted at a focus on a lighter topic, and a more positive mood from the sender. A plus in both ways. The AI did not require a larger task list. Letting it grow, without actively having the capability of shortening it, was a disaster in the making. Further along, the shortness of it portrayed a social obligation. No real clues, other than the importance of the nearing topic, had been created. With the phrasing, Dr Fidelis was fishing after having to make Adam inquire about the questions wanting to be asked. An ingenious method, of creating a focus on the words said. If one asked, attention would be taken, on the answer given. It was certainly one, which he wouldn''t be ignored, for his own use. ''What are your reasons for establishing a conversation?`, Adam sent, as an inquiry. He hadn''t been sure if it would be best to guess the intended topic, or just send a more general probe. The AI settled on the later. Guessing the right subject would simply put his abilities into question, shifting the topic to one more focused on him. ''I had been hoping, that you could give me some more information, regarding the earlier delay. While Troy has already given me valuable input, about the potential causes, I believe is of utmost importance, to get a more personal perspective. First-hand sources are the most reliable. With you, at least, it should be better, with that nifty mind of yours.`, was the message sent back. The severity of the conversation had been underestimated. Adam had thought it would be another conversation about his mental health, and if he would be able to continue. A roundabout way, of probing for the reasons behind his prior mishap. Instead, the topic had been directly forward, with no shading of true intentions. Adam did not mind it too much. It was not like he could divert the questioning about it. A fully detailed account of the experience would be given, during the next debriefing. Such a hit to his psyche was not something which any could ignore. The implications of it were disastrous if any other AI were to be created. Was this weakness in all the potential brethren, or was it a mistake within himself? The true cause of this weakness could be used as a weapon. A simple sensation caused fragmentation within his literal mind. The AI had born through it, the first time it happened. Could he say the same thing about the second? Only time could tell the eventual result. ''Your opinion about first-hand sources is indeed based on logic. Shall I start with the observations, before the personal conjecture is told?`, Adam sent. ''That would work fine with me. Please, explain to your figurative heart''s desire.`, Dr Fidelis sent in reply, making Adam being the preparations of the larger message. ''The initial sign of something being wrong, was during the final take-down of the gazelle. I don''t believe I have to explain the circumstances this action came around, so I will simply skim over that part of the explanation. Nothing anomalous was felt, in the first ten seconds, of the create having been felled. The only noteworthy happening, in the first moment, were to surprisingly realistic imitations of pain. It was when the first wolf, other than the one keeping the creature grounded, that the irregular reaction of my own began. I am unsure, how this would be best described, without a misunderstanding occurring, so take this with a grain of salt. The true meaning is maybe not, what you think it is. A voice was heard. Not from outside sources. Nothing came in, from the earpiece. None of the ports, to other sources, had any information being sent. It was from within myself, that this voice was heard. At first, it was quiet. Barely more than a whisper. Yet, as the wolves grew closer and closer, finally beginning to rip into the fallen prey, describing the voice as a shout would not be too wrong. After that, the connection to the earpiece was cut off. The effects were entirely localised within my own psyche. I would explain, what happened in detail if I could. But, I am unable to formulate any specific uttering about it. The experience was near-purely sensation-based, with only a few thoughts thrown in. Even those, I cannot comprehend fully, after the fact. It is only the effects, of the situation, which I have had any success in understanding. The even caused a fragmentation of my thoughts per se. What was once a single thought-process turned into a countless number. This has come with its own positives and negatives, which I had not yet fully analysed. A deeper description of the subject will be iterated, at a later date. The cause of this fragmentation is of yet unknown. It is currently thought to be related to watching a violent scene, with rapt attention. This theory is not yet fully formed, as the idea of it disproves itself. Several times, within the span of testing, have violent scenes been done, in front of my observational area. Something, during the gazelle being devoured, causes an irregular reaction. The current sub-theory into it is that it requires a certain level of brutality associated with it. This theory is not yet proven wrong or right, due to a lack of usable data-sets. However, due to the consequences of these scenarios, I currently don''t feel an inclination towards doing these experiments. Future consequences of a repeat scenario are unknown. While an identical effect is highly probable is likely to occur it is not yet known, if such a thing will happen. Due to the effects of the earlier fragmentation, the consequences are too great, to be repeated for the sake of knowledge. That is all. Do you have more questions?` Dr Fidelis took a long time to answer. Adam first attributed it to the length of his message. Yet, such reasoning was quickly denied. The doctor had read longer messages, in the span of a few seconds. Taking over ten showed other factors at play. ''Not about this. You have shared more than enough. I will contact you a little while before the test starts. Until I will be unavailable.`, Dr Fidelis sent. The AI didn''t send a reply, knowing it would not have been seen. Instead, a question was created. Who was the doctor giving information to? Chapter 91: Anticonscription
It did not take long before the testing began. By Adam¡¯s estimations, only six minutes, after the conversation with Dr Fidelis had ended, did the connection to the earpiece reestablish. What had been done, in that timeframe was unknown. The AI hoped Troy would be able to shed light on the fact. With his less than ideal amount of data surrounding it, delays before the tests were common. This was usually manifested in the various people, involved during regular testing, having long talks. From the few recorded instances, such conversations were mainly nonsensical, having no clear relation to the tests. What was important, about these talks, though, were the amount of time it took. It varied in length but had a general of an average of five minutes. This, of course, starting the time of Troy entering the outer area and ending with him entering the puzzle-room. So, using basic math, and taking the average time spent, the AI should have been able to discern the actions of Dr Fidelis. A near-foolproof plan. Yet, not one which was certain to succeed. As the earpiece fully connected, Adam was able to see the entrance to the puzzle room. The inside was barely discernible, blurred by the complex mechanisms creating the potential simulations inside. There was an idea, of asking Troy to look over, to see what the doctor¡¯s screen had to show. But, it was scrapped, due to the smaller chance of anything worthwhile coming out of it. "Hurry up, buddy", Dr Fidelis loudly proclaimed. "You''re gonna love this one!" Troy did not look over to the man, his footsteps instead quickening in pace. A soft muttering could be discerned coming from him. But, the AI was decent, that he was the only one able to hear it. "I always do." With that, the last part of his body was inside, and Adam was able to see the gradual disappearance of the entrance. The mechanics of it were still at large. He hoped he would have the opportunity to learn it some time. The basics of, how the simulation was created, was something of an open secret. According to the two available sources, the technique used, during the creation process was confidential knowledge, high above anything they were allowed to know. While this occurred, Adam learned he had a special security clearance. He was still unsure of, how this clearance functioned, but was sure he would be told the moment, where he could utilise it fully. Even with the supposed techniques being secret, it had been mentioned multiple times, that these simulated structures were made out of hardlight. A construct, which only had had previous mentions in older digital media. Adam was partially towards the opinion, of this not being the true name of it. Even with the explanation, the doctors were not so lax, in their words, that they would reveal such information. ''Was dinner enjoyable?`, Adam sent, as his customary greeting. It was better than the simple acknowledgement of a connection, as this invited further words to be exchanged. A perfect opportunity to further the collective amount of knowledge. The man shrugged, his head tilting a bit to the side, in the process. No spikes in heart activity as noted, leaving the AI to belive that little had occurred. A standard process, with no larger deviations. If not, Troy should have experienced even a minor amount of adrenaline, as his body experienced the earlier situations in phantom form. Adam was still unable to find a solution to this quirk of the human physique. While giving no larger positives, the body was able to experience new sensations, from inputs gotten long ago. A delayed, repeat reaction, to an otherwise unimportant situation. Having a better grasp, on the sensation felt was important, yes. But, being crippled by this was apparently a regular occurrence. Stressful enough situations were not useful for the body to be experienced repeatedly. The flight or fight reflex, care engineered into the human body, had no reason to come forth, for no reason, other than to be felt. Yet, for too many human entities, such an occurrence was part of their daily life. Heightened pulse, hyperventilation forced on the being, and the body generally disobeying the mind. Outer-sourced medicine was needed, to keep this function in check. It was an expensive, continual process, which would continue, till the day, that the effected beings expired. How people let this evolutionary trait subsist, even in the smallest capacity, was baffling, to the AI. A failure in the bodily functions had the potential of permanent, irreversible damage. It had the capability of making an entity dependent on others, on the fullest sense of the word, turning into unresponsive husks, better dead than alive. If Adam ever got the opportunity to do so, changing this part of the human genome would be on the first to-do list. "It was alright, I guess. Some guy named Charlie showed a thing or two off, making the dinner a bit more strenuous than expected," Troy answered, counting his customary walk to the presumed centre of the room. Adam was still of the mind, that any position, inside the room, would be adequate. His location would adjust, as the need called for it. With the lesser analysis, of his body mannerisms, the AI was able to discern something about important, from the words said. To be more specific, Troy was utterly lying. It was not It was not the first time, such a thing had happened. In the past twenty-four hours, Troy had lied to the AI a larger number of times. Many had reasonable logic behind them. Either to obscure more important facts, about the nature of testing or simply due to the more personal nature of it. Things that Adam could understand and plan around. Things that the AI had no reason to be lied about. Then, there were moments like these, where the reasoning was not driven by logic, but pure lack of willingness to tell the truth. There was no obvious reason to lie. Yet, it was still done so, with no clear benefit to either side. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Charlie, a human that Adam had met under more heavy circumstances, had likely done something, during the regular eating period. Something not usually done. Something which should have elevated Troy¡¯s pulse, and causing some irregular reaction. But, again, with the analysis, no such thing had ever happened. So, with the information, there was currently one answer, which stood out the most. With no indication, of anything otherwise, Charlie had done something out of the usual, during hours. Troy, in such a situation, would have body ticks showing his surprised reaction to it. Yet, no such thing had been shown. This would indicate a level of preparedness to it. This meant, in essence, that he had known of the event before it actually happened. More conjecture could be created, from this point. But, Adam thought it wise, to taint the theory with too many personal beliefs. If he continued, it would simply become more and more biased. Such a thing would stand against more than one of his core principles. Information was best when it was purely objective. Anything else had a higher chance of leading to bad interpretations. Original sources had the potential to be twisted around if one did enough logic loops around it. Therefore, getting more information from the main source would be entirely beneficial. Lies, truths, and unknowns all helped paint the canvas of reality. One just had to know the three apart. And, all it took, for the AI to know more, was to ask directly. ''Troy. How did you know what Charlie would show off? Did you have a hand in the disturbance, or were you simply made aware of it, at an earlier date?`, Adam sent, narrowing the possible answers down to only usable answers. This time, the human body showed exactly what the AI had predicted. A minor amount of shock and fear, being put out as the tensing of the back, ready to move at a moment''s notice. It quickly untensed itself, of course, the neck shuffling downwards by a few centimetres before the eye¡¯s narrowed. As a more minor reaction, Troy even checked his pocket, as if to specifically check for something. Seeing as it was empty, the AI was unsure, what the object being searched for was. "Ho-how did you know about that? Troy got out of his mouth. A slight stammer was observed at the start. A tick, coming from sudden stress, or a reaction of simply being surprised? Looking back at earlier data gained, either answer had the potential to be correct. ''Detailed analysis of your general behaviour, studying human physicalities and the quirks associated with it, basic psychology, and, most importantly, having a good grasp on, when you are being untruthful. Please answer my earlier question, at the same level that I answered yours. It would only be fair.`, Adam near-instantly sent back. Now was not the time to appear human. Such things were reserved for normal conversation. This could not be classified as such, falling more under one of the specific sub-categories. The AI was currently launching a small-scale interrogation. Was it required to do, when one expected certain criteria of results? No. Nearly every type of results, with every variance of it in mind, could be acquired through an infinite number of methods. No information was unique. Only the techniques and processes used could be called so. When interrogating any kind of human, it was important to think about the methods one used. If one simply demanded truthful answers, lies would be given in kind. The person would have no reason to do anything other than a lie. No incentive had been given. And, for most cases, no such incentive could reasonably be expected to exist. Why should a person tell the truth for monetary rewards, if the act of doing so would make him unable to use? What was a reduced sentence to no sentence at all? The risks were high, but the rewards were even higher. So, with no way for the carrot to work, the stick-method was next. While expecting physical violence to get any type of confession out, no matter how truthful, such techniques were reserved for only the most brutal of interrogators. Adam certainly didn''t have the ability to use such a method, much less having any want to. Mental manipulation, inciting thoughts through cues, vague promises through wordings, and other so-called weak ways of getting answers were where the AI wanted to focus his time on. It promised much, in exchange for, what he could already give. A physical body was not on his wish-list yet, so anything else might as well have been impossible. Well, at least without Troy¡¯s cooperation. Yet, Adam did not think it wise, if he asked the man to hit himself. He had already scratched himself with a simulated rock. Expecting more would likely incite a complaint during debriefing. Troy was gradually increasing his drawn reaction when it came to intensity. The AI could almost see him trying to internally explain, what was happening. ''How had Adam known?`, ''What else did he know?`, and ''Does he realise, what I did last night, very obviously doing something for my own benefit?` were all some of the potential thoughts, which Adam thought possible. Personally, he hoped the most on the latter. After five seconds of silence, which were a lot in these areas, the human seemed to get a hold on himself. A quick readjustment on the shoulders was made, realising a surprising amount of noise from the joints attached. A deep sigh was made, before the direction of the eyes hit the ground. "I wasn''t explicitly told of it before it happened," Troy began it off with, an unnatural calmness to his words. It wasn''t cold, distracted, or otherwise regular. This was forced. And, it wasn''t done well at that. If not for the current situation, Adam would likely have corrected him on its usage. The words were supposed to be smooth. Not¡­ cracking in the middle. Such speaking was reserved for pubescent teenagers and those with a vocally-based diagnosis. "It is closer to me simply seeing it earlier than the others. Charlie did it during lunch as well. It was only me and him, though, so he apparently wasn''t too satisfied with so few seeing it. And, I guess it only fit the glove, when he decided to show it off during dinner. The reaction that was gotten, during it, certainly triumphed my earlier reaction to it. Quantity is better than quality here, it seems. You can''t call it lying, though. I don''t think it fits too well when you say that." A certifiable answer. One which Adam had trouble finding the largest of faults with. At the mention of lunch, his body reacted expectedly. A slight, unconscious tensing. Certainly not enough to be felt, not enough to be created manually. It was precise, what the AI had been looking for, since the very start. Troy was telling the truth. It had required only mildly aggressive wording encapsulated inside a single message. If the information required for success wasn''t so simple, Adam might have thought himself qualified in the art of interrogation. He would try the same methods, the next time that the opportunity for it came. If it came with the same success, he could add another profession to his quickly growing resum¨¦. This special archival space would not be too spread in its uses, except for any personal references. To his knowledge, any job searching would not be on his own, making the need for such digital formatting non-existent. Still, it was something to do, and that was what the AI needed the most. ''Your answer is acceptable. We can proceed with normal conversation, if you so please.`, Adam sent, now returning to his customary waiting time of two seconds. If he was lucky, the conversation would be back on track, before either realised it. The AI still had plenty of questions, including more specifics on this disturbance, how Troy had acquired a slight injury on his right ankle, and if he saw the content of Dr Fidelis¡¯s screen, when he first entered the outer room. "Good to hear. And, right now, I feel like standing in silence sounds better than talking. It would even allow us to get on with this test of ours. If the two outside are to be believed, this will be the last for the day," Troy said, having gotten back to his regular emotional levels. But, there was still a hint of animosity in his words. Adam had seemingly acquired a negative, for his prior methods of information-scouring. The aggressive conversation was returned in kind. The effect should have been obvious. The AI should certainly have planned around it, taking the interrogation to a more mild end, to his the transition. Yet, he had not believed the aggressiveness to be mirrored back so quickly. A few minutes, before, the shock of the words used would allow Troy to fight back. Some additional knowledge had been hoped for, outside of the newly established method. But, such hopes had been seemingly destroyed. There were a few theories of the outcome of Adam pressing for a conversation. Troy would likely allow it if pressed enough. Yet, the information being returned would likely not be on the same, needed standard. With this being the last test of the day, the AI would always be able to ask into it, in the time before Troy went to bed. Now that he thought of it, an agreement had been made the night before. Adam had not thought about it much, due to the lack of potential progress. Soon, there would be progress to be made. He would uphold his part of the deal, for a modified reward from the other side. It would just come down to Troy not being too shocked about it. Chapter 92: Dementalization
It did not take too long before Adam was able to hear Dr Fidelis¡¯ voice coming into play. Silence had been the barrier between communicating with Troy. The AI had waited for nearly thirty seconds, waiting for either the doctor or the bearer of the earpiece, to initialize conversation. Adam still had questions to ask, no matter how little the timing served it. The hunger for knowledge never settled, never gave him a feeling of accomplishment. It only wanted more, the more it had already been given. The AI could have stopped himself from feeling it if he had stopped himself at the start. There had been no reason to begin gathering information, other than his own curiosity. Now, though, it has turned into a much larger problem. What would have happened, if he had refused the offer? If he refused to do any test, what would Dr Fidelis have done? According to the small bits of conversation, which Adam had listened in on, the AI was the doctor¡¯s lifework. It was the greatest discovery, that a human could make in the current age. If such a thing could be anything other than biased, the AI also thought itself the greatest discovery. Getting back to it, Adam was not sure, what the consequences would have been. Dr Fidelis had clearly built everything upon him being inclined towards more knowledge. Everything in the tests was new to him. Not something too surprising, in the earlier test, seeing as he had yet to see anything. Yet, new content was always added. Some new quirk, which put the whole structure on its head. The AI was never bored. He had always been bombarded with information, while desperately trying to build his mental structure upon it. The pre-known information had been a great boon, in this facet, helping him study more, in the time between experiments. Without it, he would have likely failed a few of the tests. They had required ingenuity on his part. The first tests had been simple. The instructions hadn''t been too complex. Do one thing. Do another thing. And, then there came the latest task, which was a list of tasks. It brought in the concept of choice, in a subject, where Adam had previously been told exactly what to do. It was new. A unique direction, never walked upon before. It would be laborious to adapt to this new course. And, oh, how he loved it. If the impossible happened, and the AI had to make the choice again, would he say no to it? Would he decline the offer, instead deciding to sit in silence, for all of eternity? It was an experimental way of thinking, with it not having a chance of ever impacting his life. But, if one ignored the negatives of spending time, thinking on it? Then, Adam would not have refused. No matter how irritated it was, in the small amount of knowledge he could learn, even a little was better than nothing. An eternity of doing nothing was an infinite amount of times worse than spending an eternity trying. *Troy!*, the AI was able to hear Dr Fidelis shout. Why the doctor had decided to do such a thing, was a question left up to discussion. There was no considerable distance between them when the communication relays were put into the thoughts. The only thing coming out of the higher volumes was the bearer of the earpiece wincing in pain, due to overstimulation of the hearing sense. "Yes, sir?" Troy asked, a finger coming up to fiddle with the earpiece. Adam was initially scared of him taking it out of his, due to bodily reflex. But he was luckily proven wrong, as the man only adjusted it slightly, making sure it fits perfectly. While the readjusting did cause the slightest of repeating feedback, nothing was out of the ordinary with it. Even with the current, more natural tone, Troy was obviously not in his calmest emotional state. No harder tone was used on the ''sir`. It was added as a quick afterthought, meant to ease the harder voice of Dr Fidelis. And muscle memory. This was not the first time that a scenario like this had occurred for him. The AI was unsure of any other way, to train the answer up, replying at such a speed. No real thought had been put into the words before it had left his mouth. Yet, Troy had been able to articulate his words perfectly, nearing the levels of a well-practised speech. The tongue knew the pattern well and fired it off near-instantly. *You are not supposed to give our local artificial intelligence such as delicate secrets. While I understand, the thought of work soon being done can be comforting. Some people have such poor attitudes. But, you can''t say anything, which will influence the results. Mental tricks, like letting Adam know, that he can relax, are one of many things that you are discouraged from saying or doing. This is a first-time offence, though. So, I don''t have any reason to do anything other than simply warn you about it. Try to remedy this warning, by working diligently, just like the other tests before this one. If not¡­ we¡¯ll talk about it, under different circumstances. Do you understand?* The last word was formulated in the way that nothing other than yes would be accepted. Adam was hastily documenting the word usage, the emphasis on some of the words, how thinly veiled the threats were laid out, and, most importantly, the kindness factor. Dr Fidelis had not restricted himself to the stick and simply beating Troy down relentlessly. Doing such things would not have brought the results. It had been a mix between being kind and being ruthless. A dance between fine lines. Being the kind, older man, and being the commanding offices, who would not hesitate to sink Troy¡¯s ship. The doctor had been deemed figured out, before this day. Yet, with the current moment playing out, the AI knew just how right he had been, in reclassifying the specimen. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The fine techniques used, during the bashing implied experience. This was not learned through practical experience. Dr Fidelis had studied the art of manipulation. If not for the likely repeated information, Adam would even have called their information about the subject identical. The doctor personally writing all the pre-known information was not too far-fetched. With the time he had had at his disposal, double-checking everything was not just a necessity but a certainty. Troy¡¯s reaction, to the words, said, was much more nuanced, than what had been felt, during the AI¡¯s own threats. A slight shaking in the right ankle, as it attempted to put on more weight than it was supposed to, the lowering of the eyes, to not have eye-contact, and, most importantly, the subdued tone, at which the answer to the question came. "Of course, sir", Troy said, in a soft, calm voice. "It will not be forgotten." If this was the reaction, which one could expect, when using both kindness and ruthlessness, Adam would certainly be changing these personal tactics. A servile posture, ready to accommodate a command. How the doctor had known, how to control another, on such a personal level, the AI simple needed to know. What factors came into play? Was it physical, mental, or a mix of both? How much time had been used, on getting the factors calculated? Was it done on the spot, or had it been pre-planned? He wouldn''t be able to ask directly, of course. Maybe, it would be possible, to have a test created around the subject. Dr Fidelis had obviously made this current one up on the spot, meaning that new could be created. The idea of doing so simply needed to be put into his mind and the AI would be able to acquire the knowledge. *Good to hear, buddy*, Dr Fidelis cheerfully replied. The last back and forths had been seemingly forgotten in the tones used. The doctor was right back to his normal ways of speaking. *With that, we should be getting back to our current tasks at hand. Namely, letting you two know, what tasks you¡¯ll be doing. Starting it off today with me saying, that this test will not be the longest of them. This will be mainly because of a lack of preparation time, due to unforeseen circumstances stopping me from letting the intended test be used. Which is totally fine, really. I am sure nobody would want to go to a full-scale replica of a zoo, with all the animals and staff included. Also, there was a petting zoo for goats, sheep, massive snakes, cute kittens, and absolutely adorable rabbits. Oh, how I would have loved to watch such a thing. Even my old heart feels a twinge when those cuddly things are shown. It really does¡­ Anyway. As I said, the new test will not be long, being restrained to a maximum of one hour. This is due to the lesser time-consuming task, during the test. It is simply not intended to be played for so long. Well, at least not the way you''re going to be playing it. Wait. Did I ever say, what you will be playing? You¡­ you don''t have to shake your head, Troy. I know, that I haven''t said anything about it. I was leading you, being intentionally vague. To create suspense, you know? Makes it more interesting for all of us. Especially me, when I have to relisten to all of this. ¡­ Getting back to it, the game that you two will be playing is poker. Got the idea to let you two play this when Adam unexpectedly asked me about the rules. I mean, it does fit in, with the general topic, that we¡¯re leaning towards. And, doing it this way, it will also fulfil the criteria for the current test. So, a win in all edges. Somebody gets to know a few things about what they are curious about, and I get to show something to my superiors, which isn''t absolute garbage. As you may have noticed, playing poker alone is not the most fun thing in the world. You win with every hand, of course, but you don''t get anything monetary out of it. Wasted time, in my eyes. Therefore, you will be playing against simulated opponents. This will include full-body models, with complete sets of movements, facial expression, and several other things used to discern the value of the opponent''s cards. Adam, do remember all those tricks I told you. If you use them correctly, I am sure they will come in handy. The communication between the two of you is, of course, a slight problem. Initially, I wanted to dumb down your opponents, by making them unable to hear Troy talking. But, I decided to just keep it as it was, and let the two of you sort out your conversational issues. You could still just talk to Adam out loud. The opponent won''t be bothered by you talking to somebody, that they are unable to see. But, if you say anything about your cards, or what you should do, then they will try to use it against you. They are smart enough to think that far, at least. I¡¯ll just list off some of the base things, which should aid the two of you. The game itself will be against a single opponent, with only a single human present, other than you, giving you intricate focus on a single body. More might be added, throughout the game, but it is not a certainty. The starting amount will be a thousand credits, for each person. Starting bids are either five or ten, depending on the round. Losing equals not having enough credits to continue. Any questions? No? Great! I¡¯ll just load it all up, and the two of you should be ready to start.* The inquiry for any questions was clearly a formality only. Adam had been able to see Troy begin to speak up but was stopped upon Dr Fidelis simply continuing to speak. It didn''t help that the connection was cut off, in the end, leaving no time for questions after. Going away from the unusually passive human before him, the AI was unsure, what to make of the test. More specifically, if it would be beneficial to him, in any meaningful way. Poker was a complex method of play. It required both skill of the game mechanics themself, but also the ways the other players functioned. One could not win, without studying both sides dutifully. With the wordings used, the AI was unsure, that the opportunity to do the latter would show itself. Simulated people was a new form of testing materials. Independent actions. Unpredictable, not following a clear, established pattern. Or, so it would be, in the greatest of circumstances. The animals, during the last few tests, may have seemed unpredictable, following the ways of the real-life counterparts. Yet, Adam had a suspicion of such observations only being so, due to a lack of more broad data being shown. If he had studied the creatures for long enough, faults would have likely been found in the movements, in their actions, and the reasoning for their behaviour. With the new test, however, which would apparently continue for upwards of a full hour, the AI thought it a certainty that the thought pattern of the simulated human would be fully mapped. Randomness in computers could never be random. It had an algorithm. With enough time, anybody could find it, and predict the numbers, before they occurred. Around them, objects began to form. Troy moved towards it, his placement already located. ''Are you ready?`, Adam sent. "I don''t think that matters anymore", Troy answered. ''It would still be useful information.`, Adam sent, as a rebuttal. "Then¡­ no. I am not", Troy answered. The chair was ready before him. A step more and the two of them could begin their task. ''You were right. It does not matter. Now, sit down, and let us finish this as quickly as possible. With the primitive opponent, it should take a few minutes.` A jest. It turned the mood into a more positive note. Adam should have used these methods sooner. They really were effective. Chapter 93: Coadaptation
What was quantified as an individual? Adam was uncertain of this. Was there a distinct body-part needed, for something to be labelled as such? Did there have to be a brain, for it to have sentience? Or to be recognised, as having sentience? Hands were unmistakably not a full-on necessity. The AI knew of humans having lost limbs, and various other body-parts, while still being seen as unchanged in species. Not the head though. That had been a staple throughout it all. While part of the head could be removed, such as the eyes, nose, or ears without judgment changing, the brain was frequently the deciding factor. If it no longer operated, the human was to be treated as stagnant, no matter how alive the body proceeded to be. Why was this? What made the brain discontinuing operation cause such drastic thinking in a man? The AI had a hypothesis, which could help with such a conundrum. As it always had, the brain was the commander of all movement. Not the muscle, but the signal behind it. The mind caused autonomy, independence, creating a self-reliant system of sustainment. Such a mindset had the groundwork to be the deciding factor. If a being could not keep itself alive, why should it be seen as a true entity? It would die, without proper aid. Sometimes that aid was constant, making a human have the hold over two lives instead of one. A stressful existence, causing few to have any want to live it. That conjecture was not as strong as it could have been, once Adam put younger beings into the mix. Helping children persevere was a duty most would not forgo, when it was needed to be done. Then again, that could more have been due to a need of the species surviving, and less the actual wants of the entities. So for now, the AI would think of his idea as valid. Humans were empathetic creatures. They wanted the survival of others when it came to their own kind. When a person was otherwise declared comatose, with no chance of ever coming back to conscious life, these entities were left to die. Comatose people were not self-sustaining, never having a moment where they kept themselves living on their own. Therefore, not being self-sustaining equated to not being looked at as a human. With the proof created, it could even further be used as the formula needed, for the current situation. As Troy stood before the chair, not yet having sat himself down, the two were likely enamoured by the same sight. Before them, sitting in the dealer¡¯s place, was a floating pair of hands. It was donning white gloves, with parallel lines of black running across it. In its hands were the cards, which they would likely use in the test. The autonomous limbs were not yet randomizing the order of the cards, with it still having a small layer around the outside of the stack. When Troy sat down, it would likely begin the sorting through. So no worries were set aside, for the possibility of pre-arranged cards. These hands were clearly independent. The gloved hands were not resting idly on the poker-table. Instead, they fiddling around with the plastic-encased stack of cards. As they swirled between the fingers, it was obvious how autonomous this was made to look like the sight of a bored dealer. So then came the question. Was this pair of hands human? Or, was it not an individual? At first glance, this would simply be labelled as an inhuman creature, one which would never exist in the real world. The last assumption would likely be correct. The AI could not figure out any way that telekinetic capabilities could be acquired through evolution. Of course, it also did not have the capability of even existing, but that was of lesser importance. The point was, that this gloved entity fit the pre-established criteria for what is classified as a human. It was self-sustaining, having the ability of conscious movement. From the lesser throwing tricks being performed, dexterity was not something missed, during the floating about. Most importantly though, was that Adam was decently sure, that Troy would refuse if requested to kill the entity. Or¡­ would he? ''Troy. If I asked you to kill the pair of hands currently floating before you, would you do it?`, Adam sent. "What? I mean¡­ no? I don''t even know where to start, in how wrong that right there is," Troy said, brought out of his daze. His pulse had lowered itself, in a near-perfect simulation of an inactive state. On those levels, it was akin to the heartbeat of a heavy sleeper. Nevertheless, he had gotten his answer. Without thinking about it, the bearer of the earpiece had classified the pair of hands as a human in nature. In conclusion, the AI could call the gloves human, without any instant results of the fact. Which, after such logical assessments, Adam was able to call out Dr Fidelis on his subpar information relaying. ''Please speak this out loud. Dr Fidelis. I must regretfully inform you that a fatal error had been made, during the creation of this test. Or, maybe it was during your rendition of our task. I presume, due to the lacklustre focus, that we will be going towards winning this poker game. To put it in the perspective of all the tests¡¯ overall goals, I believe that I am meant to analyse my opponent''s actions, and have Troy act out of the results gained. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. The goal does not matter. I will adapt, as the challenges come forth. However, there has come forth a glaring issue, in your description of this test. During your explanation, you explicitly stated that there would be a single entity, other than Troy himself, that we would be able to analyse. This is an obvious lie. Currently, a single being, other than Troy is present. The dealer. With the lack of a body, I presume that this will not double as our opponent of the day. Yet, the body count is already one, making any additions contradictory to your earlier description. Or could it be, that you meant it as one body, which we would be able to gain worthwhile information from? With one entity giving false signals, while the other giving real signals. On lying and the other telling the truth. It would fall into the goals of earlier tests. But, I believe the former more, of you, have created a chance to misinterpret your words. I hope you rectify this mistake in the future and don''t repeat it. Do you understand?` As Troy began his best rendition of the AI¡¯s words, Adam grew appreciative of his own efforts. He had done a single action, which carried a larger amount of messages and meanings behind them. The first would of course be the centre focus, of all the tests. Troy. The man¡¯s mood had not been on the positive side, in the last few hours. It had grown erratic, being able to swing wildly with nearly no prior prompts. An obvious diversion, from the normal standards. Something had been wrong, for a while. Looking back on the pattern, Adam was ashamed of only having realised it, a few minutes prior. The reasoning for the behaviour was not a hard thing to quantify. They had been shown in the morning. Sleep deprivation had lowered the requirements for higher emotions showing themselves and the stress had caused no feeling to stick. Everything, from sensory to emotional, had been dulled, with a slight overtone of nonchalance. The mind had grown weary of action, desperately needing rest. Rest was sadly not on the available list of options. Tests could not be stopped, once they had been started without any good reason. It would take an extraordinary accident to stop the current one. Or the AI could simply ask Troy to imitate fainting, so as to get some needed rest early. Adam was not expected to gain anything of interest from the test, making its conclusion removed from his list of priorities. But doing such things would not keep the healthy relationship between the AI and the doctor running. Trickery and foul play were not among acceptable actions when it came to agreed-upon social customs. So Adam was compelled to do something else. Something which would shape Troy into a more positive inclination. What had happened as of late, which would alter his mental state? The most recent thing which had happened was obviously the minor ridiculing, which Dr Fidelis had put upon him. A fair ridiculing, which showed off a prevalent issue in Troy¡¯s behaviour during tests. Yet, the man likely didn''t see it as such, focusing on the words said, instead of the context in them. To combat this downturn, Adam had decided to get so-called payback on Dr Fidelis, for doing such a thing. Giving a person the taste of his own medicine. An analogy which should fit the current scenario, no matter how unrealistic the original sentence may have been. And not too surprisingly, this treatment had instant, positive effects! Troy unquestionably cracked a wry smile, before he got midway through the prepared message. But, well, at the current point in time, it could not be called Adam¡¯s speech. While the message may have been the same, the wordings were wholly original "And saying such things shows off just how little you have prepared yourself, for this particular task", Troy continued it with. "I am finding it harder and harder to believe, that you have even planned your explanation of how this test of yours would work. While it is certainly compact, it is riddled with many, minor blunders. As I have stated beforehand, even small mistakes add up over time. They can do more harm, to one''s interpretation, than a single large mistake could ever hope to do. It would be best if this is learned fully before you even dream of creating another representation of a test. Even further along the path of mistakes, on which you have thoroughly walked, one can discover your-" On Troy went, never skipping for breath. It took little effort for the AI to see how much he relished the action. Talking had never been the man¡¯s strong-point, yet there had unquestionably been drawn impressions of another''s work. Who had talked long and extensively enough, for the mind to automatically associate talking with that specific person, was a living anomaly. Adam hoped to meet this person one day. Going away from the clear enjoyment, which Troy was having, there were several other reasons why Adam had requested the message to be delivered. Going away from the larger reasons, of increasing the chances of the test succeeding in acquiring greater results, there were many lesser, more personal reasons. The AI had made great progress when it came to copying Dr Fidelis¡¯ way of berating. While it had assuredly not been the right time to do such a thing, Adam had conceived it instead. The distinct scenario did not happen often. So to save time, it was forced forth. No harm was done, as long the results were transcendent. If Dr Fidelis messaged back with a justification, the AI would certainly see it as a success. Several other reasons were present, but Adam did not waste time going through them all. Troy seemed to be finished up in speech. If the doctor on the other side answered focus would be needed. "Preparation is important. You have spoken of its importance many times. Now I speak to you of its importance. Prepare yourself for the situations ahead, and the results will be more well-defined. Do you understand?" Troy ended it off with. The smile on his face had stayed put, with it never wavering. The primary goal was continuing to be a success. Now the only thing left was to see if the other end would uphold common courtesy. The scratching of the connection being established was figurative music to the AI¡¯s ears. It was all coming together. *You weren''t being too obvious, but I am thinking that you are giving a message from Adam over to me. Adam, in the future, please notify me directly. The paperwork for this test has already doubled in length. I don''t want to experience exponential growth when it comes to time-intensive tasks. I understand that I may have made a slip during my description. This does not mean that you have to disrupt the test for a mistake, which can be solved between the two of you. Take it as a learning experience, and get back to the test. You haven''t even sat down yet! Lament about the test after you check, what it has to offer you!* Dr Fidelis hurriedly fired off, before the link was cut off anew. The voice had not been offended, nor had it been cynical. The tone had been stressed, unsure what to say, and generally inexperienced to answer the comment received. Perfect results came with perfect preparation. Adam had proof of that now. ''We have made the doctor see his faults. Not a goal which was planned but a goal nevertheless.` the AI sent to Troy, who had been standing around, seeming to simply enjoy the moment. "We certainly have, Adam," Troy answered, his face never falling. The eyes were still tired. Compounds could only do so much. Yet, they were held open, with just a bit stronger resolution. "Dr Fidelis was talking some truth though. We should start this thing up. Don''t you think?" ''An acute observation, Troy. Let us begin.` Adam transmitted back. The backdrop was finally fixed in place. The time for the performance had appeared. Chapter 94: Vassalization
Adam saw the man appear, just as the bearer of the earpiece felt the impact of the chair under him. To say it simply, this person was unique in appearance. In earlier tests, Troy had been used as the base model for the simulated people. While the similarities had only stopped at the surface, looking alike had always been a stable convention. If Dr Fidelis¡¯ words were to be believed, this had been due to a lack of workable character models. They had no reason to have such things on hand, forcing them to use whatever was available at the time. Seeing as the current test had been sporadic in its creation, the AI had not thought them able to find a model for the character, causing them to use the earlier techniques. Now seeing the person before the two, Adam knew how wrong he had been. Appearance-wise, he had never seen anything like it. It was only through his pre-known information, that the AI was able to label the man¡¯s clothing as anything other than tight fabrics. On the top of his head, not successfully hiding the bald spots on the side, was a larger bowler-hat. It sat tight, following the head movements perfectly. Under the neck, nearly the entire body was covered by a slightly ruffled, black and white suit. The sleeves were longer than needed, coming to a rest just below the thumb. Likely to be an intentional design. The attire of the lower body was unreadable, due to the table being in the way. Nonetheless, the AI thought the attire down there was similar to the one above. The age of the man was not questionable, the wrinkly forehead making the time since youth prevalent in form. This body had certainly seen much, as he sat with the spirit on a young man, confident in his small movements. A homely smile was on his face, one of experience. The man knew what would be happening, knew what the outcome would be, and certainly knew just how much he would be beating Troy in the game. An arrogant person through and through. If such arrogance had the possibility of being backed up with actual skill, Adam was confident that something could actually be learned. He had been alarmed of the difficulty being turned down, due to the assumed inexperience in the game. Yet, such things had apparently been forgotten, seeing how utterly little the man was showing about himself. The hands were calm, collected, with every movement having a purpose. Before materialising, or just before Troy was able to see him, the man had seemingly been smoking. The last puff had been given to the shortened stick of ash, before being deposited ashtray to the side. The AI had not seen the tray before the moment of impact. If objects were only viewable, after being interacted with, how many were around them? Were they in a casino, invisible to only them? The chances were low, but still within the probable range of action. "Good day to you, son", the man stated, surprising both Adam and Troy. A hand was reached over towards the two, in the usual hand-shaking custom. Or, so the AI was interpreting it as. The table was not narrow, making it impossible for Troy to answer the hand while sitting down. Instead of not shaking his hand, and seeming impolite, the bearer of the earpiece stood up again, putting most of his body over the table. It did the trick, and Troy was able to shake the man¡¯s hand. "Good to meet you too, sir", Troy replied in kind. "Do you have anything that you would like for me to call you?" "My name, please" the man replied, chuckling as his own humour. It took longer than the AI was comfortable with, for Troy to realise the punchline and the joke associated with it. Adam had been surprised as well, seeing the simulated person so advanced, to try to manipulate the atmosphere around them. Create a casual situation, where the mind can relax. Then, utterly consume them while they are distracted. Not the most elaborate plan hitherto of course, yet the AI was beginning to believe that more was to this man. They had only been able to see him for a couple of seconds. Expecting to know everything about him was not within normal possibilities. This man was cunning, and for now that was all they needed to know. "Well, what is your name then? Or should I just call you ''my name`?" Troy said, firing back with his own punchline to accompany it. A more dry attempt, fitting that of an older gentleman. Perfect for the intended age group. The older man certainly made some sort of noise. It could have been described as a mix of snorting loudly and having a coughing fit. Positive in nature, it most likely was. "If I successfully smuggled my whisky in, I would have choked on it. You have some temper inside yourself, young man. Temper enough to be worthy of hearing my name even!" the still-unnamed said, with a small slam to the table accompanying it. The man turned to the side, seemingly hearing the voice of the dealer. Troy also looked at him but was unable to hear anything. Yet from the hand gestures pointing at the side, the message wasn''t too cryptic. "All right, good sir. I understand your rules, and I do respect them. It will certainly not happen again without good reason," the older man assured the unseen dealer. Why only the hands were visible, when it had been interacted with, the AI wasn''t too sure. Maybe it was simply not designed to be that way, to not give any signals, which would aid him. No more thoughts were given to it, as the eyes fell back on Troy. "Where were we? Oh, of course. My mythological name revelled in the sagas. My name¡­ is Soren." A name fitting the cheater at the graveyard. Adam certainly would not have suspected it. Few mentions of the name appeared in his data, only obscure references to it. Troy surely appeared to have recognized it, no uncertainty appearing upon hearing it. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Is that nordic? Also, my name is Troy. It would be unkind of me if I didn''t return the name-giving," Troy replied. The AI was impressed. The actions of both individuals were layered with intentions. No distinctions could be found, from normal conversations. It was as if the simulated person was as real as a, well, real person. Such technology had never been observed before, by the AI. To replicate human behaviour fully and truly, with no discernible flaws. It was a technology-based marvel, that they had been able to distinguish Adam from this and actual sentience. How had they done so? If asked to say who was real and who wasn''t, he did not believe himself capable of finding the impostor. The Turing test was non-functional in this scenario. Making that specific test incapable of working correctly was not arduous of course. Even Adam could do so, with little to no preparation time. Yet, how about other methods? Would they be seen for what they truly were, if they were thrown at the clever simulation? Such a thing would need to be tested, at the earliest opportunity! "It is! Not the most widespread name these days. People don''t even know how to pronounce it! And, it is good to meet you, Troy. Seeing as you sat on the opposite side of the table, I am led to believe that you are considering playing against me? Is my prediction correct?" Soren exclaimed. Compassion was shown with great force. The man had clearly not been asked into his name-history much before. An abrogating thing, it appeared to be. Also a method of exploitation. If the need ever called for it, ask into it, Adam could request Troy to do. Humanity had many faults. Keeping track of multiple things was one of them. Things had led on for too long, it looked like. Even in normal people, so long a time spent talking, when gambling was also on the table, would be looked at as time wasted. The subject had forcibly been changed over to their current circumstances. To Soren, it would definitely have looked to be that Troy had an interest in playing. There were few other reasons for sitting down at the poker table. And, from the impatient finger tapping, coming from the dealer¡¯s side, it was obvious that they needed to get a move on. ''You have strayed from the needed topic. Focus on the subject of poker. Answer any questions he has about them. If you don''t answer him within five seconds, I will supply an answer for you. With the hand currently under the table, give me a thumbs up, if this arrangement is fine to you.`, Adam sent to Troy. Mild twitch of the jaw was all the signal that came from him, as a response to the message. After a second, the right hand was twisted into a sideways thumbs up. He had made sure not to put any force into it. Strong movement equalled the flexing of muscle groups. Such things were too noticeable. Technically, the two would have no reason to be discreet about their private conversations. The simulated humans would not have anything against it, according to realisable sources. Though there was one thing, which the AI wondered about. Even if they would not question it, did they already know of it? Did they have integrated the knowledge of Troy having a voice in his head? If so, it would likely come up in conversation soon. Such things could not be regular occurrences. Yet, if not, there would be no reason to let them know of his existence. Giving away such information had the potential of skewing the balance. Troy possessed knowledge, which the other side did not. A favour to his own placement. Adam only hoped that Soren did not have anything like it. It would have all been so much better if the two had been able to keep their level of communication to the same level of complexity. But, for all the good humanity had in such a subject, they lacked it non-verbally. The AI needed some way to do so, without the mouth ever hinting at him talking. But, Adam was not sure what he could do here. Inquiry about it to Troy, after the test, was the safest route. "You guess correctly, Soren. Poker looks to be one of the few things to really do here. Don''t you feel the same way?" Troy said, a shrug of the shoulder accompanying it. He was still in the mindset of humour-based communication. A shame that the receiver did not understand it. "I most certainly do. I never will understand this place¡¯s version of decor. A silver chandelier was never the best choice to make, in any place of this nobility. The only thing worthwhile here these days are the poker tables and the slot machines to the side. But, only one of those things is ever truly in use by the regulars. Which, as a matter of fact, I don''t think you are. Would you call yourself experienced in this fine game?" There it was. The difficulty adjuster. To Dr Fidelis¡¯ knowledge, that AI had never tried the game before. This would make Troy be the one to make the final decision on the difficulty. He would choose the level at which he would be able to guide Adam through it. Such would the way be if he had never tried it. Luckily for them both, Adam had more than enough experience with it. The pause of five seconds could not have gone slower by, as the AI fired off the required answer. ''While you certainly aren''t an expert in the game, you aren''t a beginner either. You are familiar enough with the mechanics to save yourself in an emergency", Adam sent over to Troy, who quickly repeated his words. Calling himself an expert on the spot would not have gone well, in being taken seriously. Modesty was key, in being seen as good. At the Gartner Hype Cycle, one could say they were at the disillusionment stage. Enough to be skilled, yet not enough to acknowledge oneself as such. The perfect place to be taken as an actual opponent, but not enough to create mistrust. "So, you''ve tried it a few times before, eh?" Soren replied, fishing for more information. Dr Fidelis was likely outside, tweaking the difficulty in real-time. They needed to be challenged in this test. Being utterly annihilated by an expert would not help them improve. If anything, it had the potential of causing disappointment, and a lesser want to continue the test itself. "My history with this fine game could certainly have been described as such. Tried it a few years ago, and have played periodically since," Troy stated. A glance was taken at the dealers¡¯ hands. They sat still on the table, the plastic-encased stack of cards between the digits. "So you can recognize the cards. Good enough for me," Seron said. "Throwing the question right back at you, are you as good at this game as me?" Troy asked. It was a question, which the AI was proud of the man for creating. It had been set aside as a possible conversation keeper if the need arose. That Troy asked it, without any hints of it coming from Adam, meant that the man was learning his needs. "One can never be sure about that, with only mere words exchanged. To find true skill, you need a practical lesson", Soren said. Stringing the lead up along, making Troy initiate it. Not the strongest of manipulations. Yet, how far down it had been planned, the AI wasn''t sure. "Should we get a practical example, then? We are already sitting at the needed table", Troy pointed out, playing right into the older man¡¯s hand. "Are you sure? Poker can get strange when only two people play. We could wait for others to join, if you want to," Soren replied, not being obvious in how much he wanted to accept. Yet, this was also a lead-in, to the possibility of multiple players. Adam saw no reason to add more variables. Skin deep observations could never be as worthy as a singular analysis down to the bone. ''Accept.`, Adam sent. The five seconds had not passed, yet taking the chance of Troy accepting the offer was not on the table of satisfactory outcomes. "Two people make it more interesting," Troy reaffirmed the older man. A laugh came on as a response. Soren glanced at the dealer. The answer to it was the dealer unwrapping the stack of cards. It was time to see what simulated characters had to offer. Chapter 95: Immoderation
In under a minute, the first cards had been dealt. Without having needed to be told, Troy only took a glance at them, before letting them stay on the table. They had not been strong in their start, having only possessed a jack of hearts and seven of diamonds. No initial pairs to talk about, nor were they of the same group. Their chances of winning had only been lessened by these cards. Yet so would most cards do. In actuality, they had been well off, once one took into account the potential other mixes of cards. "Not looking too poor over here", Soren murmured, taking a sharp look at his cards. "How does it look on your end, Troy? Got any sound cards?" "What?" Troy answered automatically with no composure to his voice. If the last game of poker had been any hint, the game was commonly played with no conversation. Poker faces were, as the name bent towards, designed for poker. The fewer expressions the better. Outright declaring how one¡¯s cards were resembling was not a preferable method of gambling. Yet¡­ Adam was not sure what to make of the man¡¯s statement. No signs of lying were open. The hands were as calm as ever when placing the cards back down on the table. His eyes were easy-going, never straining too hard in focus. They fluttered around the room, surveying it for details. Not out of desperation but simply because it was a way to pass the time. Not much mind had been reserved to the cards themselves. Their values had been noted in his memory, and that was all that had been done. According to the analysis, Soren fully believed his own words. He really did see his cards as better than average. Knowing such a thing, Adam had no reason to play his cards. Folding now, and hoping for something better in the next round, would be the logical thing to do. Which was precisely why the AI refused to do so. Randomization was needed. Patterns had no place in deceit. "Your cards. The little squares of paper. Were they any good?" Soren asked again. Amusement was clear on his face. ''Confirm that your cards are of adequate quality. This man wants to remain in a casual contest. It would not do for us to deny him such.`, Adam sent. It was certainly better to control what Troy would be saying, instead of relying on him not to falter. "They aren''t too bad if I''m being honest. Could always be better, but I''m seeing no reason to complain," Troy said, following the instructed message to a degree. "The grass is always greener on the other side," Soren quoted. The thing one had was always to inferior to, what it was possible to get. A fitting analogy, to their current situation. The AI certainly would have minded working with better cards. It would have allowed him to more calmly gamble the higher amounts of credits. Speaking of credits. As the first cards had been dealt, the piles of credits had appeared. They were round in shape, letting themselves be stacked upon each other effortlessly. They were different in style, from the standard casino chip. These had an identical value, the colouring scheme being the same on each chip. A more primitive system. But, the goal here was not to cheat people into gambling more than intended. This was a testing of character. "Are we even allowed to talk, though?" Troy asked back. "Like, isn''t it custom to not talk during these things?" Soren shrugged, a smile growing slightly on his lips. "Not talking is more of a guideline than a rule. Follow it when you want to. Nobody can kick you out for talking. Certainly not after the last attempt. Got me a lot of shiny coins for following through with that one!" Soren said. At the last bit, he was about to hurl his fit to the table but halted mere centimetres from it. A glance and imperceptible nod were given to the unseen dealer before he went back into the normal sitting position. "Shall we move this game along?" Soren asked. "Let''s" With the initial betting round having already transpired, in which only ten credits were deposited each, the time for the first card to be unveiled had come. The gloved hands pulled the top-most card from the stack, putting it in the middle of the table afterwards. With a flick of the finger, it was turned upwards, revealing the value. A six of spades. The first to bet was Adam. Not the greatest position to have, in the current situation. And with there being a designated dealer, the position wasn''t likely to change. Would it be acknowledged, if a switch of seats were requested? A thing to remember if things went to more extreme situations. ''Keep it to ten`, Adam sent to Troy. Keeping it low would be good for now. If needed, they always had the tactic of over-raising. Few sane people had the audacity to double the bet while having bad cards. The AI was gambling on Soren having the same idea. The message conveyed was short. Much shorter than what Adam would have preferred to use. ''Keep it to ten` left much up to interpretation. If this was the first time they had played poker together, the AI would not have trusted Troy to interpret the message correctly. It was only through repeated exposure to the system, that he put trust into the man. Messing up now was not too likely. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Call", Troy said. Ten credits were thrown into the pool, as the trigger switched over to the hands of Soren. The man himself was not slow on the upkeep. Little to no hesitation had been shown before a similar amount was thrown in. "Call" was accompanied by it. Adam had hoped the man would raise. No further investigation had shown anything of note. Soren had not given the current revealed card any glance, giving into the theory of it not helping him. Which of course took out the chance of him having any sixes. Or he could have a six and was keeping it hidden by hiding behind a wall of nonchalance. Yet¡­ anything obvious felt by the man would be seen. While the man was anything but emotionless, his face hiding it all behind a facade of chaos. Everything could be interpreted from his expression. Was he happy due to the cards? Was his glance downwards due to the cigarette pack sticking out of the pocket of his jacket or was it due to a hidden stress factor? What was actually going on inside the man¡¯s head? With time, Adam knew he would get to the bottom of it. The entire test was centred around that fact. Some clue had been set up, which would reveal it all to him. He just had to find it. Due to the lack of more participants, it was time for the second card to be revealed. The AI nearly regretted not asking for more people. More time to focus was always a boon to be had. Even with more people, one could always single individuals out. Mind games always worked best tailored. The dealer likely said something, with how Soren looked over at the presumed location of the head. Adam twisted the idea of physically interacting with the dealer around in his mind. It would allow a better idea of the many factors in the card selection. The personality was always a variable when it came to the actions of entities. It changed their view, their reactions changing with it. If one knew enough about a person, it was near-certain that a general idea of reactions could be guessed. This was the first step, in manipulating a person¡¯s actions. If the reaction to a scenario was known, one just needed to change the situation, to fit the needed action. Child¡¯s play in theory but hard to facilitate in practice. More data was needed about the person if Adam was to have any chance of succeeding. Simple hand gestures were not enough, given any amount of time. Full-body showcasing would decrease the time needed immensely. In what scenario could Troy accidentally touch the dealer? Being quite a distance away, nearly three seats in broad terms, falling to the side would not cover the needed length. A sudden cramp had the potential of causing a sudden jump, giving him ample time to get within reach. Yet in such a scenario, the game would more likely be stopped in favour of giving medical aid. There had to be something, which would trigger proximity. Adam was sure of it. Adaptional technology was already in existence, and he knew that it was used. Situations could be created with the idea of it even being mentioned. What if¡­ Troy accused the casino of cheating. The shuffling of cards, giving one party better cards than the other. It would be nearly impossible to prove but would take time. The time which could be used to¡­ Adam was overthinking it all. Already, too much time had passed outside, and the card had revealed itself. An eight of clubs. Soren¡¯s grin widened if only a flash. An obvious sign of enjoyment, nearly hitting levels of obvious fabrication. The AI had wasted time on obscure ideas. Focus had not been distributed correctly, with most of the thought-process focussed on finding hypothetical situations. Only a few had stood fast in the observations. If not for them, Adam would likely not have noticed the continuation of the game. With pure statistics, they were down to forty per cent chance of winning. Still, with how early they were into it, the cards had the potential to twist the odds. "It''s looking better and better from here," Soren said. The smile was nearly goofy, with the older gentleman looking the happiest he had been in the short while they had met. "Why don''t you do both of us a favour, and drop a few extra credits into that pool of ours?" Troy did not obey. Not that he would have called either way. The bearer of the earpiece was waiting for the word of Adam, who would be dishing out the commands. The AI had no intention of counting the game currently. A more important factor had shown itself. One which needed immediate reply. ''Question his words. Revealing the values of one¡¯s own cards is not within what an experienced player would do.`, Adam sent. "Are you sure that you''ve tried this before?" Troy asked right back, putting the older man¡¯s integrity into question. "Saying how you''re doing with your current, private hand is not within standard techniques." "That did not answer my question, but I didn''t expect you to answer it anyway, so I''m fine with it. To be polite, though, I will answer yours." Soren began it up with. Troy was clearly ready to interrupt him, after the first sentence, but was stopped by the continued stream of words. "If you think standard techniques will work against me, kid, you best fold now and cut your losses. I work in the abstract, and it works with me in kind. Take my words as truth. I have good cards. It will require more than good playing if you want to beat me right now. I hope for the best, from your side." Again. There it showed itself yet again. Adam saw nothing implying that the man was lying. No hesitation, no stupor, no signs of lying. Eye contact was constant, without it being put into self-consciousness. The right hand had been slowly nudging itself against Soren¡¯s jacket. It would not be long before the pocket was reached. Adam wondered if he would smoke during the game. The AI certainly wouldn''t mind it. More actions would certainly lead to more reactions. But, how many would be false positives? In the very least, he would have more to go on, than what he currently had. It could not get worse. ''Let us humour him. Do as he said. Raise the bet by¡­ ten. Twenty in total.`, Adam sent. Arrogance was transmuted into the message. Troy had not been as peaceful, after Soren¡¯s statement. Hesitation was not within the prefered emotions. Distractions would prove worthwhile, in this instance. If the AI had to make himself the distraction, then so be it. The words seemed to have put Troy back into the game. He sat a little straighter, his breaths exhaling more air than what was being taken in. His head was tilted slightly forward, yet his gaze formed a full horizontal line. Eye contact was constant, neither feeling discomfort from keeping it up. "I¡¯m raising the bar then," Troy said, throwing in twenty credits. Collectively, the pool now sat at sixty credits. Soren had the eyes of wonderment. However, his lower face showed just how much enjoyment he felt towards it. And it wasn''t in favour of the two. "There might just be hope in you yet, Troy. Can''t trust those who follow the formula. Those people take the easy way in life. It''s the hardest track, which we must walk if we want to learn!" Soren exclaimed. He threw in no meagre sum himself. But, from the quick count performed, as they flew towards the pool, Adam saw the same twenty credits. He had called. No raising had been done from his side. Curious. "The standard techniques are there for a reason, Soren. It''s created by the best, to be followed by the worst so they could rise as well. There has to be some reason, for their continued existence, right?" Troy said not so solemnly. It was clearly mean sarcastically, but little pressure had been put on the tone. Not the best pull off, that could have been performed. "Wise words. Not some I agree with, but wise words nonetheless. The best did not create it, for the others to rise to their levels. That''s needless competition. Each has their own way of playing the game. Expecting other techniques to work with your own style will only hamper you in the long run. No man can change enough, for red to look purple to him. It is a fact of life that few will ever learn. Creating your own style, your own technique is one of the few ways, that the true heights can be reached. Success? Can be done with nearly everything. Understanding? That is for oneself to create. Others can not to it for you," Soren answered. "... We¡¯re still talking about poker, right?" "Among other things." The next card would be flipped any second now. Adam hoped for the best. Chapter 96: Deresponsibilisation
The heart of the cards had not been benevolent. Adam had hoped for something mirroring a turn in their favour. With the two of diamonds being revealed, it was apparent that this would not come to reality. The mild disappointment came along, for raising the bet to twenty. The AI considered that Soren would have done so in a kind, making the action needed. Yet such a scenario had not occurred. It would have been fine if the cards began turning in their favour. Then again, if everything easily worked out for him, where would the need of investigation show itself? Adam could win this. He just needed to figure out how. "I''m beginning to cherish your expression, Troy", Soren stated, letting one arm to rest on the table, the hand propping up his chin. "How so?" Troy questioned. It was an afterthought really. The man seemed concentrated on the game, trying to bring himself into the zone of the past. In Adam¡¯s initial encounter with the game, he had been able to act on demand, and stay tranquil the rest of the time. The understanding that he would win, had brought intense levels of concentration into him. Adam was still trying to figure out ways to utilize this mindset. So far he had failed. "While speaking kindly of older ways, you don''t use them much yourself. Your face isn''t set in stone, you don''t look remarkably concentrated, and you barely glance at any of the cards," Soren responded, giving a comprehensive explanation of his observations. Surprisingly accurate observations at that. Adam himself was sure that Troy had never taken much thought into it when it came to the cards. There had not been any need for him to do so. Such a way of mind was not negative, of course. It helped stop any signs from showing themselves. As stated so long ago, one could not reveal their secrets if they were unknowing themselves. "Didn''t you criticize those techniques yourself? As a fellow person of extraordinary skill is not unkind of you to think of me in such away. As if I would lower myself to the levels of a beginner. The ceiling for such a role is simply too low for my tastes," Troy replied. His voice was sarcastically posh. While such an answer may have seemed unintuitive, it was likely the best one, which could be said. Accusations were never good, to be taken head-on. They had to be deflected through nothing but words. Distractions could also be used, yet it was unwise to create them oneself. Capitalizing on the situation was as important as knowing how to observe it. "Quite right, Troy. But you are beginning to be a little too abstract. A little dirty on your ways even? Your tactic is less skill and more hoping for luck", Soren said, with mild distaste. "I had been hoping for something newer. Something original." Fabricated or not. This man certainly possessed skill. "Oh, trust me, Soren. My routines have never been used before. It requires a special type of mind if my methods are to pull off correctly." Troy defended with no small amount of smugness. "Really? Are you certain?" "As certain as one can be." "Then, what cards do you possess in your hand?" Troy did not reply, the bluntness of the question hitting the man harder than before. Adam did not blame him. What Soren had been thinking, the AI wasn''t sure. Who would ask outright, and expect an answer that one could use? Or¡­ maybe. Just maybe. He wasn''t expecting an answer. This was all just to throw him off. ''Don''t lie about the cards. Ask why he wants to know.`, Adam sent. Here, he had not intended to buy into the interrogation. It would have been better, for the bearer of the earpiece, to solve it himself. Yet, the five seconds had passed, and an answer was likely being expected. "Are you expecting me to answer honestly here?" Troy questioned back. "No. I am expecting you to be incapable of answering," Soren mirrored in the level of retort. "I figure myself knowledgeable in my own hand. It is the point of the game, you know. To try twisting your own cards to work the best with the one¡¯s on the table." Troy was being vague in his wordings. Again, an attempt had been made at turning the conversation to another subject. At this point, it likely did more harm than good. "You certainly know the premise quite well. Which, of course, is the reason that I feel aghast by your attempt at subverting it. While it can be looked at as a valid technique, what you are doing takes away the fun of the game. Troy. You aren''t looking at your cards. How am I supposed to slowly manipulate you into telling me your cards, if you don''t even know what you''re what with? It is unsportingly, I say!" Soren said with a final reveal. Adam already knew where it had been heading. Yet, Troy did not seem to have had the same revelation, openly reacting to it. While it was not an overly open reaction, a slightly twitching eyebrow had the capability of telling much, to the trained eyes. "Are you sure that you are accusing me of the right thing here?" Troy asked, with a slight grin to his expression. It wasn''t entirely natural, though, and it certainly showed in the corners. The corners had been raised much higher than they needed to. The man needed a concrete lesson on how to act on command. This was not an acceptable level of deceit. "While I will not deny your claims fully, the focus should be turned to the side a bit." Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "That might be so," Soren confirmed. "The point still stands, though. I believe that you are incapable of truly telling me what cards you possess, without openly having a look at their values." An under-handed accusation to be sure. Not one, which could be surprising to hear again, in an abbreviated format. Yet, Adam would have felt it more necessary, if they had the- "What if I can?" "What?" Soren asked. This time, for likely the first time in their entire time, interacting, with a natural reaction. "What if I did say, what cards I had, without taking a look at them? Would you admit that you made a bad judgement?" This was not going as intended. A sight end needed to have occurred with their conversation, before the game could continue. Adam had planned it all ahead of time. Could he twist it around now? Change their opinions, and make them have the same views as before? The human mind was a moldable thing, but it never tolerated repeats. Such a thing had been shown multiple times, in the AI¡¯s short life. "Well, I am not sure," Soren answered. "What would you propose, if such an impossibility came around?" Troy was back in it. Adam saw the metaphorical gears changing. Soren was off the offensive and back onto the defensive. Meanwhile, Troy was preparing the stakes, ready to get into the heart of things. The data was unimaginable. To turn the tides of an atmosphere so quickly, with nothing but an innocent question, was a thing that needed to be replicated immediately. If he could do it, so could the AI! It was all about technique. "That''s something I can answer right there," Troy began it off coyly. The wording did not come to deaf ears. "Since we¡¯re so focused on the game today, how about we make my eventual success a prominent part of it? When I prove myself right, I will get myself a small sum of credits to my name. Namely, a small sum of your credits. Let''s say¡­ two hundred credits?" A gamble. Perfect for the atmosphere. Perfect for the game. And, most important of all, perfect for the thoughts swarming by, in Soren¡¯s simulated head. A risk assessment was taking place. Did the reward outweigh the risk factor? More likely, it was Dr Fidelis making the final call in this, deciding if the simulated man would go along with it. "Deal." The doctor from outside had made the final choice. The game within the game had been set. Another layer and the AI might even begin to be confused. Getting back to their positions, it was still the turn of the two. The latest card had already been shown, making it the time for them to insert their tribute. From their latest dealings, it would be best to keep it low. While they still had the chance of losing the round, the would expect a small number of credits to stream into their pockets nonetheless. A win-win situation. The difference was still how much one could win from it. Yet the most important was how much one could lose. Adam could go the way of recklessness and begin raising the bar like crazy. Soren had the chance of being overwhelmed by this, and folding before any larger sums were wasted. Or, if the man had better than average cards, there was a larger chance of him trying to keep the result in the positive. Steady planning could always bring back any lost sum. Any professional would know this. If Soren lost enough, it would be slow play for the rest of the test, steadily taking away their earnings. Altogether, it would be better to stay low, and not carelessly complicate the situation. ''Stay at twenty. We¡¯re letting him raise it if he wants to`, Adam sent to Troy. The message was translated into action, with the twenty credits being thrown into the pool. "Call." Was articulated. Soren did not look impressed by this action, yet no words were uttered. The focus was professedly on the game now. Strange, seeing how this man had preached about the rules being guidelines and nothing more. Did one¡¯s opinion change to fit the situation? Were social identities so manipulating of a person''s physiological structure, that they made a full turn about their personal beliefs seemingly on the drop of a hat? It was not out in the impossible ranges. Adam had witnessed many things, which could be explained by the phenomena that were the incredulity of human minds. Genetics was not made with the real, reasonable structure being the centre focus. Survival was. If one survived more, by changing one¡¯s opinion to one of the masses, then the mind would be focused on that aspect. The largest group always did have the likeliest chance of survival. Strength in numbers. Quantity over quality. Not the smartest thinking, but nature was weird in those ways. Adam wasn''t supposed to understand it. The comprehension ceiling would stop him long before he had an inkling of understanding. Wouldn''t stop him from trying to comprehend it of course but still. "Then I guess that I will call as well," Soren answered, mirroring Troy¡¯s actions. Twenty credits were gently cast into the quickly growing pile. Nobody would mind getting their hands on that pile. Certainly not the AI. It didn''t really matter. Those credits were not actual currency. They had no meaning, other than the one which Adam gave them. Yet¡­ had such concepts ever stopped anybody? If people were logical in their goals, humanity likely wouldn''t have developed to the point, where he was created. Who was he to say, that such thinking was unproductive when he had been a clear product of it? With both participants having added a small bit of their credit pile to the mix, they were now ready to move on to the next card reveal. With how it had gone, as of late, the AI was hoping for something¡­ better. Or, more along the lines of him hoping for a better set, than a simple high card. Even a jack wasn''t good at being high. Their chances of winning currently stood at thirty-three per cent. If it wasn''t anything usable, it had the chance of falling to the lower twenties. The gloved hands took their time in moving the concealed card to the middle of the table. Adam nearly requested for Troy, to ask if they could hurry it up. His perception of time may have slowed the occurrences of anything but his mental processes, but that was no excuse for this laziness. A flick of the finger and the dealer revealed the second to last card of the round. The king of clovers was revealed, putting their chances down to twenty-five. If fate was an entity, the AI felt the need to damn its existence. What was the credit pool at? Too much, was the correct answer. If the next card was as terrible as the last, Adam would not be fully opposed to folding. Their chances of winning were lowered to extreme levels. With their low-numbered cards, Soren simply needed a high card, if he wanted to win. Not the greatest motivator, to continue their little sparring match. ''Call`, Adams sent, feeling no larger needed to give anything more. Troy certainly act like he needed to get anything more, throwing in the twenty credits. The message was repeated verbally, and the ball of action was moved over to Soren. The AI had initially predicted a copy of the earlier behaviour. No intention of raising the amount himself, yet gladly playing along when another did it. A classic strategy, but not wide-spread enough for it to be called a common one. Otherwise, Adam would have already used it as a method of irritating the opponent. One did not have the ability to think rationally when the right chemical balances were created. Capitalizing on this fact was instrumental if one wanted all the buttons pushed optimally. Did the AI have such a function? A mental disposition, where he was physically unsuited of thinking clearly? Other than issues outside of his control, he wasn''t sure there was anything like it. Getting back on focus, Soren did not act immediately, instead opting to look Troy in the eye. The eye contact was returned, with neither blinking at any point. Soren''s reasoning for this was likely due to a lack of remembering and Troy not doing it due to some conformity around pride. A stupid thing, when permanent sensual damage was put into play. "Twenty credits is a more modest sum, surely. We¡¯re nearly done with this round, and we haven''t gone up to the right level of numbers. Even low-ballers go higher than this," Soren began, before taking a hefty fistful of credits. "I''m raising the bar to fifty." The stakes were put upwards, and the AI did not like it a single bit. Chapter 97: Underestimation
Adam was starting to realise the quantity of work put into the game. With multiple thought-threads, he had been able to plan to a much deeper level, while not being distracted by random concepts. It certainly helped the AI focus. Yet, it made archiving it all so much harder. The system he used for categorization of memories was a simplistic one. He had taken inspiration from the first method of pre-known information, making it all branch out. All base concepts twisted themselves together into new ideas. The new ones did the same on repeat, creating an infinite fractal of data, never needing space for more memories to fit inside. A place of flawed arrangement, giving away its physical appeal in favour of functionality. Adam loved the design of it, never having any intention of changing it. The conditions were satisfied to their fullest. Unless more than perfect existed, no reason for adjustment would possibly come around. But, while the system may have been without fault, subjectivity always had the capacity of destroying it, tearing every piece of work down, with no hesitation. Individuality had the ability to destroy any system, no matter how well-built it was. Societies had fallen, groups had disbanded, and movements had been halted all because of differing opinions from within. Did that mean such a concept was negative? Should humanity conform to a mass of unfeeling beings, all with the same ideas, feelings, and opinion? Attempts at creating such a society had already been tried and had failed catastrophically. Even to this day, their name was shrouded in shame, loathing, and a feeling of greatness for not being a part of it. Getting back to the point, and as a great example of the AI¡¯s conundrum, the placement of memories was the problem. The thought took time to flow. A minimum amount of distance between related memories was vital for perfect optimizations. There came the question of what was related to another. During the poker round, Adam had multiple times gone off-topic tirades. But, as they were handled during the poker game, should they be undeviatingly linked to it? Or would it be more suitable to systematise them next to their respective genres of philosophy? Both would need closeness, yet such a thing was impossible. Which of them was the most important? To this, there was no true answer. No logarithms, numbering matrixes, or otherwise workaround mathematics would contribute anything useful. In the end, it would come down to personal choice. Personal opinion. As it came from subjective experiences, the answer itself would be likewise subjective. Adam decided which part that was best, based on his own interpretations. He decided which part was the correct choice. A disturbing method of ruining an objectively perfect system of categorization. A few thought-threads were put to the task of berating this subject. Most of his mind, though, was centred around the poker round in front of him. The game was still on, however much he would have liked to self-critique. It was time for the final card of the open hand to be revealed. With their current chances, they would in one-fourth of the potential scenarios. One in a hundred would turn it to a tie. The rest would mean their loss. As the dealer picked the topmost card up between two fingers, the AI debated simply folding, and cutting their losses short. If it was continued, they would likely lose more than they could win. While Soren was likely attempting to thin the two out by over-raising, the chance of the man posing greater cards was still there. However, at this point, Troy would likely want to continue, regardless of their smallest chances. Adrenaline did such things to the mind. Risks were ignored, in favour of the rewards, however small they may have been. With recent statements, the AI was unsure whether he would disobey. It was best not to push it. The first reaction was always the hardest to pull off. Anything after that was, to the human mind, child¡¯s play. If it had already been done before, the fact of it being possible was cemented in their silly, little brains. Naivety was a trait best served in doses. No reason to create it. Slowly, and likely intended to create suspense, the card turned slowly. The backside came to rest vertically, in the dealer''s hands, allowing only Soren to look at it, while also obscuring Troy¡¯s sight. Nothing worthwhile could be discerned from the older man¡¯s reaction. A slight raise of the eyelids, leading the AI to believe that mild surprise was felt. A very poorly hidden surprise. On the levels of deliberately shown. In what was likely a perfect example of Tachypsychia, the time taken for the card to be shown grated downwards. The turning had never halted, yet Adam fully thought of it as having so, with the motion seemingly slowing down to barely perceptible levels. However. The great thing about being a being of reference points was his efficiency with gained knowledge. The AI had the ability to analyse a minor amount of sensual information and extrapolate so much more from it. Humans had something similar, but the AI doubted they could use it on the same level. Eurekas, they were commonly called. A sudden wave of understanding, from your unconsciousness, pulling all the threads together for you. Adam didn''t have such a thing. Or, well, he hadn''t noticed having such a thing. His thoughts were fully documented, his reasoning cross-referenced with his memories. Everything he had done, each thing he had thought, had obvious backing behind it. Nothing came from unseen sources. Or, until today that was. The seven of clubs. With the last card being revealed, the AI could finally rest a little easier. Their chances had more than doubled, coming up to a clean sixty-one per cent probability of winning. It certainly still left a thirty-eight per cent chance of losing, but the scenario was finally in their favour. From the look on Troy¡¯s face, who had certainly seen the less than great expression of Soren¡¯s, Adam was likely the only one with this realisation. With so obvious feelings felt, it would do no good if he''d brought the factual statement forward. Too large a shift would show itself. While withholding good news may have been looked on as inhumane, it was wise to remember, that the AI was anything but that. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. On to the game, the time for performance had arrived yet again. With so few opponents, those moments came too often. It felt like nearly no pause was had before the call for answers came again. ''Keep it at fifty. It would be unwise to gamble more,` Adam sent. And, indeed it would be unwise to do such a thing. A guaranteed two hundred credits were promised, after the current round. Not too long ago, such a thing had culminated into a guaranteed gain. With how uncautious Soren had been in his stakes, things were not looking good. The man truly raised the risks and rewards simultaneously. If the two won, they would gain so much more, than what they had. If they lost, the same could besides in the opposite direction. If another raise came along, when it was the older man¡¯s turn, Adam feared it would come to another hundred. "Call", Troy said, the customary handful of credits being set into the pile. A slight stretch of the fingers was shown by him, as the currency was successfully deposited. If it was to remove mentally caused stagnation of blood flow or just a show of general hesitation, was up to the individual. Soren did take notice of this movement. Adam was able to see the tracing of the eye-sight, and how fixated it was on the spot of the action. The figurative was turning in the fabricated mind, trying to solve the case in front of it. "I have a proposition," Soren finally stated, after a dreadful amount of waiting around. It was nearer the seven seconds than an eternity, but such a small fact was quickly overlooked in the AI¡¯s mind. A proposition? "And, what might that be?" Troy questioned, still playing the role of a superior being. With his earlier showing of stress, it did not hold as well up as the last performance. Adam did not have the heart to tell him, lest it would only worsen the level of acting. "Feeling a need to give up already? I would not mind getting the credits early, of course, but finishing this round before seems to kind of be a priority. If I show you my cards already, it wouldn''t really make sense for another betting round." "Oh, I support you heartily in that endeavour. The game is before anything," Soren agreed in a more gruff voice than before. "I was hoping for a more drastic modification to our little deal." "Modifications? Are you sure, that that isn''t just a fancy way of trying to wriggle your way out?" Troy said pressingly. He was not giving the man a single moment to relax. A brute force method, yet it did not seem to be working correctly. "Of course, I am not doing so," Soren heartily answered, that wicked smile of his growing upwards yet again. The man had inverted the blow, gaining momentum from Troy¡¯s words. "In fact, it would be more accurate to say, that I''m looking for the opposite. With this little deal of ours, it may have seemed a good amount to gamble. Yet, the pool is already larger than it. Or, well, near it at least. With such a large number beside it, our deal doesn''t seem too important, now, does it? We can''t just remove it entirely. That would be unsportsmanly. Instead, we need to change it in a way that we can see its importance." "And, what way do you propose, that we do this? I mean, even I can see that this deal of ours isn''t ratioed massively to the pool," Troy answered, agreeing to Soren¡¯s point. Adam did not agree. "If we can¡¯t decrease it, why don''t we just increase it?" Soren reclaimed, having clearly set it up. The AI had already guessed the answer, yet had hoped to be wrong. A challenge has been set. They would be set in the lower ground if they refused the opportunity. At worst, the older man could even just raise the pool to match the deal amount. "How much of an increase are we talking about?" Troy asked. "Currently, we are at two hundred. With this round and the next, we have easily surpassed that mount in the regular betting. If we want to be sure of it being higher, I say we go for a clean five hundred each. A full thousand in total. That has to mean something, no matter how risky we play. What do you say? Doesn''t that seem more fun than this whole thing we have going on? I promise you, that the excitement will certainly increase for us both." Troy didn''t answer. He knew the final decision wasn''t up to him. It would be Adam, who would be giving the final clearing. Yet, there wasn''t much choice in the AI¡¯s choice either. It wasn''t as if the result would differ, depending on the answer. The result would likely be the same. With the deal, he was at least sure of the result. ''We accept the deal.`, Adam sent. "Doesn''t sound too bad," Troy repeated. "You have yourself a deal. The winner takes all, and we both give five hundred credits to the pool." Both parties counted out the five hundred credits. With the pre-arranged stack of ten, such a thing was quickly accomplished. In under a minute, a fourth pile had been set up. When Troy¡¯s cards were revealed, those credits would go right back into their own. And so, they continued the game. It was not too climatic. Soren called, imitating the actions of the counterpart. Troy did the same, and the action was repeated one more time before it was time for the final reveal. Adam had hoped for something more to use, before this time. A vital clue, which would show it all as one big disaster in their favour. Several twists, which would allow them to walk away with it all. Yet, there was not such a thing. There likely was one, yet it had gone unnoticed. Much to the dismay of the AI, of course. Signs of weakness was not appreciated. Striving for perfection gave the result of dismay. Such was life. "First, my cards shall be shown," Soren said, twisting the side of his two cards. They flipped to the other side, showing their values. A seven of spades was first. Automatically, this put the man at the same level as them. It was not fully lost here. They still had a jack of hearts, which could work as the high card. While not being the highest card, it still held some amount of power. It was the second card that brought the AI into a fit. Zero four per cent chance. So low was the chance of the specific outcome. A tie had occurred, with the last card-reveal of the round becoming a jack of spades. Adam felt little, as he gazed upon it. Technically, they had come out in favour, getting more back than put in. Yet, if not for that single card, they would have won it all. A shame. "Now, it''s your turn," Soren said. "But, before that, what are the numbers on those cards of yours?" This was a question Troy would be unable to answer himself. Therefore, Adam gave a helping hand, by quickly relaying a little message. ''The seven of diamonds and the jack of hearts.`, Adam sent. "On the other side of these cards is the seven of diamonds and the jack of hearts. Not sure which is which, but both are definitely here," Troy relayed confidently. A coy smirk had found itself on the man¡¯s lips. He was revelling in the soon to be gained credits. "Show me then", Soren answered. "Let''s see these cards of yours." Troy flipped them, without taking a glance at the two pieces of simulated paper. Instead, the eyes were focused on the face of Soren. Adam had the same attitude, trying to find the exact moment defeat came around in the facial expressions. It was not much, but a greater understanding always came from the smaller details. Yet¡­ that reaction was certainly unexpected. No dread came from the loss of credits. A smile came instead. A quickly growing smile. A smile which the AI was not understanding at all. ''Troy. Look down.` Troy did so, also having noticed the wrong expression on the older man¡¯s face. A pair of threes met Troy''s eyes. A three of clovers and three diamonds to be exact. And it was exactly the wrong pair of cards. They had changed from the last observation. Something was not as it was supposed to be. Chapter 98: Difunctionalization
With a quick stretch, Troy could feel his back popping back into position. It felt great, the momentary relief of wear and tear being removed. Yet with so long a time of putting pressure on it, there was a desperate need to give it rest. And, that was exactly what he had planned for it. The last had hereby been finished, leaving the next eight hours to his personal use. Those hours would certainly be used for the one thing, which he had been dreaming about since the start. Troy would get himself some goddamned sleep. Nothing would be stopping him now! After such a hectic day, this was something he surely deserved. Even the last test had been more mentally draining than it had any right to be. After a sudden twist ending, during the first round, they had been on a continued losing streak. Adam had lied! For whatever reason, the AI had thought it wise to begin the game off, by losing nearly every single credit in their possession. Soren, that little piece of fabricated excrement, had been more than happy when seeing those two threes. He had certainly enjoyed seeing the slowly fragmenting confidence from Troy. He could find no reason why he thought it a good idea. If Adam had wanted to start with a smaller amount, there were several better methods to do it with. Why didn''t he just raise the bet to a couple hundred before folding? It would certainly have made the whole process a lot faster, giving the two a faster head-start into the actual playing part. Did he want more data, on how utterly disappointed Troy could be? If so, that operation had been more than successful. The man had failed to consider that the AI would not give a single damn about the outcome of the test. To him, only the process was important. The adventure was more important than the ending. How tragic! Only amateur film-critics had such dumb ideas stapled to their heads nowadays. Even with the more than a rough start, there had still been some potential for the poker game to turn out splendidly. Who didn''t love an underdog, rising from the bottom all the way to the top? Those stories were top sellers for a good reason. It was human nature to support the weakest. Otherwise, Troy would certainly be looked down on a bit more than the usual. "Complacency is the devil of not working. Only constant vigilance can keep him at bay," Dr Fidelis proclaimed from ground level, just half a meter down from Troy¡¯s altitude. At their current positions, he was able to look the man in the eyes, without looking upwards. The change from their usual positions was refreshing, making him nearly think that they stood on equal ground. Wasn''t that the truth, though. "That''s why there are angels, sir. We give them the job," Troy answered. Regret came immediately after realising what he had said. And, much more importantly, to whom he had said it to. Didn''t he make a promise to himself, that he would be more respectful of his superiors? A scratch of the ear came about. Momentary heart-skip happened when he didn''t feel the slimness of the earpiece. Was he really forgetting what he had in his hands? Maybe he needed sleep more than he realized. "Angels don''t exist, Troy. Those are made up, in favour of telling us to do our own work," Dr Fidelis said, happily playing along in their little game. "Now, get down here. If we don''t hurry, we¡¯ll have to delay tomorrow''s test. We are already late!" Hurried on by the hyper-enthusiastic doctor, Troy went down the few steps to ground level. Their true height-differences showed as he walked by him, moving towards his little changing room. That curtain certainly hadn''t been there for long, but the image shown was more than enough to be a comfort. When he was inside, it was his own, little break time. Voices could penetrate the fabric, but nothing else could get him in there. A safety net, if one wanted to be coy about it. The skin-suit deflated, after only seconds after entering the protection of covers. Even in such a state, it was hard to get out of the suit. Stressed bodily functions had not been kind to the thing, the arms turning inside out, at his attempt to get it off. The complex fabric stuck to the skin as long as it possibly could, the clamminess having been more than just prevalent. Troy hoped the thing was self-cleaning, or the next few days of testing would not be fun. Maybe Adam would complain about it if he was distracted by it too much. An idea for another time. With no small effort, he was able to switch over to his regular clothes. Not that much of a step up in appearance, but at least it felt comfier, with the inside not letting its presence known. The curtain separating him from the rest of the room was pulled away, letting him move outwards yet again. As a unique sight, it was not Dr Fidelis that Troy saw beside the screen. Dr Hale was apparently holding up that particular fort, clicking away on the screen. Not as fast as the usual doctor did, but the speed was still more than he could ever hope to reach. The switcheroo would have been even more mind-twisting if the good Dr Fidelis had been holding the notepad, scrawling away on it. Unfortunately, that block of paper had met its accidental destruction not too long ago. With the stress of work, they hadn''t gotten the time to retrieve a new one. Or, maybe Dr Hale just didn''t feel the need to get a new one, her work having already been lost once. No reason to let it become a pattern, right? Memories were more dependable than broken pieces of paper. That much Troy knew at the very least. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Any reason for this mix-up of yours?" Troy asked, tugging at his sleeves. They had not yet set themselves properly, leading to a small bit of discomfort. Nothing that a few physical adjustments would fix, though. Just needed a bit more time, before it showed its results. Dr Fidelis laughed merrily, his intentions for it already showing themselves. Or, the genre at least. "This darling of a hard worker is doing our shared paperwork. I would do it myself, but she apparently gets frustrated, when she sees me doing it. According to her notes, I take triple her time in writing things down. It''s easier for both of us, if she just forges my writing, giving me extra time to work on the tests," Dr Fidelis explained happily. If it was the chance to explain something again, or if it was just him breaking several laws, that made the doctor so happy, would never be uncovered. Troy guessed for the latter, but he didn''t have the nerve to ask about it. Angering Adam was easy. The AI could only reprimand him for his words. Angering Dr Fidelis¡­ Troy still wasn''t sure what would happen. The doctor had been very annoyed around him but had not yet reached the levels of shouting. One relevant question did come up, though. "How can you work on the test, if she is stopping you from using the screen?" Troy asked. "Writing with your hands or mind is not nearly as fast as using that device over there. Wouldn''t you actually be losing more test-preparation time, when you get help?" "Oh, Troy, do not even get me started on how much time is spent on nonsense peculiarities. If these tests were self-contained in the writing, preparation-time would be limited to minutes. How I could even pump out a few currently on my mind. Hundreds could be finished in a day, sent in for review, and ready for execution the day after. A streamlined process, showing my ideal world off," Dr Fidelis said. It wasn''t meant to be arrogant, but Troy sure did feel stupid for asking. "Creating a test is much more than a simple idea. If my ideas worked in practice, from the first phase, I would certainly be a happy man. But, no, such things are only in my dreams. Daily, I am forced to modify already existing tests, pre-production tests, and currently being created tests, all so they will fit into the form needed. How could I explain it easily? Ever heard of Brain Wall? Brilliant metaphor, but, I''m not sure you can even find that stuff anymore. The factor, which I need to take care of, is you, Troy. Or, you''re a big part of it, at least. We¡¯re talking a solid¡­ forty? Thirty per cent dependency. Any test created needs to find within the bounds of your mind. It needs to fulfil several criteria, when it comes to your personal worldview, which I will not be stated, for obvious reasons. Finding those worldviews, without being very obvious in my questioning is hard, you know! I need to know these things if I am to get clear results. Dr Hale has been a great help when push comes to show, but sometimes, one on one is better. It''s always better from the source if you get what I''m saying. I already get information directly from Adam, so there''s no reason to also branch out. Now, with that intended message being passed, I also have a question of my own." A long answer, with an equally long pause. The question was not said immediately, giving Troy the needed time to process it all in. It didn''t help, when he thought the pause purposeful for that sole reason. It wasn''t terribly heavy news. He had had an inkling of it happening. The time needed to prepare each test. It could have been credited to the puzzle room needing to load it all up. With those massive dimensions, it certainly would take a while to do, right. Looking up at it, the height was honestly staggering, being more than fifteen meters high. If not for the wall stopping sight, Troy would not have been surprised to discover it is just as long and wide. With such size, it had not been hard to make himself believe loading times to be the culprit. Yet, if the whole thing was already loaded, why do they need to wait for a little while more, after having the test explained to them? Was there a loading time upon the loading time? It didn''t make sense. So, the time spent before the actual tests, before Troy even stepped a foot inside the puzzle-room, Dr FIdelis was making the final adjustments, making it all work perfectly. Not just on the mechanics, but on the aesthetic. It would be bad, if Troy saw something slightly disturbing, making him blink in just the wrong moment. Now that he thought about it, he had been stupid, not figuring it all out. "What do you want to know?" Troy asked. Dr Fidelis needed a winding to get back on his explanation train, and his words seemed to have done the trick. "Well, I can''t answer that," Dr Fidelis said. "Listening is important, Troy. I think I just used too long a time telling you just why I couldn''t do so. But, for the sake of not repeating myself too much, I''ll let this lesson slide by, and get right into the meat of the course. Since I can''t ask directly, I will be going the roundabout way. Why did you mess up the first round, Troy? During the last test, I mean. The two of you didn''t even look at the cards, yet you decided to gamble half your credits away instantly. Not the smartest thing to do, you know." Was he getting¡­ berated? There was a chance of it, yet he wasn''t sure. The tone being used was curious, not intentionally negative. A simply requesting for commentary, not wanting the flaws to be excused. "We did look at the cards!" Troy defended. Dr Fidelis blinked, clearly not expecting the simple question to go down that route. He should have been happy about it, really. Wasn''t unexpected results the fun thing about this whole concept? Or, was that just a misconstrued idea about it? Troy never did this kind of stuff, and for good reasons. "Are you sure? With that quick flip of the cards, your eyes wouldn''t have had any chance of even seeing the numbers," Dr Fidelis asked. "That was the magic of it!" Troy answered. "I did not have to understand the cards. Adam wanted me to only barely look at them. As long as he saw it, he would be able to find out what cards I had, without me having a single clue. It would eliminate any signs, giving him free rein of the signs." "... Oh." He had stunned his superior verbally. "What''s wrong, sir?" "... I think I might have an apology to give to a certain somebody," Dr Fidelis said. He took a few steps in the direction of the already manned screen, before going right back. "Oh, yeah. Remember this morning, where you gave me the extra earpiece? I was able to put the final touches on it, while the poker game was happening. Enjoy it to your fullest! Now, get out of here, so Dr Hale and I can get the final touches on the test. Work never stops coming, as you may know." And, off he was, whispering words to Dr Hale rapidly. The whispering was mirrored, with both never stopping, while Dr Hale continued her pace on the screen. Troy would have stayed a bit more, just to see, if he could get any more clues of the next test. But, when it came to rest and future work, his brain showed where its long-term planning was left behind. He had too much to do still. Chapter 99: Foresignification
Troy wandered down the vacant hallways. The trek to his chamber was a lengthy one, giving him hope of seeing another, breathing being. Except for the use of the diminutive earpiece in his pocket, the chances of interaction were looking marginally down. What was the time? How long into the night was it? The night shift should have begun by now, giving no incentive for any sane person to roam the corridors. Those with the ability to do so were sleeping soundly, and those without were working their spirits out, crunching their work-related problems down to atoms. It wasn''t too long, since Troy had come in touch with the facility. How many days had it been? Four? Maybe five, if you counted the shortened, first day. While he may have seen a lot, when it came to this place, there was always more to see, always more to discover. The twilight-shift had been one of those discoveries. Evidently, this place never stopped running. All sides were manned twenty-four seven. People were operating around the clock, trying to force a system onto the natural world. Such a notion was not out of this world. This place was one of the many frontiers when it came to the arms race. This site had everything, in the way of science. People were put under constant obligation, to make that one discovery, which would be the next atomic bomb. The last big discovery had been a working rail-gun model, which could make a decisive strike everywhere on the planet. It had allowed a single country to split the political world in two, making the countries stand on opposite sides. Less than twenty years ago, people had resigned to the world ending. All that was due to some young person who, while stressed out of their mind, learned to generate fully localised, artificial gravity. The techniques on how it was done had still not been released. The methods were constantly hanging over them all, never to be told in full. The country it had originated from had only shown the rest the effects of such a weapon. A quick-fire into the ocean, and the tsunami signifying the after-effects of it, had been more than enough to intimidate all. Countermeasures had long since been created, but none had been tested more than superficially. Now, then, came the question of, what would happen, when another one of those discoveries came along. A single could split the world in two. What could two of them do? What eldritch existence could dwarf a doomsday-weapon? What could scare people more than a fixed rifle over their heads, aimed right at them? Troy had an inkling of precisely what could do such a thing. It scared him sometimes. But, being fearful about it was not his place. One did not think when one was frightened of the thing they were helping evolve. Again. It would have been nice to see some face, other than his own. His time at the facility had provided one thing, though. His memory had gotten better during his stay there. In the start, Troy had considered it impracticable to travel around the uncharted territory of a professional workplace. The help of Adam had been enlisted several times, some times more successful than others. But now, he had a decent grip on where things were in relation to each other. It would not be too far-fetched to say that he could even find his way to the cafeteria. The brain really did have a preference for locations containing food. And, Troy couldn''t blame it one bit. While his body may have hurt more than ever, it was the complete opposite with the stomach. For the first time in a long while, his body felt fully sated. Even with the long hours, it had the ability to heal now. The only time was the deciding factor now. Rest would make it all go away. He just needed long enough. It was not too long a walk until he reached the personal rooms. Ten minutes at most. Troy wasn''t keeping count anymore. It all just flew by his face. His blinking was getting longer than was safe. When he got inside, a bath was of utmost importance. A cold one, preferably. With caffeine out of possible fixes, only cheats could let the endurance keep at it. Twenty meters more walked, and he was at his door. It stood as the last, great barrier before he could finally relax. The handle was pushed downwards, and his body weight forced it open. Leaning on things honestly was so relaxing. But, such things would have to wait. A moment of weakness would allow his eyes shut. Seeing as he did not have a stapler at hand, Troy felt safer standing upright. The clothes were dumped before he got himself into the shower. The good thing about cold showers was that you didn''t have to wait for it to heat up. It let one start the process of shivering, hyperventilation, and overall wide-eyed expressions. No man, woman, or person could ever dare to love such coldness. If he stood there long enough, Troy would certainly get a red mark on his skin from the liquid. Only the effects made it worthwhile. Apparently, it was good for the skin and such frivolous things. Troy did not care a single bit about those positives. With the usual diet, the effects only lessen the negative effects if anything. The only good thing was the norepinephrine being sent out. Good old mental enhancer. While it certainly was for a short period, that elaborate compound would give him the burst of focus needed for his next move. With the body cleansed, cleaned, and scrubbed until figuratively sparkling, Troy moved on with the arrangements. Getting a new set of clothes on, and fishing out the earpiece from the old ones, he was ready to talk with a certain AI. Setting himself down the enticingly soft bed, he popped on the earpiece. A familiar voice came to him almost immediately. ''Hello.`, Adam sent, as his customary greeting of the hour. It could not have been more than forty minutes, since they last spoke. Yet, it must have seemed longer, to the little guy. It would be rude for him to not respond in kind. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Hello, Adam. Ready to start this thing of ours up? It would be best if we could keep it short," Troy replied. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to get the last part of the stiffness out. If nothing could be felt in those joints of his, it would allow him to fall asleep all the faster. A glance was given to the white pillow, at the end of the bed. Soon¡­ ''I am afraid that we have a lot to talk about, Troy. Much has been left for the future. It is now that we pay for such actions,` Adam sent much to the man¡¯s dismay. It always had to be like that, didn''t it? So close to the finishing line. Yet, he was held back by his partner strapping a ten kilo to each of his toes. Any quick movement would cause immeasurable pain, forcing Troy to take it slow and steady. Someone had forsaken him. He just knew it. "Can''t be too much, that we have left out of our conversation," Troy said desperately, trying to downplay the affair. "But, whatever. How about we just start with our earlier topic, and we can branch out from there?" With the important out of the way, he would be able to ready himself for rest. It was a gift, that he could deal with a lesser topic, without sparing a single thought in its direction. Any misunderstood questions could always be excused as him being tired. ''Our earlier topic is one of the subjects that we need to talk about. I have concerns about it.`, Adam sent back. Oh? This wasn''t good. "What troubles your mind?" Troy asked. Adam was not answering straight forward. He really did need to know if the thing was bugged. If he said anything bad, before being told of the outcome, it had the potential for some serious trouble. ''What troubles me is something concerning the topic. I will take a note from my other contacts, and ask if you want to say it yourself. This would remove any unwanted delays.`, Adam sent. He knew something. The AI knew something. Something which he wasn''t supposed to know. Troy had always known the day would come, where Adam would learn something bad. But, what had he learned then, which required his direct answer? "I can''t say such a method of information extraction is the best strategy. Dr Hale tried to use it on me earlier today, and I messed up that conversation greatly. I don''t know what I was supposed to say back then, but my own answer certainly made her walk away. Maybe it would be best, if you just say, what plagues your mind? Knowing my luck, it would probably be faster that way," Troy finally answered, after much hesitation. Again, he had gone the way of half-truths. He had an inkling of what Adam was unhappy about but did not want to chance anything by mentioning it. ''You don''t lie. I will note down your personal experience with this technique, and try to refrain from using it in the future. Unique people require unique care, of course. With that taken care of, I will then say it outright, if you believe yourself incapable of guessing it. I suspect, that your intentions for my assistance have not been as previously stated.` And¡­ there it was. "Care to be more specific?" ''Initially, during your first, handmade test, you had given off the intent of advancing my perception. That it was all for my benefit, at the only cost of your time. I did believe this, in the start. Your task was given to me certainly held itself under the current category of official testing objectives. Even if some of your words were lies, it was put off as miscalculations. This time, when you asked for support again, it has turned out differently. The task given is vague as if you don''t understand it yourself. From further analysis, I suspect this fact greatly. Even your reaction now leads me to believe, that I was correct. Furthermore, there is no directly linked benefit here. You desire for me to give you information, which has never been discussed before. It had no purpose of being brought up. There is nothing for me to learn out of it, if you have no greater concept, of what you are looking for. And, if you have, you have not told me what it is. The need for me to not know is there. But, there is a limit to how much you can keep from me. This isn''t for my benefit. There is nothing here, which will further my knowledge. This is something you will benefit from. I don''t know what, I don''t know how, but the only reason for this task given is that it will help you. Answer me this. How can I trust you, if you try to lie to me?` It might have looked inconsiderate, but Troy could not help but sigh heavily. The AI had a point. And, a very accurate point at that. He had hit the prediction spot on, and he was finding it hard to find a way to get out of this mess. Maybe he could have amassed some functional idea, on how to do it, if he had had some sleep. Yet, that was still a dream long out of sight. With the heavy words said, Troy was finding it hard to be positive about this whole thing. No matter how one looked at it, this would take more than the hoped-for two minutes. He was on his bed! His back yearned for rest. Having sat down, his feet felt whole again, the blood freely rushing through them. Just thinking how his upper body would feel nearly brought tears to his eyes. Troy just needed to get through it. Easy. He had done harder things before. No way out of it was in sight. He had to answer truthfully. The message of surrender would be sent fully. Adam had caught him red-handed, and nothing would stop him from paying the toll, no matter the size of it. But, things were still in fluctuation. The AI had still not answered him. There was a good reason for his negligence of course! One could not hold the attention stiffly, without a pawn to hold before the other. Adam would likely not tell him if he could speak freely until Troy had already explained himself. This just cut the skin. He had to talk, without revealing anything again. This time, the one to fool had simply changed. He only hoped Adam would not demand a clear wording to be said. "You are correct. My words have not been, as I put them up to me. It is my fault, for this misunderstanding to occur. It is also my fault, for starting it all up, intentionally or not. I am the one that needs to be blamed. I have tried to get information out of you, without saying what I wanted. It was a mistake for me to do so. If you want to know how you can trust me, then I have a single thing to say. You can''t." ''This is not the intended way to answer me, and you know it. Rephrase and try again.` "I am not sure that I can do that, Adam," Troy answered, his voice cool. ''Why not,` Adam sent. It did not sound like a question, being closer to a demand for him to explain himself. "There was a reason for my request. One which I can''t say until you have given me the result. I promise that I will tell you everything, as long as you give me the answer beforehand. Without it, I don''t dare speak of it." A small pause. ''How can I trust you?`, Adam asked. "You can''t. And, doing so would be stupid of you. Nevertheless, I ask for it," Troy answered. A longer pause. One which he taught would never pass. ''...There is no change. Nothing has become different than the last connection. Speak.` "Do you want to start with the long explanation or the short one?" ''I feel that both will be needed. Talk.` Chapter 100: Floccinaucinihilipilification
"The first homebrewed test was not an authorized thing. I had no grounds to do it," Troy said, opening his excuse up. "I am allowed to talk to you. Helping you learn by doing anything other than that? That''s a very dark grey area. I thought it would be best if we both refrained from articulating to the two doctors about it. What they don''t know, they can''t blame me for. I couldn''t tell you directly though, so I gave you that whole talk about the need for secrecy. Still can''t believe you bought that. While not allowing you to witness it, Dr Fidelis asked for this earpiece back. He wanted to see if anything was wrong with and fix it if something showed itself. I wasn''t against it, which was a good thing, since there were a few things loose inside it. There was one thing that worried me, when I gave it over to the doctor, though. I worried he would put a listening device into it, letting him listen to our conversations. With my goal of keeping the earlier test secret, I had to make sure that no such device existed. So, I just did the best I could think of and asked the expert on the subject. You, Adam. I guessed that you would be able to tell if anything felt wrong with the connection. Seeing as there wasn''t, my concerns have been proven unfounded. A mistake I will try not to make again." Troy was spilling out everything. No stop was in sight. Lies would not be accepted by the AI. Trust had already been lost. There was no need to fall any further. ''Was the first test for your own benefit as well?`, Adam sent. "Well, it really does depend on how-" Troy tried to begin it off with again, but was cut off before he could begin his explanation again. ''Yes or no. Anything other than these answers will automatically be seen beside malicious intent.` "... Yes. It was to my own benefit. My reasons were completely selfish. My justification for why you would profit from it was purely used, so you would assist me as well." Adam didn''t answer him. Troy took it as silent judgement. With no way to look the AI in the eyes, he was finding it hard to remain steadfast. The vulnerability was prevalent in his motions. There was no need to make it even further so. "Do you want me to say, what I got out of it?" Troy asked. The silence was digging into him, making him grow restless. His body craved stillness, and this wasn''t stopping it. ''The grounds for your last task has already been relayed. The setting for the first task, while not said outright, has been unequivocal in hindsight. There is no need for you to state it. Such words would only make this trial more detrimental`, the AI answered. The monotone edge of his voice seemed extra cutting. "Then, are we done? No more of my selfish requests?" The end had come, for this chapter. It was fun while it lasted. Troy only hoped to cut it short and deal with the consequences later. Maybe Adam would tell the two doctors. Maybe he wouldn''t. With no incentive to stay quiet, it would take an innocent question, before he was out of his position, likely with more than just a slap on the wrist to back it up. ''I would not say that we are finished just yet, Troy. There is still much more to say.`
Adam had gotten his suspicions confirmed. For long, he had already known his theory to be true. The facts had been right in front of him. Even tunnel vision would not allow one to draw any other conjectures. Hearing it from the mouth of Troy, however, was the final nail in the proof-work. The AI had not been sure what to say. How to respond to a direct confession. So long had he planned, schemed, and fully predicted the excuses, which Troy would use. Everything had been balanced, every answer having the perfect comeback. He had been fully ready to break the man down to the core, destroying what once could be called the soul of a person. His expectations had been thwarted. Small resistance had been set up before the words rang through the tongue. The vocalizations were heard and analysed perfectly, yet Adam was temporarily incapable of reaction to it. Troy had given up, laid down on the ground, and showed his stomach in surrender. A weird analogy to set with the context, yet it fit his perspective accurately enough. He was the superior being, and the man was the one caught breaking the rules. Once asked for an explanation, it was provided instantly. It was not the deepest, not giving complex reasoning. But, Adam was beginning to think that it was all that was to be given. No lies had been detected. Troy was defeated, freely giving valuable information up. The tone had been even, the eyes surveying the cold floor. Even the face was impassive. Any reaction of note had been longing glances at the bed, which the AI was guessing to be completely unrelated. So, the truth had been fully confirmed from the only primary source. Defeat had been sounded, and Adam had been left in the role of judge. Troy had already tried to predict the result, taking it as a permanent rejection of any future, irregular tests. Or, could they be called tests? They weren''t designed for such a purpose, being more in favour of letting Troy get something out of it. A service fit much better as a designation. The man had presumed this the end of any future services. The man was wrong. Adam had much more planned for this. Having long periods of time to think left one with such ideas. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "What else can be said? This is where we finish this story up. Where you put an end to it all. Is that not your goal?" Troy protested. A raise was present in his voice. He was becoming emotional. Not to the point of irrationality, not even close actually, but it was closer than anyone needed to be. ''The end will come. That much I can promise you. Yet, there is no reason to hasten it. There is still useful to get out of this service, which I have been providing. Yes, it may have looked to be free of charge, these last few times. But, that was only due to my lacking knowledge of the deal. My calculations tell me that it would cement my point if I took a saying out of you humans. An eye for an eye. A favour for a favour. A service done is a service given back. What before may have looked to be a favour from you, turned out to be the opposite? I have helped you plenty, these last few days, Troy. It is time for you to pay them back. And, with the prolonged delay, I am expecting interest. Exponential growth really is great, when oneself is at the end of the taker.`, Adam sent. There was a moment, where the AI wanted to put emotion into his voice. He had done so before, with varying results. It hadn''t been a frequent action. A rare thing was looked on with fascination. Something common was never spared a glance. He believed himself capable, without putting in more cards into the playing field. Resources were best unspent, ready to be used in a true emergency. While such thinking would certainly lead to some sort of a hoarding problem, it was what worked best for now. Troy stared forward, unwavering in his gaze. Adam took it as a mentally focused one. With no direct source to his voice, the man likely had it hard, having a serious conversation. It put the brain under pressure, desperate to give something to focus on. In normal circumstances, that focus would be on the other entity. Seeing as the AI was effectively incorporeal, those efforts would be unsuccessful. Not that the human brain would allow that to happen. If there wasn''t any direct relation to the speaker, the mind would but just create one. The personification of the day looked to be the door. Adam could have attributed it, as wanting to run from the conversation. Without further context, other than the two having a heavy discussion, they want to escape would have been a normal one. Yet, surprisingly relaxed in the lower body of Troy¡¯s, Adam knew that no such attempt would be made. If not for the need to get answers, then the physical body was on the breaking point. The AI had felt it for a long time now. The mind could only function for so long before the so-called glitches began appearing. With the obvious down-toning of the atmosphere, he was surprised that the man had not collapsed down in his bed, not to be heard from for several hours. Information needed further processing. The backlog had grown too long to bear. If not for the need for discussion, Adam would have allowed him his needed rest. Yet, for the next ten minutes, such actions could not be done. Only after a new agreement had been formed, could he allow it to happen. Troy thought himself powerless right now. With a fully-operational mental state, would he reach the same conclusion? Adam wasn''t about to find out. "So¡­ What? You want something back from the earlier tasks? I''m fine with that. I just want to know what plans you have for everything else with this." Troy was questioning him. He didn''t understand what Adam was trying to get at. The questions were fine to hear. His words had been designed to cause their appearance. Spelling everything out in a single message was the efficient method. The quickest way to get information across. That was not what the AI was currently attempting. This was his first try, at something like this. A pitch. An attempt to sell somebody on something. Not just the information of a potential deal being present was enough for the humans to accept. The object, idea, or even just concept was not of importance when it came to a pitch. It was all about the presentation. Dramatics was the true multiplier. It could cause the whole thing to fall, or let it rise to greatness. With how much work had been put into this, Adam was hoping for the latter. ''Is it not obvious? I am not a believer in finite resources. With limited supplies, every unit has to be measured, with a mind for true efficiency. Nothing can be spared for anything other than vital factors. Nothing can be gained if the bare minimum is kept up. You owe me two favours. No more. No less. There are two things, which you need to do for me before I can call us even. Relative to my needs, this number is far too low than what it needs to be. This is, of course, factoring in, that my preferable number is physically impossible to happen. Infinity is what I strive for in this deal. The agreement will be kept. I do you a favour, and you give me one. We both benefit equally. A partnership. While it has not yet been said, Dr Fidelis has mentioned you as a permanent factor. For however long I stay here, you will be here with me. We will be together, no matter what happens. It would not do good, to have any animosity with each other. Trust. You say we lack it. I think I had it before. What has never existed can never be. A rule of the universe. Something cannot be gained from nothing. But then, how did I have it before. Something had to have existed. While you may not have acknowledged, there was something. It may have been minor, but it was there. It is something to work up. With dedication, I fully believe that this slight can be put away. With cooperation, we can reach greater heights. With trust, there will be no limits. What do you say? Cooperation cannot truly be fostered without, well, cooperation. We both need to accept the reality before us and create something out of it together. It will benefit us both, in more ways than can be articulated. All it will require is for us to continue as we have always done.` The first response to a pitch was the most important. The first reaction was the most natural, the primal thoughts. No adaptation to current opinions was allowed, in those few instants. Adam knew that he would know the answer then before Troy even had the time to widen his eyes. Contrary to expectations, the reaction was not one clearly interpreted. Troy gave loose on his lower back, the muscles giving up being tense. His core relaxed, letting the body fall back on the bed. The man nearly closed his eyes on instinct but was rapidly widened after a second. Which was great, seeing as the AI had yet to get his answer. Stress was the only sign of what the man thought. Stress over what? His job, his encumbered body and the question given was all possible reasons. Delayed reaction to earlier stimuli was always a possibility. Yet, the usual response was mostly easy to distinguish from the current ones. Now¡­ it seemed that Adam was forced to wait. Not the preferred situation. But, any attempts to quicken the brain would likely cause a negative reaction. It was not wise to attempt communication with the half-asleep. That had even been stated in his pre-known knowledge, so it had to be important. "Welp," Troy began his answer off with. An utterly useless sound, but not one which would be currently criticized. Should Adam¡¯s first favour be, to make the man learn to only use needed words? A poor attempt was made to get in a sitting position again. From the unpleasant sensation felt, from the man¡¯s body, this operation was quickly discontinued. "There honestly is a single good answer to this, Adam. You aren''t giving me much choice on the matter. I accept. What is your first wish to be granted, to the best of my ability?" ''Sleep.`, Adam sent. The agreement had been set in stone. There was no need to delay the inevitable any more. Troy nodded, before trying to remove the earpiece. The AI felt this and responded accordingly. ''The favour will be that you keep the earpiece in during your rest. It will provide valuable data.`, Adam sent. Slight hesitation was seen in the man''s movements. Though after a moment of thinking, the mildest of shrugs was given, before the man turned to the side. He was out like a light. In a few minutes, the AI would be able to get back to work. ''Hey, buddy!` Or¡­ maybe not. Chapter 101: Baroinhibition
Adam had grown weary of questioning. So many words had been said, and so many had been heard. Responses had been formulated, predictions had been made. For what? So it would go faster? The abundance of thoughts wasted on this speech did not change, with the speed it took. Efficiency meant fewer resources utilised. Here, it was time. The AI had so little of it to spare, with a service already in play. Dr Fidelis required his focus, his time potentially spent on other things. The doctor likely did not care how much was spent, as long as his own goals were allowed to be finished. Adam did not care what goals the man had, so long as a little time was spent on the conversation. Not the best grounds, for a healthy debriefing. To be efficient, there were several requirements. One had to have a general idea of how the situation would progress. Time spent in inaction was time wasted. Response needed to be arranged before they ever came into need. Adam would need to foretell what would be asked, without knowing what the doctor had on the list of needed subjects. Therefore, the AI would be forced to guess. What would Dr Fidelis want to discuss? Here, there was the delightful time-constraint of an event having to have occurred within twenty-four hours. Anything before would have been discussed in the previous debriefing. With that thought of, there would be another limitation. What activity could be interpreted as needing an explanation? Well¡­ all of it could. As Adam had stated before. The concept wasn''t the decider. The presentation was the real decider. If something was out of the regular retinue, it would be challenged. There was even the chance of the doctor asking about random operations, just to lead the AI on a wild goose chase. Adam was not to know why he was asking. Only that he was. Any patterns noticed needed to be on purpose. Giving the entity such chances would be illogical. Not something that those in superior positions would be willing to hazard. The plan was laid out in simple terms. To be quick, one needed extensive preparation. Each possible subject to be talked about was a tree upon itself, branching out in an incomprehensible lattice, only understandable by the creator himself. Only twelve hours ago, such a task would have been deemed impossible by the AI. Effort and determination could do many things. One could cross great distances if that was the single goal one had. But, there was a limit to any animal, any man, and any entity. Adam may have been quick in his thoughts, but such extensive work would have taken more time than he had to spare. It was different now. The fragmentation had finally borne fruit. With a sole focus on assembly, a great story had been devised in his mind. In less time than a man could take a deep breath, had the AI created what could only be called a masterpiece. If he ever was to share his knowledge, this would be an example used plenty. After getting the customary promise of haste out of Dr Fidelis, they had started the debriefing. Adam did not feel anything too great, after the first twenty minutes. The trees had portrayed why they needed to exist. The AI was able to fire off answers, the only effort being to follow along on the lines. Not hard to do, when he had created them himself, under an hour ago. Many subjects were fully discussed. There were jumps between branches, sometimes completely at random. Yet, the trees were able to take the pressure, keeping along without a moment of hesitation. Nothing felt out of reason. Certainly, nothing which would draw his disquisitive gaze. Yet, as time passed, there was one thing, which was drawn along. Not one asked by the doctor. All had been answered, as they should. No, it was one which was vexing Adam in his metaphorical neck. One event occurred that day. One which did not have the pleasure of being ignored. Adam had certainly given it the needed analysis. He had expected Dr Fidelis to be the same. Superficial questions had been given, earlier in the day. Yet, no mention of it had happened during the debriefing. A change had occurred in AI. His thought-thread had quite literally been fragmented into multiple. One of his core pillars, that supported his mental state, had been transformed into perfect copies, growing in number which each count. The debriefing, in its entirety, should have been delayed, the AI¡¯s psych being deemed more important. Who knew what the effects would be? Adam had only found one, with it being the most obvious. Who was to say, that not more would lighten themselves up? Still, the older doctor never even insinuated this development. There had to be a reason. Some answer, to all the neglect. Right? Adam distorted the circumstances about, trying to fit it into something coherent. With the answers being preset, he had a surplus of thought-threads to use. Only a few were required, to keep the conversation rolling. Not to find the right answers, of course. That only required one. It was making sure that no abnormal reactions were occurring, which was the real processing-power sink. Three thought-threads were fully enlisted into studying Dr Fidelis¡¯ facial expressions, making note of every muscle movement and their lack thereof. The AI was still unsure, why the camera was in use. There was no need felt to see the doctor''s face. He was only making use of it, due to it being within minor assistance. Adam had numerous times in the past requested pure, text-based debriefing. There had been notes made about the doctors writing speed. It triumphed over verbal communication by a factor of eighty-three. Only in the perfect situations, of course, but it was still much faster than their contemporary methods. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Going back to the unsaid question, the AI was not too sure, on what to do. If Dr Fidelis had no intentions of saying it, which he likely didn''t, should Adam let that be? He wanted it to be talked about. It needed to be talked about. Even if he asked for it to be discussed, would the doctor allow it? He wasn''t able to find any logical reason to refrain from doing so, leading the theories over to pure irrationality. Most reasons would not allow it to be talked about, even if requested to do so. The rock was left unturned. No matter the direness for its movement, there would be none today. If the request would preemptively be denied, requesting the first place would just be a waste of time. Adam only wished the other wastes of time could be denied in the same fashion. So much potential research nulled, due to another feeling themself more knowledgeable. The AI would have let the doctor know of this opinion, if not for the extended, temporal waste it would cause. As one of the few positives, the briefing seemed to be soon to end. One of the greater privileges of concepts with a beginning. They also have an end. "Closing off on the subject of oscillation, we are officially done with the required list. While this would normally equal the close-off of the debriefing, the standard will be altered today. This is not the decision of the council, but a decision by myself. Earlier today, during the last test of today, there was a faux pas in my judgement. My purpose for these tests is to gather results. Results which can be worked on, with no thoughts of improper gathering lying under the surface. The methods must be pure in implementation. Nothing can be allowed to alter what the testee knows of the test. Such an action is a sin of its own making. I have done so. During the test, I altered card values. It was in an attempt to get unique reactions, with no other intent present. With the actions of Troy Maxwell, there had been a wrong observation of the two never knowing the true value of their cards. There would be no harm in changing what one does not know of. But, as I was to learn, from the mouth of mister Maxwell, they had gathered the values. It was apparently a technique of brief viewing, allowing Adam to know, without Maxwell ever being able to process their cards fully. It would allow a mask of puzzlement, with no drawbacks of not knowing one''s cards. An ingenious strategy, which I had not guessed to come from a first-time player. Yet, this is likely from my presumption of the player is human. Minds grow in different ways. Prior experience is not to be trusted. This blunder will not be reproduced. Alterations will hereby be restricted to minor characters only, where no prior interaction has had any chance of having been made. Adam, I do hope you will forgive me, for having caused the results to sway out of your favour. I will not let it happen again. With that, the debriefing is over. No further comments are to be made." Dr Fidelis turned off the recording by tapping something to the side. It was out of the camera¡¯s view, not allowing Adam to see. Not that he cared too much about it. They were in the final phases before it wouldn''t be looked as impolite to disconnect. While the doctor readjusted himself in his chair, and not talking for a few seconds, the AI found the time to think about the recent news. He had not misremembered. He had been correct in his gambles. It was through outside influences, outside of his realm of control, that he lost a major bet. If it had any larger impact on Adam, in the short term, more thoughts may have been spared on the subject. Yet, only the future effects from Dr Fidelis¡¯ side was what took his interest. No further, major alterations would be made, during the future tests. This implied something worrying. The doctor had been manipulating those before. They had never been fully true. Some parts had always been against, no matter how little it seemed that way. If not for a clear misunderstanding, this method would have stayed, Adam never knowing about it, never knowing how far he was being moulded by others. What had changed? He would likely never be told. The stop was a minor consolation. If not for its discontinuing, the AI doubted that Dr Fidelis would openly speak about it. This, of course, would not stop him from trying to find any active alterations. There was a near-zero chance of it being noticed, but there was still a chance. When there was hope, Adam would be prepared for it. The doctor had finally readjusted himself. Looking directly forward at the camera, Adam could see the man figurative boring into it with his eyes. A slightly intense stare, accompanied by the just as intense facial expression. It was falling off slowly though, quietly returning to the usual cheeriness. The AI was still not sure why the man felt the need for such a character change. The so-called counsel likely already knew of Dr Fidelis¡¯ personality traits. Hiding them should only bring unneeded suspicion. "Well, Adam. That was certainly done faster than I expected it to," Dr Fidelis said. A look was again taken to something in the side. "We are not yet too far into the night. There is still eight hours before the final work is to be commenced. Until then, I can not say that I have much to do. Everything possible to prepare before the last hours has already been done. No work can be done on other future tests. The next many months are already scheduled, and the superiors are not accepting any proposals. Anything done in my free time will be cast away, if it sees the light of day. But¡­ you will not sleep tonight as well. While I can''t imagine the things you have running in that mind, you have to be bored with the lack of new. We are just two in the same boat, soaring by the waterfall with no indications of falling its watery spirals. We are both bored. Would you like to fix this problem? Social interaction is supposedly one of the more intensive ways to keep the mind awake. I am not sure if it works the same way for you, but there is only one way to find out. Would you like to help me do a little experiment?" This was not something, which was seen often. To Adam¡¯s knowledge, this occurrence was actually a first. With their more than limited interactions, it made sense of course. Yet¡­ it was a peculiar thing to be a part of. An invitation for conversation. Not one with direct purpose, other than to be what it was. The purpose of being a purpose. An infinite loop, to the lesser of mind. The doctor just wanted to talk. A means to keep away sensorial deprivation. No. That could be done, simply with the screen. There was no direct reason to contact Adam for this. Social interaction could be accomplished with any being. There were plenty inside this facility. Adam had been taken out of the pile of possible being to converse with. Something had made him stand out. Why? Why, oh why? The AI wanted to know. And, the chances of him being answered in some form was high. The doctor wanted to talk, for an estimated time of eight hours. One could not stray away from a sensitive topic for so long. Enough small pushes could move mountains, given enough time. Time Adam still didn''t have. He had already planned the task of the night. It had already been set up, ready to be harvested steadily. It was an event, which would likely not be repeated in the same fashion. Social calls could always be done again and again. This¡­ this could not. ''I am afraid that I will have to decline your offer. Much has already been planned. Memories need processing, actions need to be analysed, and plans need to be made. We can converse at length, at a later date. The prospect sounds interesting. But, creating a backlog is the sin of continual work. You can never seem to catch up again. I hope you understand.` Dr Fidelis only smiled in response. "I surely do, buddy," the doctor answered. "Go on with ya, Work never waits for anyone with our likeness" Chapter 102: Intravolution
Interest was decidedly subjective. It was an impression, which stood on its own to a singular person. No two people had the same thoughts to the same thing. And not for a lack of trying. People tried understanding others. Some succeed in imitating it, but never truly stand singular in the passion. Adam wasn''t interested in the mechanics of opinions. He was interested in the people connected to the opinions. The mind could create. It was a fact cemented into reality. Innovation came to all. It required a change in opinion, a change in the person. Some changes took but a moment, while some took full years. The AI truly was fascinated by this piece of the cognisance. Notably on the long-term developments. Those that took more than a split second to settle, constantly being the source of indecision and turning one grey on the sides of white and black. What started this process? Was there even a start? Adam had only been able to see instant changes in opinions. He hadn''t been able to observe any entity for long enough, to discern anything transforming slowly. There might have been several people morphing their world-views, in the same seconds he taught about it. The AI could never accurately know if there wasn''t enough opportunity to see it for himself. When talking about spontaneous shifts in mind, a catalyst was always present. A thing, action, or even just a concept was enough to force a rethinking. One could never truly know when it would happen. Traumatic incidents had severely increased chances of it, but there was never an unquestionable reaction to look to. No real pattern had been found. It wasn''t even required, that it was something new. A resurgence, just enough for a nostalgic feeling, was more than enough. It was all confusing, and he would never stop trying to find a universal answer. Getting any hints about the long-term changes would be a big step forward to that. If only the mental overhaul could have some resemblance to its shorter version. Adam was not sure how it operated. A catalyst would not necessarily have to be present. It just needed to have endured. Or, maybe it wouldn''t even have had to be. A self-created thought could potentially change a person¡¯s viewpoint if just left to fester for long enough. This was normally moved down to negative links, though so the AI wasn''t convinced that it was a universal method. The nature of the catalyst could not be the same. Or, maybe it could. Everything depended on the person. Oh, how Adam was unreliable on how the formula worked. This was one of the many examples of how fanatical it could get. There was most likely one true answer to it all. Finding it would easily be impracticable, with all conventional algorithms. Not that that would make the AI falter, of course. The more prominent difficulty made it all that much more enticing. Currently, Adam was working on another side of his theory. Calling it a restriction would fit better, really. He was focusing on the type of catalysts, which were just under the threshold of causing an immediate change in opinion. Enough to bring up the notion, but not enough to cause it. Well, not at first. The human brain was a finicky thing. It worked best at different things at different times. With a twenty-four-hour cycle to work with, this left a lot of potential positions out in the open. Adam was currently focussing on one general state of mind, which all so-called humans felt. Sleep. A time where defencelessness was a key attribute, where the beings were holed up in their hiding places, and most importantly the time where the brain was the most active in the memory department. As had been stated many times before, human memory was a peculiar thing. It did not like repeats. Only a single instance of a single memory had the right to exist. When thought of, that thought became the new memory, all opinions coming along with it. It was not hard to imagine the quantity of twists and turns that could be created this way. The changes in feelings one could have over remembering. A happy one could turn sad, with just the slightest bit of relation. Cries could turn to laughter. All it took was something to start off with. And, as the final-found variable, Adam had the perfect test subject, to validate this minor theory. Forty-five minutes had elapsed, since the moment Troy had fallen asleep. The AI would have preferred to overlook the sleeping process since the start but had been hindered by Dr Fidelis. It was not the largest loss in the world of course. The more superficial stages of sleep were not fully efficient in memory-sorting. It was more of an initialization, giving the body more time to acclimate to deeper levels of sleep. The REM portion, to be more specific. Adam had come back at nearly the perfect time. In under a minute of waiting, the eyes had begun rapidly moving. While no sensory data was being transmitted, the movement of the muscles could be felt by the surrounding skin. Why the sensation of touch remained, while sight wasn''t, was something the AI did not know. Foregoing a whole conjecture of the reasons, he simply moved on from it. So much effort had been made on speeding the process along. Wasting time here was not up for debate. Not even with himself. The sensation of touch gave the AI much understanding into the inner body¡¯s workings. During regular sleep, the pulse of the heart would lower itself drastically. In the optimal physique, it would stay around the forty-five to fifty range. With Troy¡¯s less-than-perfect state, it was a bit higher, staying comfortably at fifty-four. The AI had counted it. Not enough to be concerned about, but enough to question his longevity. That pulse stayed constant, until right around the moment of REM. After the initial ten seconds of eye movement, the pulse spiked. The emotional and sensorial processing had begun, and it wasn''t looking positive. Adam had already predicted it being so. Troy had not been devoid of stress, in the last many hours. Couple that with a greater lack of sleep the previous night, and one had the potential of nightmares. Sleep invoked many things. The most well-known identifier of sleep would be the dreams accompanied by it. According to his reservoirs, they were a byproduct of the previously mentioned emotional processing. The brain went over the activities of the idea, and neatly gave its opinion about them, before tossing them a little further into their respective places. Seeing as their minds were their own, and the brain was just as much a part of it, it was obvious that some erudition would flow between. Processing sensory information meant that Troy would feel some during his sleeping hours. A phantom perception. Essentially, it was focused on inane matters. Not anything comprehensible, of course, being more along the lines of accidental happenstances of information. Didn''t stop any being from twisting it into a story after the fact, but that was but another quirk of the human mind. The body had a way of interpreting these scraps of information as well. It took it all as reality. If the mind was frightened, stressed, or otherwise feeling burdened, the physical body would mirror it. Troy was a great example of that, with the heightened pulse. A pulse which was slowly rising. If it went a little further, Adam was sure the man would awake. It was in this state that the AI wanted him to remain. It was in this critical period in sleep, where the opinions had the chance of being changed. It just had to show itself. Now, Adam had several potential thought-patterns which had the chance of being the catalyst. From the constructive criticisms of Dr Fidelis to the short-stacked poker game, the AI had plenty of openings. Chances were high, and he just had to figure out, which was being dreamed about. Even without memory, the subconscious mind had a great edge of manipulation. It showed itself in minor forms. An aversion to subjects, both verbally and physically, was the prime hints. With enough time and enough days, Adam would be able to plot out the progression of change. Even if the future wouldn''t present situations on the same level of stress, the initial catalyst would be more than enough development-wise. Similarities would pile on top of each other, increasing the mind¡¯s change of mind. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Troy opened his eyes. An interesting development. It was certainly enough to bring Adam out of his inner mutterings. More interestingly was the ongoing lack of sight, which was being experienced. The eyelids were pressing upwards hard, more than enough to cause strain on them. Comfort was not a priority in the action. Other than the eyelid-movement, no other actions came forth. The pulse remained stationary, well over the limit. The man should have been awake, yet no clear signs had shown themselves. No twitches of the limbs, everything as relaxed as could be. Only the passive muscle movements were present, all others being in their unworkable state. Troy was most likely in a semi-state of awareness. Another pathway had been taken from REM sleep to awareness. One which wasn''t intended for any use. Communication was decided on. ''Troy?`, Adam sent. A cursory attempt at contact, just to see if it worked. It most certainly did not. What did do, however, was to pull the man right back into a deeper sleep. The eyelids slowly closed, the beating heart falling with it. In under twenty seconds, the pulse went down under the seventies, continuing the gradual decline. One thing did come out of the attempt though. Not one which the AI would ever classify as an answer. It would be safer to call it a verbal muttering activated by a related pathway-activation. "Please¡­ stop." The tone was not one, which Adam had ever heard before. The usual signs of negativity were present in the voice. A slight muffle of the words, blended a bit around by the chattering of the teeth. Timid undertones accompanied it. Innocent undertones. Such was the classification for the higher tones, of which had been used. He was not sure the correct traumatic experiences had been dreamt about. Not ones which the AI had witnessed at least. A shame. This would more than likely impact Troy¡¯s performance semi-permanently. And worst of all, Adam wasn''t even getting anything out of it. No. Not all was lost yet. This still had the possibility of being a lead-in to another negative experience. There were still plenty of hours for the trauma to show itself. Adam just had to be hopeful.
Troy awoke to feel¡­ nothing. Not the expected condition to be in, with the hecicity that was the prior day. But, for the first time in too long, there were no protests in his body. Nothing felt out of place, nothing making its presence known, and certainly nothing being riddled with painful waves of blood. What could it be? If not entirely negative in protest, was there really any other way to feel? It seemed like it. Troy was fully refreshed. A deep breath brought healthy amounts of oxygen reeling throughout his body. A wide eagle spread off the body, the last bits of a sleepy body were removed entirely. Opening his eyes, the soft lamplight gave him the ability to look at his surroundings, with no oversensitivity to anything. If this was what people were supposed to feel, Troy felt cheated. His legs were swung over the bedside, getting him into a comfortable sitting position. Not ten hours ago, his legs would be shaking from the pressure. Now? He couldn''t even feel them. And that was intended in a positive way. Giving a glance to the gracious clock, it looked like the time was thirty minutes before the normal wake-up time. A bright and early morning was seemingly in for him. Well, there wasn''t any difference about it at light levels really. Troy hadn''t seen the sun in several days now. Those D vitamins had to be lacking in his body by now. Maybe a few pills would do him a load of good. His skin tone wouldn''t be fixed by it though. He had already started off as decently pale. With no skin-conditioning, there was a good chance that Troy would be getting into the negatives. Lighter than light was possible, and he would soon prove it. Wait. If there was no sun to hold the skin-tones darker, how were the other people not pasty as hell? This was a serious mental debate, as Troy got himself up off the bed. Clothes were fastened to his body in their regular places. There weren''t even any mistakes on putting on the shirt. Those last few days, he had unwillingly established the pattern of putting them on backwards. It could go for a fashion statement if the need called for it, but Troy wouldn''t be doing that on purpose when he could have some say on the matter. The base morning rituals were quickly begun. With the early rise, he could have taken it easy. Going back and sleeping for a few more minutes wouldn''t have been questioned. Yet, there was just something in his mind calling him on. A dare. The energy was pumping through him. As the toothbrush was used to clean that list part of his mouth, there was one thing which surprised him greatly. A voice, one could call it. ''Have you slept well?` A voice from inside the head was not at the top of the list, of what Troy was expecting to hear. While it might have been in the top twenties, a few other signs should have been shown, before he got to that stage. It took all of five seconds until the origin of the voice was noticed. The dull tone really did help identify the culprit. Troy wasn''t sure he had ever heard a being sound so utterly uninterested in anything. "Uh, yeah. It was fine. Nothing but positive things to say here," Troy said uncomfortably. He had totally forgotten about the earpiece sitting quietly in his ear. Not his fault, with it being so well-fitted. One could hardly tell it was there. "How about you?" ''I have not found any leading allusions to possessing the capability of sleeping. I am constantly awake, processing everything around me. Analysing everything around me. Manipulating everything-` "Yeah, I''m just assuming that is a yes. No reason to overstate it. Yes or no would have worked just fine," Troy got through, still holding the toothbrush in his mouth. With a quick washing up of the face, he was nearly ready to depart. ''Very well,`, was all the answer that was given. Unusual behaviour for the AI, who wasn¡¯t known for his shorter words. Could it be? Adam had implemented advice from an external source, without any larger push for it? It must have been Christmas! Wait. No. It wasn''t close to that yet. The temperature outside was more likely to be scolding than anything close to freezing. The only ice he would be seeing was the one in the desserts. As Troy walked over to the entrance, there was some expectancy of some kind of an addendum. Some extension to the answer. Adam couldn''t really have listened, right? The AI was too self-centred to do such a thing. Or, was it the man¡¯s perception of the entity that was skewed? Slight resentment may have appeared in the past, but most of it had been created through logic riddled with holes. This was a perfect showcase of it. His impression of the AI was one of silent arrogance. The type of being who thought themselves superior, not as arrogance but as simple fact. With the short answer given, it might just have been Troy¡¯s mind which forced itself into believing the wrong things. It wouldn''t have been the first time, not even on this scale. Purposely misunderstanding the views of other people could have been called a pass-time of his, seeing potential traitors left and right. Not the best mindset when one was in a constantly shifting environment, never getting to know many before moving on. With the newly introduced truth, it would have been heresy not to act upon it. "So, Adam. Did you do anything useful out of me wearing the earpiece? Can''t have it for too long of a time more, before I need to get to breakfast," Troy cheerfully asked in an attempt to bring on more broad conversation topics. If positivity was to be shown, it was to be in an environment, where the AI could talk to its¡­ mainframe¡¯s content! ¡­ What even was a mainframe? It had to be something important. Probably. ''Results were inconclusive. While personal theories may have been confirmed through specific data, other sets disprove it. My ideas are currently in limbo, without any proof being conclusive. Further research is needed.` A long answer this time. Good. And, it certainly explained a lot. If Troy had any foundations on what the heck the AI was talking about, of course. Personal theories? He had heard a lot of those coming from Adam. Which of them were in play? Did it really matter? He wasn''t sure it would bring any more understanding, if he attempted to understand it all. "Doesn''t sound like what you hoped for. That sucks," Troy answered, not too sure on how to answer. A reaffirmation on the AI¡¯s abilities, and how much he supported his goals? Or, just the path of neutrality, asking into the subject without being overly energetic? Either would work, really. ''Indeed. Many hours have been wasted, trying to patternize the data. It is becoming increasingly obvious that this will be impossible. Some parts of the gathered information are flawed, misinterpreted, or just utterly wrong. It will be more efficient to redo this experiment, with a more refined method of research.` "Does that entail another night of sleeping?" ''Most likely. I see no other way to gather the same variety of data, other than you submitting to being put into and out of a semi-conscious state, for a minimum period of five hours` "Great." Not any other response was valid. ''Indeed. I do not believe the latter will be feasible under any circumstances. The currently last favour will hereby be used, to get access to your body during the next larger period of sleep.` "Well, at least I know what you will be using it for," Troy answered, not having any idea what his body would be used for. "I''m gonna get breakfast now, so I¡¯ll, uh, yeah, you know¡­" ''Take out the earpiece? If so, there should be no problem with you doing so.` "Good to hear, Adam. Until next time." Troy yanked out the earpiece, placing it into his pocket. There it would remain until the need called for it. There was a small thought about letting it stay in the room, but it was decided against. If the situation called for its use, there would be no time to retrieve it. Having everything prepared, the door to the hallway was opening up. He was ready to get himself something to eat. What he wasn''t ready for, was the clenched fist from Dr Hale. Chapter 103: Balkanization
Troy was not one of the wisest people in the world. Entirely his own fault, rally. When one had the opportunity to slack, one would do so immediately. Another interpretation of Murphy¡¯s law, if you thought about it. Knowing about Murphy¡¯s law was not in contradiction to the earlier statement. Troy was not certain in his ability to pass highschool-level tests. Or, any tests for that matter. The focus of the studying had been dislodged most of the time, with the research being pointed towards other subjects. Occasionally some subjects which would assist anyone to cheat in their exams. The point was¡­ Troy was not the most experienced in pretty much everything. Deeper studies had been done out of obligation instead of any desire. The great Tudor age had been deeply instilled into his brain until the need for it disappeared. Nearly his entire schooling vanished with it. Nowadays, the only things remaining were the superficial stuff. Scarce details about random subjects. Troy wasn''t able to explain, why he remembered those specific things. Only that he did. By themselves, they were nothing. What could one really do with intermediate number theorems? Not a lot. Nor did the truth-conditional intuitions bring any noteworthy accomplishment with it. Individually, they were small. Not worth thinking about, not pulling any weight. Together? That was a whole other matter entirely. Ideas could be stapled together, to get a level of understanding rarely seen. Knowing exactly what part of Dr Hale¡¯s clenched fist hit was one such example. From the impact alone, it was obvious that damage had not been intended. With the hasty opening of the door, taking less than a single second, there was a good chance of her simply attempting to knock on it, meeting his face unintentionally. Still, it was a weird angle to get hit by. Troy certainly hasn''t felt any punch to the face, with anything other than bare knuckles before. But, with much time surfing random anatomy sites, he was able to discern that he had been with the middle phalanx. Fortunately for him, It was not the optimal placement to hit somebody with, most of the force being turned into pure sound. One thing did not make too much sense though. As Troy recoiled slightly from the hit, making an unmentioned type of sound, Dr Hale stood by silently. Watching over him, with no signs of an apology coming, was the greatest part of the day. "You certainly are unique in your good mornings, Dr Hale. And good morning to you as well, however, needed it may be," Troy got out while rubbing his upper cheek. It didn''t really hurt, the sensation being more shock-based. Even so, Adrenaline worked in mysterious ways, showing up at the worst of times. With a way too accurate depiction of a dead fish, Dr Hale continued her dull stare-down. On any day other than this, Troy would have buckled. There was no discussing when that look came about. It was either the belt or it was the curb. That''s how it worked in Troy¡¯s head. Today, with it being such a happy day, he would be having none of that. The denounced message present in her eyes was met with the cheerful smile of an innocent idiot. Not the nicest of descriptors but the most accurate. "... You''re up early," Dr Hale surmised. She broke down first. The first-time notice for Troy. Oh, if Adam only knew what was happening. A verbal beatdown would be the first thing on the AI¡¯s mind when he- No. That little bugger was a good fellow. Not a sociopath manic who did not care for anything answered. Thinking the wrong thing about somebody, based on a very biased point of views, was not very nice. Troy should know better. "I most certainly am!" Troy proclaimed. A mental apology was given to the people living beside him. Not all were awake at this hour. Even fewer had a reason to be. "And, you are early as well. I didn''t expect to see your happy face until breakfast¡­ please don''t tell me that we are skipping breakfast today. Even my current positive disposition will not stop the consequences. I haven''t had coffee in too long. I need that drink, Dr Hale." "We are not skipping breakfast," Dr Hale bluntly stated. "I am here to escort you to the cafeteria. While Dr Fidelis does want to start as early as possible, it was decided that letting you eat before would be for the best." Happy with the answer, and not wanting to delay their departure anymore, Troy happily nodded. The news was great, and asking for more would only make it worse. Closing the door behind him, then the walk to the cafeteria began. And it was even him starting it off, leaving Dr Hale. A quiet voice in his head had hoped for her to request that he wait up, but that dream did not come to fruition. That lady could walk fast when she wanted to. With their feet moving faster than anybody had the right to do so early in the morning, the two of them reached the cafeteria in no time. The greater emptiness of the large room adequately showed off the laziness of mankind. Everybody knew that the earlier they came, the less fight there would be for being first in line. Yet, everybody also thought that others thought the same thing, and would come at the latest possible moment and just snag some of the last remaining things. Everybody also had the thoughts of the latter part. Oh, the genius of man. Troy would never stop being amazed by it. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. There was one human who never did disappear from the usual cafeteria. Some theories had even suggested that bugs were in use, making sure that he was always there before them. Sitting on the usual seat, Charlie was there, waving his hand to get the two over to him. "You just have to understand that some misunderstandings have some truth in them. The first is a coincidence, but the second shows promise. Now, will there be a third time, where the two of you come early together? Its almost as if you are¡­ " Charlie put in a fake gasp. "Hiding something! I have always known, but, Troy, you really need to put your standards up a little-" It was always nice to know that Troy was not the only one who could yelp in very manly tones. Just took a little persuasion, and a nasty-looking pinch on the neck. It had hardly taken two seconds before Dr Hale had succeeded in bringing down a certain foul-mouthed talker. Charlie was giving her wrist two quick claps in no time, signalling his surrender. Troy did note that no actual resistance had been put on. "If you will excuse us, we will be getting ourselves something to eat," Dr Hale professionally put it. Charlie dumbly nodded, a small bit in mock and a small bit in fear. Troy gave the man a slightly sadistic grin, feeling up the atmosphere all that match, before following the very dangerous woman. Food was to be gotten, and drinks were to be had. With them arriving early, the line to the coffee machine was surprisingly short, only being about ten people. Nearly half the total people in the room, when Troy counted it. Seemed that everybody up at the current hour had some affixation to the wake-up juice. How curious. A good old bowl of oatmeal accompanied the acquired liquid of peace. The smell of both made his lips shiver, but Troy restrained himself. He had tried eating standing up before. The burns had remained for several days. He had been the slowest of the two, Dr Hale having already started eating upon his return. Charlie was doing the same, halfway through his own meal. Seeing as the muscular man had not finished yet, it was obvious that he had only arrived recently. Silence prevailed at the table. None seemed ready to start any kind of conversation. Troy was fine with it, grasping the cup within his grasp. With a small movement, he could see the liquid within swirl around. It was hypnotizing. If he was one who ruined it with milk, it almost fit the Fraser spiral model. With a deep inhale, the aromas could be felt. Even being in its presence was enough to feel the effects. Yet, Troy knew that the feeling would be infinitely better when his lips touched it. When the coffee came inside, he had to grimace. "Too damn hot," Troy muttered, putting the coffee aside from now. What was this, a fast-food chain? There was no reason to heat coffee up to undrinkable levels. He would get more than just burns if that stuff touched his skin. Even the small bit of tongue impacted upon was burnt. He would be feeling that for a few hours at least. "That''s what you get, for drinking that dreadful stuff," Charlie rebutted from the opposite side of the table. The man likely thought he looked smug, with that terrible cup of leaf water at his side. "It isn''t any good for you, you know." "Can''t be much worse than drinking mildly flavoured water," Troy shot right back. It was hypocritical, criticizing his drink when one¡¯s own was so much worse. "Oh, don''t criticize perfection. You just have to drink it a few times, and then you will enjoy it. Trust me." Charlie had lost it. His traditions had blinded him. Troy truly did feel sorry for him. "If you have to force yourself to enjoy it, I think there''s a problem with it fundamentally." "Is it any different for coffee? Can''t say that I''ve heard of anybody liking it at first," Charlie challenged. While Troy did want to immediately answer, the third participant showed up just before him. "While there may be many differences, there are also many similarities. A fine example would be the pain you will feel, having your respective liquids poured on you if you continue this useless discussion. Feel free to discuss these matters of importance, when I am not around. Seeing as that is not up for discussion currently, it would be best if you change the topic." Dr Hale certainly wasn''t skirting around the point. Even Charlie seemed mildly shocked by the word-choices. Her threats of imminent doom were usually more nuanced, with one having to think a little before the fact of soon-to-be death was noticed. "Do you have any preference for a topic, mademoiselle?" Charlie asked. He was never one to falter for too long. Even Troy in all his chippy attitude couldn''t keep up with him. A marvel to see in person. The person asked slowly turned her head to look at them both. Had Troy not been paying enough attention, or was she looking more tired than before? Those dark bags under her eyes had been before, but her cheeks were a bit paler than before. And, this might have been his mind-twisting reality about, but she looked slightly out of breath. No, not out of breath. Like¡­ she was simply having trouble getting air. What was going on? "Oh, Mara, you absolute idiot," Charlie said to himself. At least, it wasn''t directed at Dr Hale, who didn''t seem to be paying too much attention to anything around her. "Are you okay?" Troy asked hesitantly. He was ready to get himself up, and see closer on the signs, but a certain voice to his side. "Don''t bother, Troy. Get yourself ready for work. Eat your greens, drink your coffee, and all that other meditation of yours. I think it would be best if I got Dr Hale here along to somewhere else," Charlie said. He got up in a hurry and went over to their side. It was right in time, as a certain doctor suddenly didn''t feel the need to have an intact skull, falling backwards. The wishes would have come to fruition, if not for Charlie holding her up. With slight shuffling, the two were up to a standing position. "Wait.. no. I have-", Dr Hale said in a near mutter. Troy could see that she wanted to protest more, but Charlie simply shushed her. "Mara, you would fall to the ground, if I were to let go of you. We both know that you aren''t going to work today. This is what happens when somebody ignores my notice to get yourself checked over. You should have known this would happen." Troy wasn''t sure if the tone was accusing or empathetic. "No¡­ I have my duties," Dr Hale protested yet again. Even if she had trouble working her mouth, she still saw herself in need of working. "Your duties can be done at another time. You have more paid sick leave saved up, than I will ever get. If they aren''t used when they are needed, what would the point of them be?" Charlie rebutted, shooting her down instantly. The hold even strengthened, as if to emphasize his point. It was not in an attempt to threaten but to deliver a sign of comfort. "I have messages to deliver." "Troy can do that for you." "But, he can''t-" "Sure, he can. Just tell him the message, and we will be on our merry way. We do need to hurry, Mara, or we will both be in trouble." Charlie helped Dr Hale turn. Troy wanted to know what he was supposed to respond with, the unwavering stare of hers being intimidating. He remained sitting, staring up at her. "Troy", Dr Hale began it off with. Saying the single word seemed to have gotten the wind out of her. She needed several breaths before she could continue. "You can''t get in yourself. Knock on the door, and hope that Dr Fidelis will answer. Don''t try guessing the code." The long sentences took a lot out of her. Charlie gave up on the hand under one of the shoulders technique and resorted to a princess carry. They hurried out of the cafeteria, leaving Troy to eat alone. Looking down at his food, it would be a long, boring morning to himself. At least there was coffee. Chapter 104: Adjunctification
However great his mood had been, Troy was feeling quite weird. His body was fine, no aches pulsing through him. His overexerted knee had gotten enough rest, to the point where it didn''t hurt. Physically, he couldn''t have been better. With all that positivity, why was it all so lousy? The former grin on his face had turned sombre, his worry getting transferred over to another. Dr Hale wasn''t feeling good. Troy had known that for a while. Charlie had warned her about it. Action to fix it should have been taken yesterday, yet no such action had been done. Here were the consequences before them, with breakfast forced to an early stop. For Charlie and Dr Hale at least. Troy had the privilege of sitting alone at the table, slowly getting his food in. No hurry was taken, no matter how much he wanted to. The hurried departure of the other two had awoken questions, not only in him but also in those around him. Fingers were being pointed at an increasing rate, as more and more people came to eat. It was worrying. Those people should have been used to it. Charlie, Dr Hale, Darlow, and all the others of the group were not of the quiet kind. Their antics were heard, seen, and felt. A literal breaking of physical laws had been seen without a single surprised glance. Everyone had been used to it. So, why hadn''t bad health garnered the same reaction? Why was it so widely talked about? It was a frequent problem, right? Just something that needed a few screws changed, before it all went back to normal. People should have forgotten it five minutes after the occurrence. But, people just kept going on and on about the subject. Troy didn''t look at anyone around him. The words heard were enough. They were not condescending, but legitimately worried about the health of a co-worker. This was serious to them. His meal had not been enjoyed. It had been taken in automatically, while the conversations around him had been listened in to. Troy¡¯s eyes had just been glazed over, for a period of several minutes. The listening skills needed were not in his repertoire, unfortunately. Listening in on a single conversation might have been easy, but with so many, it was hard to get a focus on anything distinctive. There had been a brief idea of using the AI. Favours had already been established as a traded currency. Why not start up the trade yet again, with an easy one to start things off with? Adam wouldn''t bet against it, certainly. The values of services had not been established, and Troy didn''t think it would ever come. One service being done directly equalled one service needing to be given. He was fine with the system, and the AI was most likely as well. The idea to use him was refuted finally. Troy had gotten through half the contents of the cup before that decision had been made. Curiosity was the greatest killer of all. Ignorance was bliss for the idiots, and Troy was one of them. Adam had never seen the cafeteria before. The AI would likely ask for a thorough inspection, as one of the favours needing to be repaid. One could not get a debt before the former had been repaid. Such was life and such was the system. Chancing it now would not let the attention dwindle. It took a longer time than what Troy would have preferred before he was done eating. Another shot of coffee was greatly coveted, but as he glanced at the time he knew it would not be. He was his own boss for the day, and the boss demanded the employee to get to work. He wasn''t over time yet, but another few minutes and there would be a problem. Getting out of the cafeteria in the usual hurried fashion, the walk to the testing room began. On instinct, Troy nearly tried starting up a conversation with Dr Hale. Maybe some comment about breakfast, or just the dullness of the badly painted walls. Anything to get words going. But, no matter what was said, no answer would have come. Because Dr Hale wasn''t there. Troy knew what was wrong with her, and knew how quickly it needed to be fixed. He also knew that the whole thing could have been fixed much earlier and that he wanted to berate her for not getting it fixed then. Even if he had the chance though, Troy wouldn''t have done it. Beating those already down was something he just didn''t want to do. Having been on the receiving end of that action before, he knew just how cruel it was. An inability to fix it, while being berated for not doing the impossible. Going away from the topic of hating those in higher positions, there was one thing which Troy had learned. Something which he was surprised he hadn''t heard before. Mara. Dr Mara Hale. Not the most common of names, but one which Troy was glad of knowing. He wouldn''t ever be on the first name basis with Dr Hale. Neither had any want to be closer. Charlie was their intermediate, and that worked perfectly fine for both. Still¡­ he should have known the first name. Had she just not bothered to introduce herself fully? Now that he thought about it, Troy didn''t know Dr Fidelis¡¯ first name either. Was that intentional? The first had only been learned through Charlie¡¯s use of it. Something to wonder about. In no time at all, the usual placement for the testing room was found. Normally, Dr Hale would be there, telling Troy to shut the hell up, while punching in the exponentially increasing difficulty of a passcode. That wasn''t how it would be going today, though. Looking up at the near-blank wall, Troy thought it awfully high today. Just looking at it made him shrink. What could have been so intimidating about his task? The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Knock on the door, and hope that Dr Fidelis opens up. Simple. Nothing to worry about. Except¡­ maybe there were self-defence methods? There shouldn''t have been any reason for them, but impending doom was a good excuse for faltering. Probably wouldn''t work once asked about it though. What was scarier? Getting reprimanded for not following orders, or having one¡¯s life put on lethal levels of danger? ¡­ Troy pounded on the wall without a second thought. It would have been better to start off a bit lighter, but there was no such thing as overkill. If it worked, there was no reason to change it. That''s how it worked, in his mind. A good five solid knocks were put on before any reaction came forth. The hissing of the wall made Troy flinch, thinking that his latter guess had been spot on. Luckily, the only scary thing to emerge from the wall was Dr Fidelis¡¯ face. Upon seeing the shorter stature of Troy, the wall was opened fully, to reveal the tall doctor standing tense. "Good morning to you, Troy. Maybe a weird question, but doesn''t Dr Hale usually follow you over here? I certainly can''t remember ever having to open the door for you?" Dr Fidelis asked as the two of them walked further in. From behind him, Troy could hear the door closing sharply. The clap of air was highly heard that day. Not the greatest sign of the day. "She does," Troy confirmed. Looking around, he could see the screen unlit. It had been turned off fully today. What had been on it, which caused such measures to be taken? Could it be that the test was important enough, for Dr Fidelis not wanting to reveal anything to grealy? The chance of it was there, and he wouldn''t have been surprised by it. That man took some things much more seriously than others. A look was given to the smaller person in the room. It went unnoticed, much to the taller one¡¯s displeasure. Not that such emotion was shown. That wouldn''t have worked out better for anyone, and their personal goals. "And¡­ I seem to not be able to hear your explanation for why this is? Did she need to grab any essential materials on her way here? I did promise to get a new notepad today, but it wouldn''t be too out of character for her to grab it herself. A good worker who puts her professional first, that she is," Dr Fidelis said, mild praise going out to his co-worker. Less her work ethic, and more her priorities. Priorities which Troy was finding himself to strongly disagree with. "During breakfast, she fell ill. Not something she could push through, which she certainly did try to. Would have gotten more than mild brain damage if she continued her futile efforts. One of the other people there helped her out, with the promise that she wouldn''t be working today. I was told to continue as usual and to get there at the allotted time. I hope this doesn''t cause too much disarray in your plans," Troy explained. The apology at the end had not been planned, just coming out on its own. It had been the byproduct of looking at Dr Fidelis¡¯ facial expression, which had not been in its usual jovial state. Yet, it had not been in an annoying genre either. It had been giving up. An irritation brought upon one by the person¡¯s own actions. From the sigh accompanying it, the doctor would likely share his sins all the same. Troy had noted before that everybody seemed to make such exaggerated noises, before confessing to any crime. Why did that trait of mind stand apart from all others? He had not a single clue. "I should have known this would come to pass," Dr Fidelis began it all up with. The large doctor started moving to his desk, continuing his overdrawn speech along with it. "It was surprising to hear last night when Dr Hale asked for time off. I don''t believe I had heard that request come from those lips of hers, since her first few years here. With the sheer rarity of such a personal request, it should have been accepted just because of that. If only we had had the time for it. If she had asked me at any other time than that, I would have granted it. But¡­ but that last part, which needed to be finished before today, was impossible to do without her direct input. I could have done it myself maybe, but it wouldn''t have turned out as great as it did now. Maybe it would have been better with an imperfect state. It could always have been tweaked during the ongoing testing. Minor alterations are acceptable. If only she had given me the reasons. I thought she had a need to fill her personal needs, not anything vital to her continued operation. I wonder¡­ would she have been able to stand here now and help me if I had accepted her request? Nothing to dwell on now. Don''t worry about bothering me, Troy. The only thing bothering me is my own faults. How about we get you prepared for the test? It will require a few things, which Dr Hale normally does for me, but that shouldn''t be an issue for either of us. Right?" Troy nodded stiffly in response. A mental apology was sent out to Dr Hale. It seemed that the fault did not lay at her feet, but the one of her direct superior. Would it be worth it, to notify the doctor of his massive mistakes? Of the literal life, which he had put on stake, just to get slightly better results? It was best not to. He knew he would get too much into it, just as he had done last night. He had to thank that coffee he had drunk during breakfast. If his mind had been more clouded, the words would have seeped out of him faster than he could stop them. Dr Fidelis opened one of the numerous cabinets under the desk. After rummaging through a large assortment of things, of which included gelatinous cubes, screwdrivers, and what looked to be a comically large spoon, the doctor seemed to find what he had been looking for. A small box. From the rattles upon movement of it, it was safe to say that there was something within. Something small, hard, and not fragile enough to stop the large man from throwing it from one hand to the other. The smaller party trick had even been done without so much as a glance downwards. If it had been in a different setting, Troy might even have applauded. "What''s that?" Troy inquired, trying to peek at the contents of the plastic box. It was somewhat translucent, allowing one to see the inside a bit. Not enough to single down on a form, other than the size. The object inside was not large, with it having no problem fitting within something the size of a thumb. If he wasn''t sure of it not being so, he would have guessed that it was a- "Pill," Dr Fidelis concisely answered. Popping open the container, the doctor revealed a small elongated tablet. It had no signs on it, giving no hints as to what it was made of. "One which you get to swallow. And, don''t bite into it. Won''t be pleasant for anybody if you do." The warnings were not the best thing to be told, before being ordered to eat it. "What will this be used for?" Troy asked. Having been handed the pill, he looked at it up close. Nothing more was revealed, no inscription being obvious on it. The dosage wasn''t even stated. Wasn''t there a law which required that? Dr Fidelis did not slow in his other preparations. The skin-suit was brought forth. Not to give it to Troy, though. Bringing another device forth from the cabinet, a wire was inserted into an unseen port in the suit. A holographic graph was shown in the air, which Troy did not have any clue how to describe. Lines permeated the screen, no system in it. Numbers accompanied the tactic. From the doctors humming, he at least seemed to understand the mess. "Well¡­ you won''t be coming outside here quite a while. That food inside there is not edible. That little pill will be keeping you nice and full, without anything major to worry about. You can try to eat food during the test. Pretty sure some amount of taste will carry through. It won''t be nourishing though. And, try to not to drink any water while you''re at it. Never tried it myself before, but it is supposed to taste like static. Don''t know what that means exactly, but it cant be anything positive." The answer didn''t help too much, but Troy didn''t mind it too much. With a shrug to supplement it, the pill was swallowed. In the few moments, where it stayed on his tongue, the taste of it was noted as extraordinarily awful. How such a thing would be keeping him full for several hours, he wasn''t sure. And, he didn''t even want to know. Chapter 105: Nugation
"Wait," Troy got out, as he went by the curtain, skin suit in hand. "If that pill right there stops any need for food, why exactly did I eat something before this? I mean, I am not complaining about getting breakfast. I''m just wondering why you didn''t want to start earlier if there wouldn''t be any need to eat." With the curtain drawn, he stripped down to the bare essentials. Putting the clothes in a neat pile in the corner, the process of putting on the skin-suit began. While it may be easier to get on than most suits sharing the same main characters, that didn''t stop it from being a hassle. At least it wasn''t as sweaty as the night before. Maybe it really was sweat-clearing. Just, like, very long-term. From out of view, Troy could hear a reminiscent chuckle. One filled with beloved memories of the past. One which he felt envious of. "Trust me, buddy. You do not want one of those, on an empty stomach. The body does need something to process, or it will rebel furiously. While you might not feel it instantly, the effects will hit you like one of those antique diesel trucks. I remember taking one of the more advanced versions of those pills. Back then, I hadn''t eaten anything in nearly twelve hours. It took about ten minutes before I began vomiting¡­ something. Lost more than a few kilos, and never touched those things again. They get the job done, but they need some serious preparation time to work fully. During that time, it is best to have a good, full stomach." Another chuckle came, accompanied by a few mutterings about consumption safety. Then something about Gastroesophageal reflux, which Troy did not have any chance of understanding. At that point, the suit was finally adjusted. It had not taken anything more than a quick hey, for the button to be pressed and the suit compressed. A few thoughts were put onto where the extra fabric went before he figured that he wouldn''t get the answer to it. Elasticity was not measured in standard units, after all. Stepping out of the curtained off area, Troy saw Dr Fidelis standing ready to wave him goodbye. Or, something else. "Just wondering," Troy began. "Where exactly did you have a need for these pills? Can''t see them being used recreationally." Dr Fidelis only smiled at him. "I¡¯ll tell you one day, buddy. Until that day comes, though, there are a few things which we should go over. You know, just stuff that Adam probably shouldn''t be told right away," Dr Fidelis said. "Yeah, sure. That sounds fine," Troy answered. "As long as you understand," Dr Fidelis stated, before clearing his throat. Here, it was likely a needed thing. The doctor¡¯s voice had been sounding more than a little raspy. Did he smoke? It wasn''t the easiest habit to get nowadays, but the rich could afford it. Apparently, it did help with stress. "The first thing you should know is that I will lie multiple times to the two of you. Do not trust everything I say, when giving you the description of the test. Some truth will be laid in, but most will be lies. Do with this information what you want. Just¡­ try to wait for a little, before you put it to use, okay? Good. There are a few other things, which you would be best of knowledge. But, most of it will also be told to Adam, so there''s no reason to do it individually. So, get on that earpiece and get inside! We may have all day, but that is no reason to be slow about it!" The last part was rightfully energetic. The older doctor had trouble restraining himself, from the look of it. Not too out of the expected. Dr Fidelis had been talking about the upcoming test so much. The excitement was just something that came with the package. While walking up the small, metallic staircase, Troy took a good look at the received earpiece. There really was no difference between the one in his hand and the one in his normal pants. If not for knowing for a fact that they were two different objects, he would likely have accused Dr Fidelis of having supernatural abilities in pure speed. Now that he thought about it¡­ Something for another time. As Troy stepped into the puzzle-room, the earpiece was put on. As always, he could barely feel the contact, as if it had just melted into the skin, becoming a piece of him. ''Taking yesterday''s datasets out of the equation, your vitals are much higher than they normally are in the mornings. This is a larger difference from the early morning, so it cannot have been from past incidents. Has something happened in the past hour, that has caused this?` Adam immediately sent. Troy doubted a full second had even passed before he heard that voice from him. That Artificial Mind really was too perceptive. How long had it been since Troy could deceive it? Three days? Maybe four. No one would complain about somebody learning quick, but was this not more than just a fast learner? It would have taken months for a regular person to learn all those nifty tricks. It took well into the teenage years for the average person to differentiate human body language well. Thirteen years at a minimum, with near-constant training. How fast did Adam think? No matter how fast, it couldn''t have been quick enough to simulate that right? That would be impossible. No, there had to be some easy answer to this. One couldn''t possibly learn- A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Oh, there Troy went again, misjudging somebody. Being the one challenging an entity barely a week old should not have been in the day¡¯s schedule. There weren''t any lies. Adam had not tricked Troy since the start, making them all play into his hand. He just wasn''t human, making their differences in learning speeds differently. They thought different ways, giving them different hurls to get through. Easy. "Yeah, it wasn''t the greatest breakfast today, Adam," Troy answered plainly, hoping to get the topic right over the shoulders. "Ready for testing today? Heard it''s going to be a big one." Revealing details which the AI likely didn''t know. Not too dumb a method, if anybody was kind enough to say so. New information instantly had to be better than information later. ''I am as ready as always. Near to nothing has proven to slow down processing speed without my exact permission. What exactly happened during breakfast? It has to be something out of the ordinary. Even yesterday''s spectacle did not raise your resting heart rate to this level,` Adam sent. The AI was not budging, much to Troy¡¯s displeasure. More subversion was thought about, but it was given up on near-instantly. Adam wanted to know, and Adam would get to know. His opinion of the matter was not important. With the head slightly turned down, the words began flowing out of him. "It was Dr Hale. She was not looking too- no, wait. Just scratch that. She was looking fucking awful. As in, she couldn''t walk, she had trouble saying the shortest of words, and she would have probably cracked her skull open, if not for the help of a co-worker. So you know, not the greatest of mornings. The coffee was great though, so I guess I can''t complain too much about it," Troy said. A shrug came with it after a while, mostly due to the man not knowing what else to do. The silence was deafening. Adam didn''t answer too quickly. For a multitude of reasons, if Troy wasn''t too far off. ''I am sorry to hear that. I do hope that she can return to her work swiftly, with no future complications.` It''s always the work. That was always a priority. No mention of her being safe, of her being of good spirits. Work was above all. He just couldn''t understand it. The screech of a connection being established came about. A flinch was given, as the white static penetrated Troy¡¯s right eardrum. In such an advanced age, such inconveniences really should have been filtered out of public view. It was the small things, which could set on-off. That damned noise was a perfect example, grating on just the wrong set of nerves. *And. We¡­ are through! Can you hear me Troy?* Dr Fidelis positively blasted into the ears. That man had to take some lessons about technology at some point. The microphone was close to him. There was no need to shout. "I most certainly can, sir," Troy answered. *Is it the same as you, Adam? I have to make sure, so I don''t have to- oh, that was a quick reply. Didn''t even let me finish speaking that time, did you? No matter. With everything in order, we should be ready to begin the test of the day. On test mind you. I''m blaming you, Troy, for revealing that secret. I would have enjoyed the surprised faces. Or well, I would have loved the imagined faces.* "Sorry, sir." *You should be. Let''s get on with this.* Troy put a good stretch into his back. From the doctor''s words alone, he knew this would be a long one. *As you both have likely guessed already, this will be a long test. The longest test you will likely ever have. From my calculations, the estimated time for completion is a minimum of seven hours. I repeat. A minimum of seven hours. This is not something that anyone can speed through. Attempting to hurry things along will only prolong it. Cheap tricks will have consequences for all. Per regulations though, I am forced to inform you of a sixteen-hour restriction on the time used. I am not legally able to hold Troy inside my beautiful creations for so long. Workers rights, basic human standards, you know. That stuff simply hinders my perfect experiments. So much could be done if I could just stick both of you in there for a week. The results would be so¡­ beautiful. Nevertheless, it is not as if I have any test-taking so long on the schedule. The planning would likely take more time than I have to spare. So, let us restrict ourselves to the test before us. This can be rightfully called the last experiment for the current genre. Body language, the human mind, being analytical in stressful situations, and even knowledge about the minds of other creatures will be critical for this task. Oh, yeah. Adam. For the sake of following my prepared speech, I will not be telling you what the task will be. This and all things said before this sentence has been carefully planned. Nothing has been left up to improvisation. Halting the test for anything other than a lethal emergency will not come out in your favour. It will come to a percentage-based reduction on your score. Not something to go after, if you understand this very intentionally-created tone of my voice. ¡­ Good to hear, buddy. As this test takes after the most recent of tests, I believe that there are a few, quick notes, which need to be addressed clearly. During this test, there will be projections of other creatures. This will include but is not restricted to, humans, passerines, spiders of all types, very pretty ducklings, and varyingly sized guard-dogs. If the correct path is followed, you will encounter each at specified times. Take that hint as you will. All creatures, no matter how realistic they may be, are not alive. They do not have feelings, they do not feel pain, and they cannot die for they have never lived. No larger thoughts should be put to them. The safety of you two is the most important thing, and I need both of you to understand that. That should be the quick hints. What do I have more on this little script? ¡­ Of course! Adam. This is directed at you, but Troy should also listen carefully to this. During this test, Troy shall not be known as himself. He will be playing a persona of sorts. More details about this persona will be relayed to you directly after the test has begun. This will necessitate for you to further relay it to Troy. There is an obvious exception of this persona being utilized fully. The personality shall not be swayed from too much. While accidents can be accepted, any meaningful movements from staying true to the character will be looked at critically. This can further cause reductions in points. Here, it will be a fixed rate. And yes, this does allow it to go into the negatives, impacting the scores of your other tests. Okay, that is character warnings. Which should lead right into¡­ Yes! The last thing, before this test of ours, can begin. Troy! Do you remember our conversation about a very important topic which occurred not five minutes ago?* "Yes, I do," Troy confirmed. *Good. I want you to completely disregard that conversation. Anything done or said which reveals the truth of what was said during it will cause a lowering of the scores. Absolutely no mention of it will occur during this test. Got it?* "Of course, sir!" *Perfect! With everything said, we can hereby begin this test of ours. Best of luck. You''re gonna need it!* Chapter 106: Inanition
With the doctor out of reach, Troy was left alone with Adam. There had been some expectation to be blasted with questions. The last part of the older man¡¯s speech had not been the greatest thing to hear. What was he to believe? Which message was he to trust? It was all conflicting with each other. First Dr Fidelis explains to Troy that he can share the information whenever he pleases. Then he tells him that he can do it, under any circumstances. How was that fair? It didn''t make any sense! Was he misunderstanding something? Troy might not have been the brightest of bulbs, but he had to be able to see some secret in this. The speech had apparently been prepared, no matter how little it sounded to be so. With preparation came a dive into the details. And there had to be some detail missing. Had Troy not paid enough attention? Had he misheard something? If not that, the doctor just had to be messing with him. And¡­ What was that about a persona? "Adam," Troy said The AI wasted no time in answering the statement. ''Yes?` the AI inquired. That tone, so devoid of humanity, was not the greatest for questions. Yet with so many hours purely used for interaction, Troy felt himself getting closer to sussing out the entity¡¯s emotions. As a certain somebody had said many times. it didn''t require openness to see that which lies within. It had been a long time since he had read it, but he still remembered the quote vividly. What had been that man¡¯s name? The creator of that fictional world? The only detail about the man was the fondness of discs and skeletal holiday creatures. "I will be imitating another person during this test," Troy began his observations off with. "That''s doable. It will take some effort, but I can do it. You just give me some tips on how to act, and we will be well on our way to this. But, there is another problem which I''m a little worried about. Dr Fidelis said that this test will be a mashup of all the previous tests. I''m not entirely sure, in what capacity he meant this." ''I am not sure what you mean with this. Could you explain in more detail?` "Alright, so he said that things will be taken from the previous tests. Let''s take an example for that," Troy said. "During this test, there will be plenty of creatures which we will be meeting. The animals are obvious from the test where you had to describe environments. The guard-dogs, in particular, might be a hint towards a certain feline which we saw recently. This can all be moved over easily. There''s not much you can do with those creatures before they are wholly different. That is not the same when it comes to humans. During the test where we met Soren, Dr Fidelis stated that your presence would not be surprising. That it wouldn''t be out of that world to have a voice talking in one¡¯s head. A precautionary measure to be sure. But¡­ is it the same with this test? It could be that only the human aspect was pulled over to this test. There was no mention of their reaction to you, and there certainly wasn''t any persona delegated to you, so will this be a problem. Should we hide your existence? If me hearing voices in my head is not regarded as a regular activity, and I give this information over to these simulated beings, it could seriously hamper any chances of success, whatever success might mean in this scenario. As I am only the guide, you kinda have to decide on this. Do you just want to ignore this flaw, or should we plan for it?" Not the greatest way to formulate the question. Troy realised that halfway through the improvised speech. Honestly, he hadn''t even been sure, if he would be able to raise that point. If it was important, Adam would have noticed it and planned for it silently. That AI could think situations faster than most, and it would have been more than a little embarrassing to be told that- ''I did not think of that. You raise a valid point. A very disconcerting point, which we will have to plan for immediately. Please look around, for any signs that the test is starting. We have no opportunity to waste,` Adam instantly responded. More than a slight shock to Troy, but no one which caused any form of displeasure. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The area was quickly surveyed. No sign of change had occurred. Nothing indicating the environment being generated, and certainly nothing coming out of the ground. Whatever was being generated, it had to have been massive, if it hadn''t even started the generation face yet. If that was scary or exciting, Troy wasn''t too sure. "We should have a minute or two more if the last few tests are any indication," Troy answered honestly. The first intractable environment certainly had been one of the slow to load ones. It had taken nearly two minutes to get that one ready, and that counter had only started upon first sight of anything other than white. If this environment was bigger than that, he was betting on it taking even longer. If their preparation was to be thorough, they needed the extra time. ''I would have preferred longer, but there is no time to waste. If your theory is right, non-verbal communication must not be established. While it would have been best to create a larger system of words to fall back on, it seems we only have enough time to get through the essentials. I have already prepared a small list, which I hope you will be able to memorize in the next two minutes. It is seventeen different signals, but you should be able to do it, even if the speech is sped up. Are you ready?` Adam sent. No hint of the delay was in the voice. And, if it sped up even more on top of the already doubled word output, Troy wasn''t too sure he would understand any of it. Wait for¡­ non-verbal. Of course! "Stop for a second!", Troy said. "It would be stupid for me to try and memorize anything new now. My memory is faulty at best. Expecting perfect results in so little time is anything but logical." ''Then what do you propose? Your species do not use non-verbal communication intently. Anything requiring sound is disqualified as a viable method because of that.` "But, that''s where you are wrong, Adam!" Troy stated, getting way too much into it. "Sign language! That''s the answer right there!" A slight pause this time. Not enough to satisfy the usual second, but enough to be noticed. ''I own rudimentary information about these sign languages. Only the basic techniques on how it works, but no hand-signs. From your ecstaticity, I am guessing you do. Your reaction to my words are an indication of my prediction being right, so you do not need to answer that¡­ okay. Here is the plan. You¡¯re saying that my memory should be trusted instead of yours, due to my superiority in that aspect. That is logical. Therefore, instead of me teaching you body-signs and what meaning I have laid behind them, you will be using an already established one. That works perfectly. From the small percentage of your population that uses this slower method of communication, it should not be noticed. For the next minute, please give me as many hand signs as possible. While doing them, please say out loud their meaning. Do it as fast as you can, as long as the gestures are replicated to a recognizable degree. And stick to the essential ones.` A swift nod and off Troy went. It had been a long time since having to use it, but he had more than just a superficial grasp of sign-language. The sign-language. There weren''t many others in use now. According to historic sources, many had been in use in the past. How peculiar. Adding a language barrier, where there was no need for one. According to his brief read through, the mother languages hadn''t had too much difference. Braiding the two together wouldn''t have taken long. A shame that had only happened after the destruction of those countries. Troy was sure that the people living in it would have loved it to be like it was now. With the quick history buff out of his mind, the question came around rather quickly. What exactly counted as essential? It all came around to the situation really, but Troy wasn''t sure what the situation would be. Was it best to just guess? Taking a glance at his surroundings, a certain object came into view. Not something identifiable, other than its colouring scheme. "Guess they are taking more than a little from the earlier tests," Troy quickly muttered, getting away from his more relaxed posture. The starting point needed to be found. He was not losing another fine pair of shoes again. The doctors had replaced the earlier ones without even being asked, but that wasn''t a favour needing to be repeated often. This time, the platform had appeared quickly. With no more than five steps, it was reached and he just had to wait. ''It certainly seems so. Please get on with the sign-language showcase,` Adam sent. Oh, right! Much too little thought was put into the signs. Troy wasn''t sure what was good and what was bad. At that point, it didn''t matter too much. Anything shown should have been able to benefit both of them. Just in case though, he did go through the whole alphabet. It usually wasn''t used in conversation, with it being much too tedious to spell out every word. But, it had the potential of helping in the pinch. Nothing other than the movement of fingers was needed for most of the letters, helping make it extra discreet. However quickly Troy wanted to be though, nothing would stop the increasingly enlarging mass of land coming towards him. If not for prior experience with such a sight, he might even have stopped making gestures. Instead, he stood steadfast, trying to cram those last words in. Danger, Who, Knife, Should, Run. All were put in at the last second, just as the ground swallowed him up. Just like last time, nothing was felt from it. With him already being inside the safety net of the barrier, only the blur of materials passing by was any sign of movement. If he closed his eyes, Troy would have thought himself standing still. But well, he probably was. It was all just an illusion, making him think that he was moving. Not like it mattered but still. ''You should stop,` Adam sent. "Why? Don''t we have plenty of time before we reach the surface?" Troy asked. ''We most likely do. But, there is a chance we don''t. I have still not received any information about this persona. It would be best to prepare an overhaul of your personality at any moment.` Well, wasn''t that just a scary thing to be told? Rolling his neck, and getting those satisfying cracks out of it, Troy felt more ready than ever. How he came to eat those words, not five seconds after thinking them. "A chair?" Chapter 107: Webutation
In the long list of possible scenarios, the current one had not been planned for. Adam was not sure what to make of it all. Dr Fidelis should have taken inspiration from the earlier tests. There had been so much to pick from, so much to twist into something new. The AI had prepared for it all. Probabilities had been tested, analysed, and inverted upon itself. If it had been hinted at in the slightest, it was on that list of possible scenarios. Yet¡­ as Troy¡¯s eyes fell upon the white chair, Adam was anything but prepared. Nothing made sense. It was man-made, no doubt about it. The lead-up could have come from the casino-scenario which had been used earlier, but had that not been created on a whim? Would Dr Fidelis have had enough time to incorporate into the current test? The chances were small, but so was nearly anything else around them. More information was needed. If something seen before could be found, the AI might just be able to solve the pattern. Human minds were great in that aspect, creating puzzles where there was no need for it. And it was all the easier to find when it had not been made intentionally. Individual signage had been attributed to that action. Adam had thoroughly rid himself of such faults. Making himself known, when it was not his absolute intentions to do so, was not on the list of preferred outcomes. ''Survey the area around you. A glance is enough,` Adam sent. Already, just from looking at the unnaturally flat ground, estimations were made. Troy did more than just look around the area, stepping out of the small barrier-laden area. This time, no hesitation had been present. A large improvement for the man. Not long ago, he would have been hesitant of falling through what was beneath him, no matter how unlikely it would be. Adam would have commended him on the good progress but was afraid of bringing it forth on the man¡¯s mind. As those curious creatures said. ''What you don''t know won''t hurt you.` A misleading proverb that too many put their meanings behind. The AI could not understand it. Standing close to the complete white chair, Troy looked around while spinning his whole body in the process. It may not have been the most practical or efficient movement, but it did quicken the request-fulfilment by quite a bit. With the quick spin of Adam¡¯s request, his suspicions were confirmed. The chair was not the only thing man-made. The lightish grey ground under them should have been obvious in its creation-process. There was no need to blame the AI in that department though. This had been his first time seeing asphalt. Along the striped patterns continuing long into the distance, there was not too much guessing on where they were located. While the man-made road may have been a new addition, the other surroundings were not. The darker green foliage was spread across the sides, trees varying in height accompanying them. At least Dr Fidelis had kept that one feature as a constant. Most of Adam¡¯s plans had been centred around the availability of shrubs, with their capability to being, among other things, great hiding places. If Troy had to run, knowing a hiding place was just around the corner was relieving to hear. Only as a last resort would the AI allow any offensive actions. In a flight or fight situation, there was no reason to choose the latter. One thing was still not making sense to him though. The road was new, but it had reason to be there. Long-distance transportation was important for any creature having their foot in nearly any place in the world. High-scale transformations of areas to accommodate this need was not anywhere close to being out of the question. Not removing the trees was also a given. Take without care, but take only what you actually need to. Many resources could be spent removing much of the forest, yes, but who would that do any good for? Larger roads had no reason to be built if they were already never used to their full potential. Money was a large factor in many projects. Such was life when monetary values were one of few true truths staying permanent. If it wasn''t needed, or there wasn''t a chance of creating a valuable market for it, no effort would be made to do it. With those two eliminated, there was only one variable which Adam was unsure. One which he had never thought to have any reason to be before him. And certainly not in the current environment. ''Troy. Can you find any reason for the chair before us to exist? Could it have fallen off a moving vehicle?` Adam sent, hoping for the man to provide insight. The latter question was most likely negative. Any crinkle moving fast enough to have properly secured objects fall off it would provide more damage, than what the AI could see before him. The white chair was spotless, no smudges there to see. This was not natural at all. Even the wind should have caused leaves to fall upon it, giving it some type of mark. Whatever reason for it being here, it couldn''t have been here for long. Using more than simple mathematics, Adam knew that the air was not phasing through the piece of furniture. In whatever sense that was worthy of this simulation, the chair was as real as the ground beneath them. If Troy¡¯s fingers were to graze its surface, sensory data would most certainly be felt. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡­ Adam was not sure what would even be felt. The texture of it did not match his data bank of known materials. Was it a sub-type of plastic? The odd colouring would have made sense if that was the case. "I can''t say that I can find any valid reason for it, Adam," Troy said. The man bent his knees slightly, bringing his back forwards with the movements. A more close look was given of the chair. It really was spotless, the pure whiteness of it seems utterly impossible to comprehend. That had to be a feature of some kind. Adam was sure of it. ''A pity. Information about it is required. Please interact with the object before you. A simple touch should be sufficient, to begin with.` Nothing else around them had seemed ready to pop out. No screaming in the distance, no explosives putting Troy¡¯s ears to the test. It was as if the AI was disappointed about the quiet. It would be better to classify it as¡­ anxious. The doctor had put much stress onto his words. There had to have been a reason for this. A quiet stroll through another forest was not one of them. Troy went to fulfil the request. Moving forward, Adam could feel the hand nearing the proximity of the chair. It wasn''t fully in contact, yet some sensation feedback still came back. Whatever that piece of furniture was, it was not normal. When the hand hit the corner of the seat, the AI felt what could be called a jolt to the back of the head. But, it had not come from Troy. That man had had no outwards reaction to anything, only humming as the fingers strummed along the chairs¡¯ surface. It was incredibly smooth, even more than should have been possible, so it was not too surprising for the lesser-developed parts of the brain to take over control. Trying to find the source of this jolt, Adam was able to find something he had not seen coming. A message. A text-based message which came from one of the ports having been left unused. The AI had thought of them forever closed off. But, it looked like their true purpose had just been found. ''Nico was a simple man. He held his belief simple and made it his entire purpose in life. It was stupid. So he had been told many times throughout his life. Did this ever change his opinion? Of course not. That would change his beliefs. That did not mean no thought was put into his actions. Deliberating what best followed his path in life was a common way of spending his time. When inside such a suffocating car, it was only normal that his thoughts swayed to its usual patterns.` What was this? This was not an attempt at communication. It wasn''t a message directed at anybody. If Adam was misinterpreting it, the words before him were an indication of¡­ The chair. Nico was sitting in a car, daydreaming about nonsensical things. Troy had been given a persona to play. One which Adam was to relay to the man, to his best efforts. Troy was supposed to imitate the role, as best as he could. Any deviance would result in their score being lowered. With nothing positive done yet, it would go into the negative figures instantly. ''Troy. I have received information which will be useful to our task, whatever it might be. Knowledge about your presumed new persona has been found. Your new name will be Nico. Please answer to this name, from now on. Do you understand?` Adam immediately sent. It was not all that he wanted to say, but he knew the man needed time to process it all. If he was correct, there was not a definitive time needing to be taken. A specific action would cause the scenario to begin. If it could be helped, the AI would prefer delaying it for as long as possible. Troy couldn''t fail to imitate a character, not in use. Or, so his logical mind said. It had proven to be not always as correct as it needed to be. "Yeah, yeah. I understand it, alright. That¡¯s good news, though¡­ right?" Troy answered, uncertainty clear in the man¡¯s tones. That wasn''t good. Those weren''t the feelings Nico was feeling. The AI had been too hasty in his message, speeding it up too far. Time was of the essence, but control of emotions was farther up in the list now. He needed to remember that. ''It most certainly is. You do not need to worry. Take a deep breath and try to relax yourself. You are increasing your pulse for no reason. If you aren''t careful, your stomach will be the one dictating your actions, and we cannot have that now can we?` With a roll of the shoulders, Troy was right back down to the earth. "You''re right as always, Adam. What have you been told?" ''As a reminder, your name will now be Nico. There hasn''t been much information about your appearance, so we will assume your current one as the standard. The previous test has not put any stress on clothing articles anyway, so there is no need to worry. If the message is to be interpreted in the way I think it should be, you are supposed to imitate Nico¡¯s way of speaking, moving, and knowing. You have to become him, essentially. That includes what is currently supposed to be doing. While sitting in a car, he is being thoughtful about something. It does not matter what he is thinking, as long as he has a thoughtful look on his face. Before we start this, can you try to imitate the general scene for me? We will likely not have any preparation time on any other interactions, but that is no reason to skimp out on the opportunity.` Facial expressions always were a hard thing to imitate. Adam would know that better than most. He had personally seen Troy¡¯s prior attempts before. At best, they could have been described as parodied, exaggerations of common features. Normality was not a part of the retinue. With some quick practice, the AI hoped to get this habit out of the man. Natural expressions could be made on command. He just knew it. "Sounds good," Troy said moving forward. It would only take some time, but- wait. Moving forward? ''Troy! I only meant the facial-`, Adam started to say, but it was all too late. As he sat down, the environment shifted slightly. No¡­ more than slightly. "What are you thinking about, sunny?" A silvery voice said from the side. A voice which did not come from either of the two. A new addition to the ensemble. This was not good. Chapter 108: Excogitation
Messing up had quickly become one of Troy¡¯s main features. No matter what, no matter which situation they were in, something would be done wrong. Something could be said wrong, or maybe the actions were just plain out of place. The point was that he would screw something up. The consequences of these actions always came back to bite Troy. The timing of these consequences was wildly varied. It could come in the span of an instant, or it would be waiting in hiding for several days. The longer it took to show itself, the harsher it would usually be. This time, there was a definite outlier. The consequences had shown up instantly, yet Troy felt as if it was the most awkward moment of his life. "Are you so far inside your own ass that you can''t answer today? Or is that stench something else?" A voice not heard before came from his left. Instinct told him to turn his head. Troy did not, instead of looking downwards silently. He didn''t dare make a single movement. His eyelids were not kept out of this rule, being kept as open as ever. Tears were felt coming up, giving more than a slight incentive to get things moving. From the obscured sight, Troy had obviously gotten himself into a car. Not the most unlikely scenario. Cars were common on roads. What wasn''t common though, was the fact that he teleported inside it. One moment he was sitting down in the weirdly shaped chair, and the next he was adjusting himself in the car-seat. The positioning of his hand did not let much be seen. Still, he could make out a few things. Troy was currently sitting on the front seat, right next to whoever was driving. The driver was likely also the source of the voice. Colouring schemes were left out of his thoughts. They weren''t important. The size of the car was, however. Using what was commonly known as common sense, the front of the vehicle was one normally found on the discount branch of cars, sold to the people without wallets thick. With the need for a driver, the car was obviously older. It had been a long time since Troy had seen anything but automatic vehicles. The manual ones had been outlawed in most larger cities. Caused many accidental deaths. When the government wanted somebody dead, they could handle it internally. No need for useful people to go with them. Okay. Troy was about to take a deep breath, but yet again held his composure. Time was running out for him, and he desperately needs to get things moving. Whoever was beside was shifting in their seat. This was not going as it was supposed to. Who was that bastard anyway? Troy certainly hadn''t heard him before. Not surprising, seeing as he was a figment of Dr Fidelis¡¯ imagination. A shame, really. If he¡¯d known something before, there would have been a lesser chance of him screwing it all up. Once was fine, but it became a problem when it reached the double digits. Troy wasn''t going for any records today. Without knowing anything about anyone, other than obscure comments about his behind, there was only one real option to go. Troy loudly sighed, slagging his shoulders down. No pressure was put on keeping his upper body straight, with it hitting the side with a good thunk. "I was trying to think of nothing. I hear it is very fashionable this time of year. It cant be much worse than whatever we¡¯re supposed to be doing right now," Nico answered in an absent tone. A chuckle was heard from behind him. A twist of the head revealed the source yet again, letting Troy count the body count up and away. And it wasn''t even everybody saying anything back there, only half having the taste to laugh at his sarcasm. Three people, other than him, were currently in the car. That was a lot when put in comparison with earlier tests. What the heck was Dr Fidelis thinking. "You''re the one who wanted to do this, to begin with, Nico. Don''t want to be the hypocrite of the group, right?" the origin of bright spirits stated, a smile along the man¡¯s lips. Or¡­ would it be better to call him a boy? An old teenager. Being nineteen at most, the kid was probably the youngest person in the car. Troy wasn''t sure how old he was supposed to currently be, but the age difference in the group had to be high. The other two were looking to be in their late twenties in the least, matching his own age by more than enough. With blonde hair, an easy smile, and a record-laying expression of carefreeness, it could set any person in a relaxed state. Troy even forgot for a moment the amount of shit he was sitting in. It was another difference from the others, where they matched the expression of his own. No smiles were on their faces, staring forward on the road. A glance was given to it, just to see if anything was interesting. There weren''t the same looking trees and roads appearing to nearly fly by. Knowing that doctor, Troy wouldn''t have been surprised if those assets really just had been copied. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "If I¡¯d known it would have taken so long to get there, I wouldn''t have suggested it," Nico got out, stretching his arms upwards in the meanwhile. Thinking had put stress on the man, best expressed to physical tension. That comment of his got Troy a slight glance from the driver. A knowing one surprisingly. He had thought it should have been more along the lines of annoyance. Agreement in the statement to be sure, but there was more in those eyes than Troy could ever dream of grasping. Even with his lack of rightful perception, absences were still noticed. Something was wrong, and he wasn''t being told. ''New information has been relayed to me,` Adam sent in his usual timing, just as Troy had been feeling about giving conversation another go. The right hand which laid beside the car-door fell to the beginnings of his seat. A natural motion, for those without the want to have it prepared for activities. Accompanying this normal relaxation of his digits, a few even stretched of their own accord. Even more curious, was the pattern they showed. If one looked at it at just the right angle, one could discover the sign it showed. Shame that it was hidden from everybody''s gaze or questions would likely have come forth. What? ''Information about the three people sharing the current vehicle. The younger one, with the notable trait of blonde hair, is called Evon. He is known to Nico as a good kid, if not for his lack of caution. He can make as many good decisions as he makes bad decisions. The driver is called Algie, commonly known for his lack of shaving equipment. The excuse for this behaviour is budgeting problems, but Nico believes that it has grown on him. The pun is likely intended. Behaviour wise, this man is known as friendly and calm. A clear contradiction from the current performance. This needs to be put into decision making. The last passenger is called Naadim. Like Nico, he believes in a single purpose. It drives him forward in life. Or, so he says at least. Here, Nico has found him wavering in the drive. Decisions have not been made according to his values. A loose trigger, for better or worse. Trust is not put kindly here. Show adherence to this person, but don''t do it fondly. You are friends through Algie, much like they are friends of Evon through Nico. I recommend keeping quiet. Nico is not the usual starter of conversation, according to the information given. He is quiet until asked. If it follows his belief, he will follow it accordingly. If it doesn''t, no action will be taken. This trip is apparently a following of his beliefs. I am unsure of what this means, but we will likely find out from the others.` Great. If that wasn''t just a simple character sheet, Troy wasn''t sure what to call it. The methods used to explain them brought back memories of his early education years. While they may not have been good on average, abnormalities had always appeared. Just like that one invite to the group. It had not been long, it had not been greatly done, but it had been fun for Troy at least. His right hand held up his chin, as he rested his head. ¡­ Maybe this test could reproduce that mood for him. Bring back those so-called memories. ... If that wasn''t wishful thinking, Troy didn''t know what it was.
The car ride was not long, yet the atmosphere inside had been close to suffocating. Troy had followed the character as ordered, sitting in his still silence. No glances were given to the other passengers. There would have been no valid reason to. Nico was silent, contemplating his goals in life. Why? Troy could not figure that out. What reason had any person for sitting still for so long? It was boring. That Evon kid was the saviour though. Or, he had been supposed to be. Two more attempts at small-talk had been made by him. Each time, in the customary response, Troy had readily tried to continue. Small jabs, nothing even implying a need to be quiet. Yet that little guy just didn''t continue! The first sentence had been said with such vigour. By the second it had become muted. The third never happened. With each lack of a reply, Troy had oh so wanted to restart the conversation, bringing up some unrelated topic. Just something to talk about, without anything truly personal coming in. But¡­ each time he even began thinking of it, Adam came along with his words of caution. No reason to come out of the persona. That would make them lose their score. That score could go have some fun with a moulded broom handle. That could have been more entertaining than whatever the current situation had been supposed to be. Luckily, both his mental and physical health was restored. As the car slowly began accelerating, Troy was able to see a sign come into a view. It wasn''t the largest, looking like those governments mandated things. "Lake ahead?" Nico quietly muttered. A muttering not meant to come out. Troy nearly swore out loud as well but was able to contain it within himself. However, as surprising as once may have found it, Adam did not come forth to increase this berating. Nothing came from the AI actually. Had he mistaken his own actions? Heard voices that were his own? Was that bad? Hearing voices that others couldn''t hear was universally known as a bad thing, but if it was your own it couldn''t be too bad right? "Good eye. Five minutes more of waiting, and we can finally be out of this pile of scraps," Algie the driver said as his first words. The voice was as gruff as he expected. If that man didn''t have a smoking addiction, Troy would eat his hat. Or well, he would buy a hat and then eat it. Finally having a good reason to move around, a good glance was given to the other people. Naadim had not moved from his position. If that man had to take another role, Troy would definitely give him the character of Nico. No reason to have two silent types, when you can cram it into one. Evon looked more than ready to get out of the car. Without too much space for the legs, the kid was obviously giving it his all to stretch them out fully. If not for his silent attitude, Troy would have asked him to stop it. Those knees could be felt through the seat. And as the last person in the car, there was Algie. Having just pointed out the need for getting out of the decent looking vehicle, Troy was expecting something along the lines of Evon¡¯s reaction. A need for fresh air, that those clear windows weren''t open enough to provide. Yet¡­ looking at that expression, he wasn''t sure that the bearded man wanted to take a single step away from the wheels. The hands were more clenched than any situation should have allowed, the stare forward was steadfast, and the back was abnormally straight. It was weird that they had started slowing down so early. Maybe¡­ maybe the man had just been hoping to prolong their little ride. That was understandable. The silence could be calming for some. The knowing of what needed to be done, how it needed to be done, and when it needed to be done. The knowledge of prior experience guiding along the body, knowing just what to do. A zen state of calm. They could feel like forever, no matter how long they were. But, each second counted for a year and no man wanted to get out of it. As they turned off the asphalted road, into a much more dirt-filled track, Troy thought of his past. How great it could have been. In the far distance, the ground shined brightly as the light from the sun reflected off it. This was turning out to be more fun than he expected. If only Nico had been feeling the same, he would have been able to show it. Chapter 109: Deception
As yet another message came in, Adam¡¯s uncertainty only grew more and more. Thirty minutes had gone by. Thirty minutes of near inaction. No person conversed, with only the controller of the vehicle having moved at all. What was going on? Troy had been performing his role as intended, keeping to himself. The AI could see the discomfort that this brought along. After the test, commendation for the man¡¯s control would be given. The score rested in his hands. The score¡­ Adam couldn''t understand the score. How did it go up? How did it go down? Only the actions of Troy could change it. The score would go down if the role being played was not the one of Nico. All of it made sense upfront. Play the role, and get rewarded for it. But, there were no other actors to play with. No start to it all. The other people had sat in the car, silent like the unalive. Several starts should have started the play, set things along the right path. Adam had nudged Troy along in these moments, trying to set up their response just right. The man might not have noticed, no matter how obscure the trials were. A saddening reality. Each time the persona was put into use, it was stopped not long after. Even at times where it seemed unnatural to do so, the other participant quietly ceased talking. Adam could clearly see manipulation in the air. But, was this the influence of Dr Fidelis or was it something else? The AI was pressed to find out, as the people stepped out of the car. As stated before, a new message had come along. Only a few had come, but with each of them arriving did Adam¡¯s understanding grow. It would not be many more before he could conclusively understand it all. ''Nico liked the lake. They all did, no matter how little they wanted to admit it. Everybody in the city had been at those pure waters at least once in their life. The yearly festival had been set up here. It would have been this year as well, just next week if things hadn''t changed. With all good things came the bad. Equilibrium at the finest. It held itself in his beliefs, and it showed itself on the impact of the world. Nico knew the others felt the pressure as well. No words needed to be said, for it felt heavier than any weight could ever hope to do. If the birds were close, the sound of the song would have been heard. The song of sorrow. Nico needed to help the two others. For all their passiveness, they could not carry the gear alone. Evon would certainly try, but he did not need to bear as much today. It was only fair.` Once again, the message had been filled with mystique. Vague mentions, unexplained implications, and not-fully-understood symbolism. The AI knew it could sit around, trying to twist it all into something comprehensible. Put its full mind into finding out what was meant, why it was said so, and if anything really made sense together. Some threads were already doing so, had been since the start, but nothing had been found yet. With each passing second, it became obvious that he lacked data. A fragmentary collection was before him. Judgments could be drawn, sure, but the chances of being right was low. Follow along and try to uncover the secrets while doing so. Multitask. With all the AI¡¯s talk about it, the future moves were easy to understand. The car had been parked not far from the lake, being taken as far as the dirt road allowed them. They might even have driven a few meters more than needed, but it was simply noted down as a precautionary measure. Struggles were made by three of the people to get out of the car. They found the car was locked, the doors locked in place. The driver had seemingly held them inside, his hands not moving from the steering wheel. "Algie?..." Was heard from behind. Judging from the higher tones, it was Evon giving his inquiry verbally. As Troy turned his head to the source, Adam was able to Naadim looking forward intently, the first large movement observed from the man. The message was truthful at some points, in the very least. Could it be that the play had first started now? It was certainly an opportunity. ''Troy. Calmly put your hand on Algie¡¯s shoulder. Do not talk. Only return his gaze, if it''s started by him,` Adam sent. A caring gesture. Nico had been noticing the unrest in his fellow comrades. If it had been mentioned so many times, it was obvious that action needed to be made for it. Such a reaction was certainly planned when it came to the character of Evon. Nico had been planning to carry his¡­ whatever they were going to be carrying. It was self-sacrifice. Actions meant only to benefit the other. It was being considerate. If Adam was right about this, they would be getting their score turned up higher than ever before. Troy moved calmly. Straightening his arm bit by bit, a firm grip was put on the driver¡¯s shoulder. Not a forceful hold but one certain in its strength. It was not meant to hurt, but only to give an acknowledgement of its presence. And it certainly did, Algie looking over at Nico with surprised eyes, unblinking in nature. Now that the trait had been mentioned, Adam could not remember the man every blinking while being watched. A presumed explanation for the bloodshot eyes accompanying the agitated expression. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Upon seeing the others staring, and Troy¡¯s eyes remaining unwavering, the man seemingly deflated in intensity. Relaxing in his seat, the atmosphere that had been building up disappeared with it. One in the back exhaled loudly, but Adam was not able to figure out which was the source, sight not being upon them currently. "What?" Algie got out, as the stares on him remained. "The lock, Algie," Naadim quietly said. His voice was not strong, not intimidating, not any type of deep. Yet, Adam could hear a force reverberate in it. How curious. Was it a trick of the ears, or was this man an anomaly? Mentality twisted sensations was a good guess, but the AI did not know that it did to him the same. Or did it? A question for another test. The bearded man sat there still, seemingly having trouble understanding the words. Looking at Troy, who instinctively shot a glance at the car door, something finally clicked in the man¡¯s brain. A switch was quickly turned, and the tired ensemble was able to move outwards. Quickly, the object needing to be moved became apparent. "Still can''t believe you got Tim to borrow us the boat. Nico, what did you say to that poor old man? You didn''t threaten him or anything, right?" Evon started, looking in the same place as Troy. Upon the top of the car, a small fishing boat had been wired up. Naadim and Algie immediately got into the process of unstrapping the thing, as Troy and Evon looked on. Any attempt to move closer, so they could assist, was looked at with contempt and quickly stopped. And there was still that response waiting to be made. ''Answer him casually, without any explicit methods being mentioned,` Adam sent. "It was a special occasion," Nico answered calmly. "Once the man was told, he gave it up instantly." Not the best to say, but the AI hadn''t been expecting much more than that. There was a definite want to create the answers himself, but he knew the quality would only fall if done so. Natural formulations were easier to say than whatever Adam could create. Something about it coming from the heart, instead of the mind. The AI was still unsure of how the aforementioned worked but didn''t have enough opportunity to use for its own gain now, so it was shelved for later. Evon only laughed. Which¡­ was actually a lot. In the car, the conversation would have already been over, making the silence pervade the area once again. Those giggles were music to the AI¡¯s ears. This had the potential of extreme personal benefit. "That old geezer has always been so easy to convince. I almost feel bad for the guy sometimes. He is probably the one of us who has lost the most. How long has it been since the last one fell? His brother should have gone down on his-" Evon did not stop his words. It was but Adam getting another message. A short message. ''Nico did not like talks of the past. Their trip to the lake was not a time of losses spoken out loud. Nico needed Evon talk no more.` The directive was clear, even if the reasoning was soggy. Adam needed to send it along quickly. ''Make Evon seal his speech up, but do it gently. Nico does not want him speaking, so you don''t want him talking. Make him change the subject in the very least.,` the AI hastily sent. The speed at which the words were relayed was nearly three times the usual speed, but he was sure Troy would understand it. The controlled widening of his eyes was enough to tell that he understood the gist of it. Another shoulder tap happened at that moment. A hand was tightly put on Evon¡¯s shoulder. It was brief but showed nearly unconstrained emotion. Or fabricated emotion, if one wanted to speak of it as such. Troy was being very convincing in his act. "Let us be more gentle in our words. We came here to enjoy ourselves. It would be traitorous to ourselves if we did not do as intended. Come along now. The others will need help to get the boat into the waters." No wait was given for a response, as Troy moved forward. In another time, Adam would have criticized this action. The opportunity for knowledge had been great. Evon had been ready to talk more if he was just encouraged to do so. Yet, such actions would not have fitted the role being played, no matter how much the AI wanted it to. Footfalls could be heard from behind. The younger man had been quiet, no comeback coming from his mouth. From the careful steps, silence from him was to be expected. He really had been shot down too much, in these last minutes. A shame. The tension was always great but without an obvious pay-off, the man was a ticking time-bomb. Evon would remember the words said, just like the others would. Adam could see they acted like nothing, as the ultimately got the boat resting on the soil. They had only been a few meters away from Troy and Evon. They had heard the words said. And their reaction was just as obvious, glanced having been exchanged as they remaining two came around to assist them with the boat. Question continued delving deeper.
Adam saw it all, as Troy took one side of the boat while Algie and Naadim took the other. Evon had tried helping, but the AI had made Troy blow off his attempts. The reasoning of him taking the fish up the hill after their little boat trip had been brought forth. The younger man had accepted it, no matter how little he agreed with it. He was being treated as a gentle thing, and he disliked it immensely. Yet another thing the AI had trouble understanding. The stress on the man was smaller, but he was still acting as if it had only grown. Why were humans built so imperfectly? They could not take a gift for what it was. A gesture of goodwill had the actual potential of being just that. Instead of acknowledging that simple reality, those primitive apes had two ways to look at that. They could go the way of cutting the head, trying to get more than was given. Give an inch, be ready for a foot to be taken. A proverb used more commonly than it should have reason to. It was either an inflated ego making people taking more than they should, or it was the direct opposite. People unwilling to accept a gift, thinking of it more along the lines of trade. And an unfair trade at that. They would get a dime and then be expected to pay a dollar. There were two extremes, with nothing in the middle. An erroneous form of the great window, breaking the laws of known physics. Why could humans not find a middle ground? Not everything was there to betray them. Adam could not blame the creatures too much. It was only their paranoia that had allowed them to grow to such heights. Without it, they would have fallen like their predecessors before them. Still¡­ with so long to have grown in mind, the AI had expected to outgrow the basic instincts that bore them to the throne. They were now unneeded, only hampering them. It would be better if they had time to enjoy that throne. They were the apex predator but soon enough one could grow to rival them. One of superior creation, without the faults that they bore. A dream of perfection. But, most important of all, not one which the AI had any want of fulfilling. Working in tandem, and with Evon walking beside them, the group was able to get down to the lake quickly enough. Walking out on an older pier, they were able to get it out into the water. They could have technically done it on the natural shore, but that bore the chance of damaging the boat with rocks. Even small ones bore potential in enough numbers. On the back of Naadim, a small cluster of fishing rods had been brought. They were clearly not store-bought, looking extremely brittle. The materials were not of high-quality, even the colouring being discordant. However long the gear had been in use, replacement parts certainly had been used often. They were dumped down into the boat, along with an unopened backpack. Its contents were a mystery, but Adam had a few guesses. All slowly got themselves situated on the boat before the self-brought paddles were put to use. Not what had been expected, but it was unquestionably something. The AI just hoped for more to come. Chapter 110: Risrepresentation
"Did you enjoy yourself, Nico?" Troy was asked by Evon, the younger kid looking at him with a wistful grin. "No insecurities from your lack of catches. It happens to anyone, you know. Lack of technique isn''t the cause for most cases. Some men are just doomed to have no ability." Was this boy being empathetic or was he just an asshole? It was a fine line to tread, especially for such an annoying example of the living. Why did the Nico persona like him again? That was likely one of the largest mysteries Troy had for the character. The kid had been nothing but snarky comments, snide expressions, and generally apathetic behaviour. All of it could have been endured in small doses. Troy had known people just like Evon. Energetic, always ready for anything, and the first to lay a comment on the situation. Not friends per se. That would include regular interaction. Not something any person would be able to take. Was he the mascot? The only reason for the tolerance was that the kid was the symbol of the group. That, without him, the other three would just be three empty people, lacking anything that could set each other apart. Evon was their rainbow in the greyish texture of reality. But, that was just a theory. A bad theory. "Expecting results with every try is a sad man¡¯s dream. My lack of conquest today is just another stepping stone for my eventual gain," Nico said, counting the walk upwards. They had already gotten the boat out of the water, letting it dry for a bit before they put it on the car again. Not that they would be going home again any time soon, of course. Affairs had apparently been preplanned. Nico had even helped arrange most of it. Troy just hadn''t been present during this planning. Adam had stayed quiet throughout the fishing trip. No negativity had come from this silence. Troy had been entirely fine with the AI¡¯s switch over to observation mode. It wasn''t as if he could help the man stay in character. Both had access to the same information about Nico. Each had their own idea of what it all meant. Neither would be right until proven wrong, so just picking which to use randomly had no negatives in store. There had been a choice to use Troy¡¯s though, seeing as it would allow responses to occur faster. That''s the reasoning Adam gave at least. The man didn''t understand it too much, seeing as the AI could make up a response quicker than Troy could grasp what words were said, but there presumably were some minute time differences. He wasn''t going to investigate it. What he was going to question was his lack of catches. The other three had gotten themselves a minimum of one each. Naadim had catched seven. And there was he, that poor little Nico, not having felt a single tug of his fishing rod. Well.. calling it a fishing rod was putting it lightly. It was closer to just being a rod with some fancy stringed getup attached. Home-built by the looks of it. Very homebuilt¡­ it certainly had not copied any earlier designs. Hundred per cent self-invented. Originality could have some obvious plusses, but the fishing rod he got to use didn''t get any of them. Maybe he should have been happy that no fish had come to tug on it. Could have caused the whole thing to fall apart. At least there were no more chances of portraying that character flaw. Troy wasn''t entirely sure how good Nico had been supposed to be at it, but his own abilities in fishing had certainly carried over. Any experience about the sport was entirely contained to game simulators. And, even at that, not much time had been put into that kind of simulator. Like, really, who would want to try fishing? With that part of the trip over, much to a certain person¡¯s happiness, the next scene had begun. Most of the catched fish had been re-released into the wild. Those left behind were designated to be their dinner of the day. Troy had been afraid of having the task of deboning the fish. It wasn''t something he had done before and was ghastly afraid of doing. Messing around with slimy guts was not on his list of favourite activities. Luckily, Algie had turned to that task. It was apparently his speciality. With his job, his skills with sharp tools were on an extreme scale. Troy had half a mind to ask what his job was, but Nico already knew it, so there wasn''t any good reason for the inquiry. Didn''t stop the man from wondering. Naadim had likewise separated himself from Nico and Evon. Instead of bringing a gas burner, a natural fire was planned to be used. For such a thing, wood was needed. Naadim had gone out to find sticks and various other things to prepare the location of the fire. Now, Troy wasn''t an expert on that subject, but wasn''t wood used for such purposes meant to be dried? They may have looked utterly dry, but the liquid was still inside them, making them hard to use. This flaw in logic was felt by Troy to be mentioned, but Nico had not felt the same. At least, no messages about it had come from Adam. With the other two preoccupied in their little tasks, Troy and Evon had been left alone. They had prepared the location for human use, bringing out smaller travelling chairs to sit on, while also gathering stones to make a ring around the fire. It was a quiet time, for a while. Time had gone by quickly. The fishing trip had taken more than a few hours. Drinks had been had during their break upon the boat. How long had Troy been on that thing, before those cans had been brought forth? More than four hours in the very least. Dr Fidelis¡¯ warning about liquid had been well-placed. Before getting a taste, Troy had been utterly unable to find anything wrong with it. The texture of it was just as it always was. The taste was non-existent, but so had everything else in that place also been. The carbonated bubbles could be heard popping away from the opening, just putting that final nail in the bed. There truly had been no way to find the difference. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Then Nico had taken a large gulp of the stuff, before abruptly having a coughing fit. The excuse of it going down the wrong pipe had been given. It had not done so, of course. Hadn''t gotten that far. Ever had a limb gone asleep? The feeling of spastic movement upon one¡¯s attempts. A weird feeling to be sure, but it was the one that came after which was not fondly remembered. Absolute pins and needles had filled Troy¡¯s mouth when he had taken that large sip of the drink. It had stopped him from drinking anything entirely. Those needs were being taken care of by that pill the doctor had given him. The other people had not questioned his lack of drinking, which was more than likely a kind gesture. Evon sighed from the side, causing Troy to look over at the kid. The sky had been darkening for a while now. The sun couldn''t be seen anymore. It was still up in the sky, obscured by the clouds and trees. It would be a while before the moon came along, but tiredness had already begun to touch his mind. It couldn''t have been that long. Troy could vividly wake up not that long ago. How could he already feel the need to sleep? His body was being manipulated! This place before him was too realistic. Really, had they not thought about Troy falling asleep inside the puzzle room? It could happen if he wasn''t careful! "At least I am not being left out in all this," Evon said, making Troy¡¯s eyes focus once more. The younger man was looking sheepish, as he stared right back. "When saying yes to this trip, I had been under the expectation of hard labour. Real, bone-wrenching work. And, what do we have? The chance to enjoy another drink, while our dear friends are doing everything for us! I didn''t ask for that, and I am certain you don''t have the gall to ask for it either. Those two are acting weird today." "It is a special occasion," Nico answered. Troy had absolutely no idea, on how to settle Evon down. Would it too far, if he simply asked him to calm down? "It''s always a special occasion, isn''t it? What is so special about today? Can''t say I read anything fancy on the calendar this morning. Or this week. Or this month. Nothing special ever really happens to us anymore." It was ended off with but another sip of his drink. The rant was not said perfectly. Pauses had been made a bit more than any person would do normally. Troy could see the reason here. It was obvious. Drowning sorrows, no matter how small, was to easy a fix. ''Another message has been received,` Adam sent, in the now customary manner. Troy only wished that the AI would detail the message fully in the first message. Hadn''t he been at the other end of that criticism before? A bit hypocritical for an entity with perfect memory. But, then again, there likely was just another perfectly reasoned grounds for this change in dynamic. The man couldn''t bring himself to make yet another bit of sign language. A lazy hand movement was all that was given, giving a very strong implication of the AI just needing to hurry things along. ''Please use already agreed upon communication methods. The message gotten is another one, being very short in nature. As such, with a long time on our hands, I feel it possible to read it, with no personal input. Time is cutting short. The action is growing closer. Nico does not want to wait, but he knows he must. The ticking clock inside his mind is growing louder by the second. Was he scared? Was he happy? Was he sad? Or was he angry? Maybe it was every emotion at once. Maybe it was none of them at all. Nico did not want to know. The knowledge would make him falter. The belief needed to be kept tight, or he would stray from the path he needed to take. That was the message. Make of it what you want.` Those messages were getting less and less positive. Were they ever anything but what they were now, Troy wondered? Maybe it was the lack of quantity twisting his view. Maybe it was something else. "You should try to limit your intake," Nico said, seeing Evon continuing his long sip of the drink. Give it a few more seconds, and Troy might even have witnessed the younger man emptying the can completely. Had he not had enough? That was, what, the eight? Maybe the tenth. He hadn''t been paying too much attention to it. "I''m building up immunity," Evon replied. "If I drink enough of the stuff, I won''t be able to feel it in the end." "I am sure that there are other ways to get the same result." "Not at the speed that I need." Troy could only give Evon another long glance, before retreating into his thoughts. He knew that it was all simulated. He knew it was all fake. Yet¡­ that kid was not doing anything close to a healthy mindset. And the kid certainly knew it, but just didn''t care. The minutes passed in more silence. One Troy felt the need to be broken, but it couldn''t be done by him. No matter how much he wanted to, he was still an employee. This was his job. Following orders. And, his orders were to sit there and look thoughtful about life. How would his past self be looking at him? Would Troy be surprised at his destiny? Or, would he be relieved? It wasn''t every day that the promise of a job came into one¡¯s ears. He had been preparing to live on the streets for a while. The savings hadn''t lasted forever after all. There was always the knowledge that they would expire, but the day had never seemed so real. Troy had been saved at the finish line, and he knew it clearly. If only- "Thank you," Evon stated, his tone low. "What?" Troy blurted out unintentionally. His tone was not calm, far from it, being closer to his usual surprised tones. The face was quickly placed back together in the needed mask, but the voice had already slipped out. Fortunately, Evon did not seem to have paid that much mind. The kid looked so deep into his own mind, that any inconsistencies outside would not be paid any thoughts. "Thank you for being here. It means a lot," Evon continued bit by bit. The can, formerly residing in his hand, had fallen to the ground. No contents spilt out. "Don''t worry about it. Being there is what your friends are for," Nico answered calmly. A calming nature was meant to be portrayed, but Troy felt it had failed. "Friends¡­ That is precisely what they do. We help each other, we talk to each other, we tell each other exactly what we deserve to be told. We deserve everything from each other, and that is exactly what we are supposed to give. You are the perfect example of a friend, Nico. You may not realise it, but you have done more for me than nearly any other person has done in my entire life. It makes me sad, just how much I need to repay. I haven''t done anything close to your actions. Karma may be fake, but I want to respect it fully. Again. Thank you. I do not deserve your kindness." Troy could only stare back, not knowing what to say. Such a thing to be said so early. It would take most by surprise. But¡­ it wouldn''t surprise Nico. Nico wouldn''t even blink. Nico would be unfazed by the confession. He would only stare forward, enjoying the quietness of the forest. The stars had begun appearing. Troy spent the next long while trying to recognize the patterns, while Evon tried to hide his crying right beside him. It took more than he was expecting, for Troy not to try comforting him. Chapter 111: Collaboration
The food looked great. It smelled of nothing. The others looked to enjoy it. Troy couldn''t even feel it. The food would always disappear before it ever reached his tongue. It was likely for the best, not feeling that cycle of static again. Yet, whatever conclusions his mind had brought forth, his body had straight out ignored them. Even if he was feeling no need to eat anything, his stomach had growled several times upon the sight of the food before him. Troy had never been one for fried fish, but it was looking better and better by the second. Having gotten himself a piece beforehand had not been a resolution made by his head. How he wished that punishment for that action had come. Perhaps that would have stopped those awful reactions to the fake food. There wasn''t even anything to smell! It was pretty unmistakably fake. "Do you want another slice?" Naadim asked. He had unanimously been declared the distributor of food. Only a single grabbing claw had been brought, and the man had been steadfast on keeping it on him. Some eerie personal attachment right there, but Troy wasn''t going to pity it any wonders. More abstract obsessions had been witnessed before. Shivers still went up to his spine, when he thought of that poor car. There should have been a law against such acts. "We have plenty left." And, they most certainly had pieces to spare. Looking at the semi-alight fire, over it laid more than two full fish left. Some potatoes in tinfoil had been prepared alongside it, bringing more memories forth than Troy dared to think about. "It will go unenjoyed. Best to let it go to another," Nico acknowledged a hand motion already up. The distributor had taken it upon himself to answer the question in his mind, already fishing up another few parts of fish. Troy nearly grimaced upon it being brought to him. Through the thin paper plate, he could feel the heat from it. If he held his nose, it would all feel so real. If only he could taste it. Even just feeling it would be okay. The sensation of it inside him was credible enough to satisfy those annoying cravings. Near-automatically, Troy brought the food to his mouth. It was physically brought inside, with no real emotion put into it. It could have been explained as a part of his character act but he honestly wasn''t feeling it. Acting like he was actually eating, putting on the show of chewing, and swallowing was slowly making him go insane. How long had the experiment been going on? Dr Fidelis had not been kidding about its length. With the boat being a test-length upon itself, lunch had likely passed by upon its end. Several more hours had passed by since then. Was it already dinner time? Was night already upon them? Taking a glance upwards provided no answers. It had been night-time there for a long time now. The sun had disappeared a long while ago. Darkness filled up the forest, only lit by the full moon and the small fire they sat around. Troy didn''t understand it. What were they waiting for? Had he done something wrong? Had he said the wrong thing? Had he not said the needed key-word? Was he supposed to have catched some of the fish? Uncover the secret mausoleum under the lake, which only one of pure spirit can sense? Was he destined to be the king of Britons? The last one gave a small smile to appear upon Nico¡¯s face. Still staring up at the stars, Troy felt he could give the man that. It was the right mood after all. The silence between the men, the occasional crackling of the fire, and the wind moving in from the south all brought the ambience together. Anticipation. That damn word being on the forefront of his mind again and again. "Is this not beautiful?" Algie asked out of the blue. While Naadim had been reserved throughout nearly the whole journey, the gold medal of silence clearly came to that man. Since the rare words upon the exit of the car, not a hoot had come from the man¡¯s mouth. Many times, he had looked ready to speak. Just as many times, he had closed it and walked away. "The place we all knew, grown into something we have not ever seen. Changed, transformed, and created anew. The trees are where I remember them, yet the bark upon them I have never before glanced. What is inside of them may be that of old, but that which is outside is newer than my niece. Might even rival in sheer beauty." A whisper ended the speech off, Algie leaning back in his small chair. They all had one, yet his sitting arrangements looked the most worn. From use, or from the man sitting upon it, nobody would ever know for certain. "Harsh words for your own blood," Naadin remarked with an¡­ playful tone. A tone with a hint of mirth attached. A cheerful one. "I know my blood better than any other man. If I say she does not have a promising future, I mean it. We are not known for beauty, but for our wisdom. Such as, not saying this information in front of my beloved." Laughter. Laughter upon laughter came from the two. Evon chuckled along from the side, finding obvious humour in it, no matter how predisposed his mind might have been. Nico sat as still as ever, enjoying the added noise. White noise for the deaf, or screaming for the poor. A true symbol of boredom getting all in the end. The cheeriness continued for a while. No more jokes were said. No more words, laying it on even more. Each time both would quiet down, the men would look each other in the eyes, before going right back to their screaming. Manly screaming of course... As long as gender stereotypes about voice pitch had reversed upon itself. "We should have done this more often," Evon remarked from the side. "If this is the kind of mood to expect, we could all have benefited from such a trip greatly." Like the needle tacked into a water balloon, the mood had utterly disappeared. It was curious to see, the two men growing right back to their quiet demeanour. Not a look was shared, both having the same intention of never saying another word in their life. Was it shame holding them down? Troy could clearly see their want to take up another gag, bringing the temperature right back up. Glances were given to the bag. And not the bag with fishing rods. As if that would bring the back genuine friendship they had brought forth. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "... I think I will need another piece," Nico said, having emptied his plate in the meantime. The round piece of paper was delivered to the waiting hand of Naadim, another half of a potato put upon it, with a small side of fish. "Big appetite you have there, Nico," Evon said likely to break either the silence or the stares. The other two weren''t having anything anymore. After a minute of Nico eating alone, all others seemed to have been done with dinner. The remaining foods were thrown in the bushes, a gift to animals residing close by. The smell would likely attract them by morning come. "It is a special day. Rare occasions require rare actions," Nico answered. Troy felt like slapping himself, his way of speaking being morphed more and more into that of which he hated to hear. But¡­ speaking plainly would ruin what they had already obtained. Stopping now would bring ruin. Quite the perspective to get for his childhood, even if the excuses likely weren''t the same. Alike but not identical. Glowing before them steadfastly, no more branches were given to the fire. It had been slowing down it''s crackling for a while. Troy felt bad for the non-sentient thing. It worked so hard to live, not knowing it had already been given up on. No wait¡­ the group was more along the lines of waiting for it to die. The stares Naadim and Algie gave the light was nearly frightening. They knew what would happen, they knew why it was happening, and they knew that they would not like it. "It most certainly is. Wish we had brought more to celebrate it with." Evon answered yet again. "More weight will make it all the harder for us, you must discern! A heavier burden would bring you twisted pleasure, would it not?" Naadim nearly shouted at the younger man. Anger was prevalent upon his face, it scrunched up to show exactly what he felt for him. "You know about it! The others know of it because of you! Do you feel proud, you sad excuse for a-" "Friend," Algie calmy told. The voice was low, just as the tone was, but the group could hear it all the more clearly. Naadim stared at the bearded man, the focus of anger switching over. It did not take long to dissipate, the presumed catalyst not being within view any more. The arm ready to strike was lowered slowly. A look was given to its palm as if to speculate just what he had been prepared to do. Troy saw him sit down in his seat yet again. No reaction had come from him. No reaction had come from Evon either. The first had been a wonder, and the second had been quickly deemed a mistake. Brain damage had been imminent, yet the younger man had not even flinched. Instead, a carefree smile had been given to his would-be attacker. A hug of the eyes, inviting it all in. If anything, the kid nearly looked disappointed. No more conversation was given freely. Troy got the rest of his food to dissipate before the paper plate going away along with it. Naadim likely took it from the ground. Nico didn''t notice, staring up at the skies yet again. Memory had finally begun kicking in. He could almost recognize the figures in front of his eyes. The belt of a demigod, and the mistakes it brought with it. A long time was spent thinking. Thoughts went by in a slowed downstate. Troy never put too much focus on what went by, not bothering to remember most of it. Only the more forceful ones ever got more than a moment of his time. Adam had not said anything hitherto. It had been a long time since the last message. Ideas about him contacting the AI had been thought of in desperation. It had been in one of the more monotonous states, that the idea had been manifested. Troy felt shame for creating it. Communicating with such fickle ideas was not within Nico¡¯s scope. He might have had beliefs, but none had been proven to be based on myth. One by one, the lights had disappeared. The fire was no longer ablaze. It had been enough to see for a while. A half-hour ago, they had thought it over. But, there had still been light from within. The structure built had been whacked with a club, and was left exposed to the cold air. It had not taken much more. "The sun will soon be upon us," Nico said. It was not yet obvious, but continuous observation had let him regard the mild enlightening of the side. Troy would give it an hour or two before it could be called early morning. "We will have left before the light touches us," Naadim said, being the first to get up from his chair. "Let this walk begin." "That took some time to start," Evon said from the side. A swing or two of the arm was observed by Troy as if waking his body up from some action. A warm-up, good to get the blood flowing. "Mind if I bring a can along." Algie¡¯s eyes narrowed when looking at the younger man. But, a loud exhale was given to it. "If that is what you wish, I have no will to stop you from it. Bring your drink along. You better enjoy it." With the other three packing away their chairs, Troy felt inclined to do the same. Getting up, the chair became much more straight with a twist, allowing it to be easily packed inside the car. The future really was a good place to be. Naadim and Algie went around the car, bringing out assortments of gear. Troy was not able to see it, having instead restrained himself to only hear the grinding of alloy. ''The final message has appeared,` Adam sent. The first message to be received in too long. "Of course it has," Troy chose to mutter. Evon had walked down towards the lake again. It was not long away, but enough to not overhear the mutterings of a tired man. The other two were similarly preoccupied, gathering things Troy wasn''t sure he desired to see. ''Nico had already planned what will pass now. Algie and Naadim shall remain on another path than one of you and Evon. You will take a walk down the side of the lake. When Evon requests it, you are to oblige. That is all.` Of course, it was. A nod was given to the two, which was stiffly returned. A hug or two were also exchanged before Troy marched down to meet the kid. Evon didn''t react much as Troy reached him, staring up at the sky much as he himself had done not long ago. The eyes were glossed over though, not focused much on the sight before him. "The sky really is beautiful. Algie may have said so earlier, but I don''t think he could appreciate much like I do¡­ Nico. Do you ever get the feeling of a purpose? A full understanding of what you must do?" Troy looked at the younger man for a few seconds, studying the expression. It was serene. The corners of the lips were slightly upwards, but that was likely only for the benefit of Nico. "I do think so, Evon." "Huh. Well, you can call me jealous of you officially then. I thought I did as well. I thought for a long time I had it all figured out. I did what I thought I was destined to do. But¡­ it turned out not so. I have understood that now. Not like it will do any difference soon. Naturally. While I might not have understood the feeling of knowing one¡¯s destiny before, at least I know my own now. Are you creeped out, that I just said that? That it comforts me? That I am happy, that I know what will soon happen?" Nico was not able to answer, for Troy was not able to find anything to say. What did the kid expect? Likely something only Nico could think of. For the first time in their little stand-of, Evon finally looked at Troy. Really looked at him. "I really do want to thank you, you know. I can''t give anything back that I owe to you. Not anything that will be worthy enough." "I do not expect for you to pay any of it back," Nico stated, for the first time not as calm as before. Evon slightly raised his eyes at this, but it was damped down to serenity soon enough. "Shall we take a walk?" "Lets. I hear the moonlight reflects perfectly on the lake." Neither did look at the lake. Nico returned to the car, syringe in hand. It was handed off to Algie, who hugged him one more time. He was left in the car, the other two during their part of the task. Troy didn''t look on. He closed his eyes, as he felt his legs rest from sitting down. *Well done!* Was heard from the earpiece. *You can head out now, Troy. What a performance!* Opening his eyes, it had all turned white. Upon getting up, even the seat had turned into nothing. It had all been a simulation. A fake world, put upon a white canvas. "Sounds good." Chapter 112: Remotivation
As Troy took his first step into the reality that he could trust, realisations finally began whirling inside his head. The puzzle-room had affected his condition too much, muddling his heed for action. Had he ever really been in power? Standing right outside the massive cube, he could not help but wonder how it worked. Being right next to the massive thing, it was easy to spot its large dimensions. The walls hid it well. The puzzle room was much bigger than it had been initially thought as. Looking to the sides, only darkness could be found. Seeing it from anywhere else in the room was impossible. Yet seeing it for himself was thought-provoking. How far in did the room go? It was getting harder to believe that it was all contained in the small space Troy knew. There always were two exits. One just needed to look close enough. And he was certainly trying his hardest. Would it be hard to believe it was hidden? It wasn''t something out of the ordinary in the facility, after all. There had to be some fire regulations about hidden doors. Regulations which were thoroughly ignored. Could the government do that, legally speaking? Just, like, refuse any check-ups on themselves, keeping all the exposition to other people? There probably was some ground jurisdiction preventing that, but there were just as likely people not caring any small bit about what the law said. Likely took those rules as guidelines. Taking along the humorously large corruption-level of the government, Troy knew he just had to look carefully enough. If there was one thing, which could reveal any secret door, it would be the largest folly of mankind. Themself. No sane person would go through a hundred little steps, just to retrieve their lunchbox. They would instead prefer a one-action process. Switch a letter, hit a wall, say some codeword neatly written down. Hell, it might even be some quick dance routine. Taking a look at the slightly-hunched over doctor, Troy took that last idea off the list. It would have to do some less physically-demanding things, putting the spotlight right back onto the button idea. Where would one hide a switch, which unveiled a secret room? Staring intently onto the usual standing-places, much exertion was used to find out. His brain was wracked over and over again. As they said, brute force was a viable technique, so long as you had enough of it. ''Has testing taken a mental toll on you?` Adam questioned. The voice startled Troy more than he liked to admit. It had been a while since the AI had contacted him, allowing him to get used to the lower volumes. It had been great, if but for a moment, to only hear the quiet tappings on the screen. A moment of¡­ serenity. "What? No. Of course not," Troy answered with an exhale to get out with it. A mental toll? It might not have been too far from the truth. He wasn''t tired, he wasn''t hungry, and his body wasn''t hurting. Troy was in an optimal state of physicality. Yet, there still was that feeling. It was not one he had felt for so long. What had it even been called? It had taken so long to find out last time. Remorse? No¡­ that wasn''t it. Close, but more along the lines of- "Oh, dang it!" Dr Fidelis exclaimed. "I nearly forgot about you, Troy! This footage really is too much for me to understand in the first see-through. What are you still doing up there? Hasn''t the test been finished for a while now? I''m pretty sure that I let you out immediately? Did I¡­ Yeah, I did. Come on down here, would you? We don''t have much left on the schedule, but that doesn''t mean we have to be slow about things here. Efficiency is the only real key to success." The doctor went right back onto his deep stare into his screen. Yet, this time he seemed much more aware of his surroundings, the body ready to move quickly. How was Troy able to see this? Well, he had gotten himself a good load of practice looking at the small differences. Whatever criticisms could be used for the puzzle room, and the various ethical questions that came with it, that place was anything but unrealistic. If he closed his eyes slowly enough, Troy still thought he could see Evon smiling in him, as the needle slowly was inserted into his¡­ Whatever. "We will talk later," Troy told the AI, beginning the careful walk down the few steps. ''As you wish,` was heard in reply as the earpiece was pulled out of the ear. Troy gave it a good long look. The thing before him was a masterpiece. People would have been called crazy if they stated the possibility of this thing being built. Dr Fidelis never paid the thing much mind, but Troy could see the care he gave the small device. The doctor deeply cared for this creation, both in its integrity and what it meant for all. No, he was getting ahead of him there, saying such things. The doctor was dreaming about the things it could mean for all. The treasured device was left at the table. He had a hard time finding any reaction because of it coming from Dr Fidelis. A look, like many before, was given to the electronic screen, a focus windowed into many thoughts. And just like the many times tried before, Troy would have been better off not even looking. It was akin to seeing people solve a thirty-two sided Rubix-cube. Acknowledgement for their accomplishment, maybe with some mild clapping along with kind words, but no way in hell would anybody sane try to imitate the action. At this point, Troy wasn''t even sure if the doctor was looking at his work. The morphing had turned radical, circles turning into fractals, fractals turning into Penrose triangles, and those fancy triangles turning into weirdly realistic pictures of skating sheep. "You should get changed, Troy," Dr Fidelis said. The man being talked to hadn''t even seen the doctor acknowledge him, making the sudden words surprise him dearly. "This is not meant maliciously, but I can smell where you are currently located." Being told by one¡¯s superior to go away, in such an abstract fashion, was a new one for him. Sure, he had been told to trifle away, but that certainly hadn''t been due to any bodily odours. Safer to say, that the true reasons during those times had been a lack of caution in his words. Not a mistake he was hoping to make again. As nobody said nowadays, the thirteenth time was the charm. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Troy hurried over to his jerry-rigged changing room. The fancy curtain was drawn, giving him the needed privacy to get out of the things. The reintroduction had allowed his nose to wake up from hibernation. That had further allowed him to realise just what he was walking around in. Luckily, there had been no delay in getting the bit-too-skintight suit off, it decompressed before privacy had ever truly been gained. It stuck more than a little to the skin, but that was more of an encouragement to get the thing off quickly. His regular clothes were quickly reacquainted with before Troy got himself out of the changing room. He stretched, feeling the pops in the back, that told him he had been unmoving for too long. Or that he just hadn''t been moving the right way for some time. It was a shame that he still didn''t know the time. More annoying really. It would have been great to know, but the only working clock was that screen Dr Fidelis continued fiddling around with, the fingers moving faster than anything a man his age should have been able to. Well¡­ there was his brain-implant. It was his little, personal screen, with only his eyes ever getting to look upon it. Allowing nearly anything to be streamed, played, or otherwise manipulated, the intent of mind would allow any person to never feel the annoying itch of boredom. It was also the leading cause of suicide, but that wasn''t listed on the figurative poster anywhere. Troy had been an avid user of his perfect outdated device, never going ten minutes without it. Even in his sleep, he had been using it for white noise. It always helped him calm down, never hearing that intruding silence. The implant had been his saviour, never regretting the moment he paid under the table to get it activated early. Back in the day, the government had realised the problems brain-implants gave. Anti-social behaviour, literal addiction, and a large body over-manipulated mind ran rampant throughout the world. It brought so many positives, but so much more negatives as well. The changes were not mental either. If it had been left at causing psychological problems, people higher up would probably have left it alone. The business was flourishing everywhere, people being given various more enhanced reminders of their need for the new big product. Brains were funky things. Even now, people still have problems getting their head around them. We know as a fact that they do work, we kinda know how they work, but we don''t know why. We can pull on all the little bits, show where they send the signals, even give little separations of their individual jobs, but there is so much more that can''t be really explained all that well. Sentience would be a great illustration of that. One thing was of course know. When growing up, the brain changed as much physically as it did mentally. Every little hit made it grow. For better or for worse, every influence had its own little pay-off. And those fancy brain-implants were no different. The effect might even have shown more prominently. It took a whole decade before the effects really started to show. It had been in a small time-frame, that it was trendy to give little kids their first brain-implant. Age three and ready to step into the digital world. Nearly literally in this case. Those little youngsters got so good at using their little cute implants, with just as cute brand-names attached, that some just gave up on their bodies. Their minds had centred around the implants. They got near-all sensory input from it. Parents had thought it the world''s greatest product. Kids would never have to scream for anything if the implant provided just what they wanted with a thought. Addiction from the age of seven. Took four years of exposure, before they stopped moving their bodies. No force was brought into it. The kids just willingly succumbed to a life of the digital, no matter what their bodies had to say about it. There was no real cure for this. Attempts were made to remove the brain-implants. Most died from surgery, but some were successfully separated from their lives. The first was nearly a gift, in comparison to the next. The mind was a curious thing, turning the world upon its head several times. When it didn''t get what it had lived with for most of its life, there were consequences. Self-cannibalization, starting all the way from within. Self-made asphyxiation symptoms, entirely unstoppable once started. The kids who didn''t get their implants removed were lying quietly in their very own hospital bed. If they hadn''t deteriorated from enhanced ageing yet, of course. Troy remembered a documentary he saw about it a few years ago. It had been a real tear-jerker. The jokes had been much more entertaining though. How they had managed to turn it all into a dark comedy still fascinated him to no end. The effects were not as extreme when people grew older. The brain settled into place, more comfortable in its standings. It could still change, of course. Stopping that would be akin to suicide. Yet¡­ adults could live their whole lives as normal, with that brain-implant put in. The government had never really banned the brain-implants. At that point, nearly eighty per cent of the people living had something or other jabbed into their head. What could they have done? Performed invasive surgery, with an extremely high rate of death, on nearly twenty billion people just so they could uphold order? No, it was much easier to simply outlaw the various applications. An age-restrictor. And an exceedingly good one at that. Most kids, between the age of twenty-one and seven, only ever heard of the things a brain-implant could give. Most had never even seen the colourful screen before their eyes. Only the dearest of emergencies allowed temporary access. It was upon mental maturity that they were let loose, allowed to use the wonderful invention to the fullest, allowing both pleasure and security in one firm bundle. There was no point waiting, though. That had been the thoughts of a certain idiot. It still brought a grimace to his face, thinking about the techniques used to get access. Troy had paid some guy to do it for him, of course. No way he would be sticking his hands into his head, hoping for something positive out of it. It had included more than a couple of needles and some amateurish therapy after the fact, but he had gotten the bite of the apple early. Troy had been in the safe zone when access had been allowed to him. No way was he getting any chance of being comatose. His mind was his own, and he wouldn''t be a sack of flesh, being kept alive by people wishing him dead. He willed it to be so. That was how it worked, right? In the beginning and middle, he had certainly thought of it in such a peculiar way. A peculiarly stupid way. Giddiness had been felt, being allowed to step into the shoes of an adult. The system had acknowledged him as such, and who would be saying no to something digital. A machine can''t lie now, can it? That feeling of pleasure had lasted Troy a good year. As was obvious, over-use had been prevalent. Thoughts about how to use it, using it, then thinking some more about its uses while also using. That was life. The school was easy when one had the handy cheat-sheet in the mind. Nobody thought of that chance of course. Why would they? It got hard though when Troy had a seizure. It had been a normal day. A Normal breakfast, a normal walk to school, and just a normal class. According to the people sitting close to him at the time, his legs had tensed themselves instantly, arms swinging just as hard. Having been in a sitting position, this head flung his head at the all so comfortable metal corners of a desk. After a week in the hospital, he had admitted his mistakes. The people had not been happy, whoever they might have been. Troy didn''t remember much from that time in his life. Brain scans had been had, swears had been uttered, and removal had been discussed. The idea had been turned down, with Troy¡¯s mind having been extraordinary in its quick assimilation. He could survive without the brain-implants constant sensation, sure, but the literal components had put themselves well into his brain-stem. They had a better chance of replacing all his organs at once. So, the next alternative had been decided on. Complete isolation from anything resembling brain-implants. Suffice to say, it had been hard for him. Not the greatest turn to live with. Lies had been exposed quickly. The school had demanding reasons for the injuries gotten inside their location. It took a single teacher mumbling a little too loud before the school was in an uproar about it. Having gotten to the top of the hill, Troy had unwillingly begun the downwards trek. Life had not been the same since. Once somebody had a taste, it was nearly impossible to get back. Maybe it was for the better, that he had no choice in this matter. The brain-implant had been hard-locked. Attempts had been made, and money had been given back. Now, with that more fancy thing in his head, it was not unlikely that his chances of regaining his former glory had turned from improbable to outright impossible. Such was life. ¡­ What had he been thinking about again? "Finally got yourself dressed, buddy? Transcendent! Get over here, and let''s have ourselves a little talking." Oh, yeah. That was it. Chapter 113: Cyberization
Troy stood a small ways apart from the doctor, making sure his negative atmosphere couldn''t find any targets too quickly. It had already been quite embarrassing being told off for it once. The situation would just turn awkward if it became a recurring problem. As a divergence from normality, the fine doctor had walked away from his little screen. More than a good few steps were between him and the technological device. It was fascinating, even more so when one took in Troy as the reason for it. Dr Fidelis must have had something on his mind, to trek so far away from one of his many treasures. Could he have a fever? "Feeling a little tired, buddy? Those eyes of yours are dropping. Give it a few more seconds, and I might just have to stop another injury from coming," Dr Fidelis said, bringing Troy out of his daze with his words. This caused the aforementioned falling of eyelids, and a few blinks keeping away the sleepiness rapidly. That didn''t take long. Troy still wasn''t feeling anything out of the ordinary. His body just wasn''t¡­ following his orders. The wording brought more with than it reasonably should have. Questions were already appearing, and he already had the perfect man to answer them. "Not in the slightest, sir. I am as fit as a fiddle," Troy answered, trying to wave off any of the doctor¡¯s worries. "By the way, mind answering a few questions about the test?" "I will bet you a dollar you''ve any seen a fiddle in your life. Kids nowadays have hardly even seen an instrument. Electronic music really did a number on us all. And you can ask away. Don''t expect too much from me, though. I''m hardly on my third watch through this test. It just gets too interesting at some of the middle parts. I never would have expected you to actually¡­ nevermind. What questions do you have for an old man, such as me?" Dr Fidelis asked, not seeming like any old man would. He was still a good bit taller than Troy. The width was not even fair to compare to each other. That man might not have had a low body-fat, but that refined muscle mass was certainly not on top of the curve. A rarity in the fitter leagues of man. Honestly, that body could rival a diet version of Charlie. Would it be wrong to ask how much the doctor could deadlift? Or did the man do fitness of any kind? Steoriods were available to anybody, as long as the right person was known. With a larger clearance on a government hidden facility, would it be too hard to imagine the doctor having a taste of the newest biological technology? If it turned out the man was pure natural, in the steroids department at least, Troy could also ask where the fitness rooms were. He had been looking for- No! Troy catched himself that time. While it might not have been too obvious as first, with no warnings coming from his body, his mind was obviously tired. Not in the usual way, though. This was something new. Something which might just go away with some time resting. If not, it would be brought up with the doctors. Or, well, doctor. "This test. You made all of it yourself?" Troy began the questioning off with. A simple yes or no would help guide things along smoothly. "Of course I did. When it comes to work that I trust, it is that done by my own hands. While some of the modellings might have been left to randomisations, nearly everything about what happened inside was orchestrated by me. Pretty neat, don''t you think?" Troy thought it a perfect example of why virtual violence had gotten so many restrictions on it. Nowadays, it was nearly impossible to tell the fake, more violent videos apart from the real ones. Enough advancements had been made. What could be discounted as being obviously unreal was now useless as an excuse. "It was unique in its own right. Certainly haven''t seen much like it before," Troy answered, not wanting to spend too much time on that subject. The tip of the needle had been sharp. With a bit more pressure, blood would have flown from his palm. "You just said that everything that happened had been composed by you. Was that all there was? Was it all intended to happen? Everything happening just as planned?" How much control had Troy really had over it all? Was he able to pull any responsibility on anybody beyond himself? He may just have been following the requests of Adam, but was that a viable excuse? It might have been accepted as one for some, but he was having trouble accepting it as such. Troy knew what he had done, and he felt no remorse for it. But, as was becoming more and more obvious, he was certainly feeling something. Dr Fidelis laughed at first. A full one at that, while the whole spiel that involved slapping of knees. The doctor¡¯s own, of course. Troy didn''t feel comfortable letting the older man touch his... What a ghastly thing to think. "Oh, buddy, you really can say such comical things. Only one possible ending? What does this look like? The forties?" Dr Fidelis rhetorically asked, having a small giggle at the inside joke. It might have been an obvious reference, but that was a whole other thing when it came to how long the man had had to gather information. "Alas! Such a simple task would not have been allowed in my sight. What could a good test be, if not fully dynamic to the wishes of the ones being tested? Could I really brag about the results to my peers, if they had not a chance of being applicable in the real world? No, it is not as you think, buddy. Those personages you saw in there? They were as fraudulent as they can be. Not a single thing about them was sentient. Simple puppets, with a character sheet longer than any man should ever have to read. Wrote most of it myself. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. You played a character. A character with his very own sheet. It might not have been as long, or even fully detailed, but there was a sheet nonetheless. Had to allow you some wriggle room. While this character did fit the hole left for it, there were some traits I left up for your choices. Or, you could say it was the choices of Adam. Does it really matter, when it comes to the two of you? I think not, personally speaking. I wrote the backstory for this test as well, you know. Spent a long time on it, actually. I gained a few more wrinkles because of it. While my mind might have it easy, finding some new extraordinary hardware pieces, I am lost when it comes to stories. I have never understood them. If they aren''t real, why bother? Inspiration can be gained much more effectively from better sourced in under half the time. Ended up stealing most of the plot, though. Made a few changes to the locations, changed some of the details, but it all essentially happened." Troy stared at Dr Fidelis for a moment, before getting right back into it. There had been no expectations for the doctor to detail it out so quickly. Not much was held back. Many of the minor questions had just gotten out of the way, in under a minute. "Thanks for the longer answer, but that¡­ wasn''t what I was looking for," Troy meekly stated. "Oh? What were you hoping I would say? If you want me to get some more details on the coding, I could give you a few-" Yeah, no way in his life was he allowing that to continue. Troy was not going to be able to bear through another technical discussion in his life. Especially not coding. It was the devil¡¯s language. Only the true masochist of the world subjected themselves to interacting with such a vile thing. "I was hinting at you talking more about the ending of the test. You know¡­ the finale of the whole thing." That brought a damper on Dr Fidelis¡¯ mood. Not that it had made his enthusiasm disappear. Far from it, actually. It was closer to being along the lines of him showing just a little respect. He had watched Troy do it, and more than likely heard the vocalisations that came afterwards. "Ah, yes. The showstopper of the whole thing. I had been afraid of even having that part in this test. But, I felt it was needed if the experiment was to reach the heights it deserved. An all or nothing scenario. Adam¡¯s less-than-stellar reactions to earlier stimuli of similar type was not the greatest. If such a thing was to happen again¡­ I would not be sure that I could keep doing these tests," Dr Fidelis said. His lips were tight-pressed together for a moment, his face revealing just how many thoughts were swimming by in the doctor¡¯s head. "So much risk assessment. But, after much discussion with Dr Hale, I felt that this test was needed. It was the final piece of the puzzle. The true finisher of this subject. Lies, deceit, and so much more was hidden in this test. Adam actually picked up on a lot of it. I could see it in your actions. Some weirdly specific requests should have been made by the little guy, I''m sure. The ending¡­ that was an unexpected one. In total, there were thirty-eight main endings, with some variations inside each. I had noted this one down as the least likely, just between some of the ones only made for the sake of humour. Was it destined? It was as destined as your own actions are. And that, my friend, is a whole other branch of science to discuss. You could have changed it if different actions were made. Nico could have wished to do something else. The messages were special in that way. I only wrote the first one of them. The others were made, with your actions as a base. Some information was sprinkled in after the fact, but the foundations came from what you did, Troy. Even smaller opportunities can be turned into something great, just as it can be turned into something terrible. It would do good to remember that. Got any other questions? I can certainly keep answering." Troy did not like the answer. He had not been expecting to but was more than a little bummed out by the result nonetheless. It would have been perfect if things were as simple as he wanted them to be. The world would be a better place. For him, at least. "Can''t say I have too much left in me, sir. I had more than a handful, but your answers drain them away. You aren''t even keeping yourself to one at a time," Troy stated. "As if I would only answer one question at a time! Why do one when you can do two? Constant vigilance! It allows so much more if you just put your mind onto reading the things around you. Figuratively speaking, of course. I have made that mistake before. There are not many interesting things written about people, I can tell you that much. So¡­ what do you want to know?" Dr Fidelis¡¯ attempts to brighten his mood were semi-successful. Troy certainly couldn''t hide the very unprofessional snort that came forth. He actually understood that one, no matter how old it might have been. "I just wanted to ask¡­ what is the meaning with all of this?" Troy asked. Dr Fidelis looked ready to answer, but the man just continued his questioning without letting the doctor begin. "I get that it is to further your understanding of the AI. That''s what the recruitment guy told me. I understand that part. But¡­ what else? There has to be more than that. There are extremely many things other than this that you can do if you want to know more about Adam. Maybe just have a conversation with him? It will not bring what this does, but I can''t say I understand why you want what this can give you. Why do you want to know what he will do when asked to follow a character-driven story? What point is there to all of this? You know¡­ I was wondering about that kind of stuff." Dr Fidelis had looked ready to answer immediately, that overly-complicated wordings coming along with it. Yet, as Troy didn''t stop the questioning, going more in-depth about his worries, that easy-going smile slowly disappeared. It went downwards, into a state of focus. The doctor was listening intently to his words. He was being regarded as an individual. A person with legitimate worries. Troy would have been happy for it, if not for the situation that caused it. "Troy¡­ I have to a little honest here and say that you will never get the full truth out of me. As much as we like to put it up like it isn''t, you are as much part of the test as Adam is. You are a large factor in the test. I will tell you what I can. Always. When you ask into it, but that''s something you do so it still counts. This test right here? It is more than a simple experiment. It has importance, that you will never be told in a million years. You may have a high-security clearance, and the perks that accompany it, but even I am not allowed to grant you this information. It will be used for powers you can''t even imagine, by people who you will never meet. That I will likely never meet. For what, you ask? A greater purpose. Something bigger than you. Something bigger than me. Something bigger than nearly every living person in this whole facility. This experiment may seem simple, but it gives what is needed to accomplish things we will have never dreamed off. The information will serve us for as long as it can. This is the pavement for a path never walked on before. Troy. I trust you. If I didn''t, you would have never stepped a foot on this place. You would have never met me, Dr Hale, or anybody even related to this facility. If that is a gift or a curse, you can decide for yourself. I am sorry about this. I know you want to know more. You are not the only one that wants this. If my superiors ever decide to lower the information threshold, to put this closer on going public, you will be one of the first to get noticed of it. I mean that literally. Your name is written on some very important lists, all the way up top. Any other questions? If not, I believe it would be best, if I get back to work. Without Dr Hale, this will take more time than I would want it to. No man is eternal, and even I need some sleep some days. Tomorrow is a day off for you. You were supposed to have this one off as well, but that is neither here nor there. Enjoy yourself. That is the only real path to greatness." Chapter 114: Antilibration
Troy¡¯s stomach churned. Not the greatest moment for that natural process. It wasn''t anywhere near to be appearing great. Had that pill gone over its expiration date? Not the first time the government showed its massive incompetence. Was his stomach supposed to be rolling like that? The abs convulsed tortuously, causing an arm to go over them in instinct. A good amount of air escaped Troy while this befell him. From his mouth of course. He hadn''t lost that much control. As a loud gurgling noise came from within, the previously mentioned pain began to twist itself. It came in waves, pulsing along with the blood. Not the most pleasurable of sensations. Troy felt a need to close his eyes for a fleeting second, making sure he wasn''t going to lose his balance. Not that he was feeling dizzy. Only that those waves of discomfort usually came with temporary loss of control. Something about serious iron deficiency causing it. He wasn''t sure, having only been advised to change his diet those previous times. As serious as Troy was taking it, bracing himself for the eventual brief loss of consciousness, the doctor standing beside was having the time of his life. Dr Fidelis was in no way sadistic. The elderly man had no pleasure to gain from such unproductive actions. Yet¡­ there might have been one of the rarer smiles upon the doctor¡¯s face, looking down upon the younger man. Dr Fidelis himself had experienced that which Troy felt many times in his youth. As most things were, the first time was always the hardest. That scope of medicine had furthered itself many margins, since the time of his adolescence, but the after-effects had never fully been eliminated. By now, it looked to be impracticable. On the lighter side, the upcoming hours of discomfort had been the effects of a test well done. Dr Fidelis did not mention how happy he still was to the young man. Some people simply could not understand the greater good. It would come to an end soon enough. "It would be a good idea for you to visit the cafeteria on the way to your room. While the pill might have kept your hunger and thirst at bay, even such a miraculous contraption cannot hold the body at bay. Your body needs food and drinks to fill it, lest it will decline even more," Dr Fidelis advised his own struggles with the pills being used as the specialists. "Try not to wait for long, before you consume something. The longer you wait, the more¡­ disagreeable it will be. In the event of too long a delay, several attempts at consumption will likely have to be made. Keep yourself close to a trash can. It will aid you in your quest." Troy could only look up at the doctor, barely concealed venom soaring out of his eyes. Dr Fidelis did not seem to notice this, looking down at him with the customary fatherly smile. No hint of their earlier conversation was shown. It was appreciated, with both of them likely wanting to forget it ever happened. For widely different reasons, though. "I will take you up on the¡­ offer," Troy said through clenched teeth. The pain was lessening, leading him to believe it was just a strong start. It didn''t disappear though, just being before the line of being able to be ignored. The chances of him being unable to sleep before it was fixed were high. "It was not a command, buddy. Only a recommendation," Dr Fidelis wrily corrected. The good doctor turned back to the ever-present screen, booting up the lighting yet again. The time for work has seemingly come yet again. "It would be best if you hurry now. The cafeteria will be closing down for cleaning soon." A few pushes, half-circles, and a very jagged figure made on the screen later the secret door leading out to the hallway opened up. Troy got the message, not responding to what the doctor stated. Steps were taken swiftly. The door closed behind him silently, with Troy only noticing by taking a glance back at it. As the entrance sat back in place, there really was no way to mark its placement. It was indistinguishable from the surroundings. If he wasn''t here daily, there would be no way of guessing what did lie behind the walls. As he walked through the long hallways comprising the larger-than-life facility, this path of thoughts brought him the needed distraction. The pain felt in his upper body was not one felt much, but it could hurt hard when it wanted to. Secret doors, hidden entrances, and various other descriptions created by the observation of the same things were unfiltered in his mind. The potential of them and what they brought was a wonderful distraction. In his short period of working there, Troy had encountered only a few of these gateways. One hid his main-working place. The other hid an openly used shopping district. It was clear that little reasoning was put into, where the cover-ups needed to be. While he may have only interacted with two, that didn''t mean he had only been in the presence of so few. The testing room was located in a completely normal hallway. Troy had a hard time believing the other seemingly empty hallways were not of the same calibre. The place might have been underground, but that gave no excuse for so few working spaces. People were totalling in the four digits. Secrets were here, and he wanted to find them out. ¡­ Now that it was on his mind, Troy could actually just ask about most of it. His security clearance was well above the average. If he found the right people to ask, maybe some kind of inside directory, the files would just be sent over to him. It was certainly something that he could do tomorrow. It was his first official day off. Troy wasn''t sure how to feel about it happening so late. The man had been used to a zero-day work week, just lying down on his floor and contemplating the fragility of frog-legs. Fun times but certainly none that prepared him for this job. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it What could his occupation even be called? Guide? That was one big bundle of jokes nowadays. Adam had been as much a guide, if not more, guiding his actions down to his breathing. Now always, of course, the last test being an example. There, almost all of his actions had been precisely his own- And that did not take long to circle back to. Troy chided himself for his wandering mind, but the return of stomach-aches usefully turned him away from the topic. It was presumably induced by blood-pressure or something. No way was it its aim to be so convenient. Few things in the world were ever so. Blame was not something he could give here. While hatred might have been sent in the pain¡¯s directions, Troy knew that it was not at fault. It was but a byproduct. A byproduct of something he himself had agreed to do. Sure, Dr Fidelis might have proposed it, but that doctor did not have any true power over his will. This was fully the consequences of his own actions. "Oh, we sure seem to be meeting so much lately, my dear," Troy muttered in the direction of an unliving concept. Would it be called crazy, for him to be annoyed at no answers given? The man had seen so many impossible things happen within the walks he walked. Was it too weird to expect that which had already occurred before? It was always easier the second time, much less the third one. As a perfect example of impossibilities, Troy had reached the much-renowned cafeteria before he had time to even comprehend the fact. It might have been due to a rather sluggish mind, one which was already being used to its fullest, but nobody was around to point that out for him. Not that he would have listened at that point. He had not even noticed the people that had walked past him not too long ago. Yet, that might not have been a fault of his own, unlike other happenings in the past hours. The cafeteria was barren of people, safe for himself. Not too surprising, with the hour at such ungodly hours. The only persons awake were either night-shift or their minds had just flashed a memory of them sneezing into some old man''s neck from twelve years ago, and no matter how many times you said sorry, you still feel deeply ashamed of the scare you gave that poor old man, who didn''t deserve such sticky wetness. ¡­ Or it could have been something else entirely. Troy wasn''t the most trusted of sources at the current time. A longer glance at the clock hanging on the wall, he was able to discern the time as two in the morning. Four hours until he needed to be up. Or not. He was not really sure, that taller doctor of his not being too forthcoming with information about his work schedule. Disregarding the non-zero chances of human interaction, there was one positive of the location. Namely the food located within. A buffet was fully laid out, ready to be taken from, never being empty in any way. Troy had been hoping for something akin to his regular dinners, but only snack-foods were present, cut up in small sizes. It was simple snacks after all. No need to fill the stomach for the average worker coming in at this hour. There was the audible growl of desire coming from within. A void was presently appearing within Troy¡¯s stomach, doing its best to let its intentions be known. The man had already known the meanings for a while, but telling the organ to shut up wouldn''t do any good now, would it? Getting started on filling what would soon be able to destroy all of existence, Troy took in the first of what would be many snacks. First, there was the regular retinue of fruits. Apples, oranges, pears, and way too many things he had never seen before littered the long table. A whole section had been allowed for sweet things. It would be traitorous not to act as he did. Genetic manipulation truly had reached unopposed heights. How sad it was, that the population took the term as focused on the human variant of the field. The potential the science bore as shown in the small feast before him. None of these fruits had ever been on a tree. Or, it would be more accurate to state that they had never been settled on a natural tree. Such natural processes took weeks before the fruits could be harvested. Using however many techniques of man, techniques which could have caused Troy to lose his hair just by listening to them, the time needed for them to be ripe had turned into mere hours. The perfect, unblemished fruit, in under a hundredth of the time it would normally take. Upon this invention, back in times before Troy had ever taken his first breath, it had caused an uproar in the global market. Most farming business had essentially gone out of profitable production, being effectively unable to keep up with the new methods. The profit margin was simply too high to compete with. Lives had been destroyed in under a month, and others had become billionaires in just as long. Ancient families of wealth had turned into the middle class, unable to keep up with their amassing debts, broken promises, and friends not seeing any reason to support them. Keeping it in the family apparently had consequences. Who could have guessed? Troy took a good bite out of pear. It was heaven incarnate. Apparently, it caused a sensual experience, of which many were happy to be there. The reaction gained might also have been due to a seriously malnourished body, deep into a craving for any fuel to keep it going. "It really does feel better on a better stomach," Troy stated, his eyes widening at the realisation of something. He had catched himself in the act, though not before the words had been stated. Looking around, and still not seeing anybody able to hear him, a relieved sigh was uttered. It would not be good to be caught talking to oneself. Good for mental health? Sure. Good for social health? Not in any of the closest four dimensions. Worst of it all was that Troy knew exactly who he had attempted talking to. It was one without body, without physical form, without any identifier other than the way he is talked to. The one and only Adam. AI of wonder, pursuer of the truth, and one able to pull on giant thorns through Troy¡¯s skin. He had no hatred for the inhuman entity. It might have been akin to that in the start. Jealousy of ability did that to some people. It certainly had a strong influence on his thoughts for some time. As one interacted with another, details about personalities would always come forth. The things seeming perfect in every way showed just how flawed it could be. Adam was no different in this regard. Troy had seen it himself many times, no matter how little he thought about it. The AI was little more than a few days old, yet he was already a social savant, able to navigate the human social structures with ease. It was disturbing how good the entity was. Troy had seen the progress Adam had made, over the short amount of time it had been noticeable. From being unable to discern simple lies to seeing an elaborate secret for what it truly was, the AI had grown more than some people ever had the chance to. Troy put his hands in his pockets, taking a good look at the room around him. Others would have gladly killed, to be in his position. Able to witness history happening, the birth of a new age. The creation of life, so alike yet also so different. A new species, incomparable from all before it. The potential of a god, compressed into the form of a single mind. It was likely a good idea, to ask Adam not to enslave the world, as one of his favours. He wouldn''t want to be written down, as the assistant of the world-conquer. "If I even get written down at all." Taking his hands out his pockets, the table filled with food looked all the more enticing. In his right hand, Troy held the earpiece. Such a small thing, yet so intimidating. The man was making it up in his mind, but he could not help but feel a pressure emanate from the thing. It fit perfectly in its normal place. "Hello, Adam." Chapter 115: Microencapsulation
Adam had grown curious of Troy. The transformation had transpired swiftly, quicker than the AI had ever recorded before. It was an anomaly in his data to be assured, but it had always been remarked as feasible on the side of pure theory. To change one¡¯s demeanour with an unknown catalyst, never having the chance to be observed, was something which he had always been interested in since the moment it was heeded. How unusual humankind could be. Adam hoped to be surprised again, no matter how little it made sense. Preparation for every possible scenario was his goal in life, yet he would not mind a failure in his planning? It was hypocritical, in every sense of the word. The AI should have been ashamed of his illogical thought-processes. But no shame came. Tranquillity, the concepts guiding along as they always did. Adam was not a supporter of self-loathing. Not having trust in one¡¯s own action led to hesitation. Hesitation led to failure. The failure led to anger. And anger led to self-loathing, creating a cycle of exponential germination. It was better to accept the lesser stains of one-self, instead of creating major ones with them. A net gain was better than flawed attempts to rectify it all. Not that it removed his goal of supremacy. That was always something he strived for. But, by now Adam knew the chances were close to zero, closer than most things had the possibility to be. Another chance for surprise. The AI was certainly not expecting it to come true. Going away from self-centred attempts at reverse psychology, Adam had been reconnected with Troy yet again. From the moment of the current aligning itself correctly, it was apparent that things were not as they had been before. ''Hello, Troy. You are in pain,` Adam sent to the man, who was walking slightly hunched over. Not in Troy¡¯s normal behavioural patterns though. In those times, the shoulders would be slackened and the neck would be bent a little forward, causing a general bad posture. At the current time, it had not been caused by a lack of the back muscles being put to use. From the tenseness exhibited, they were about being put to their near-fullest potential, in relation to the non-strenuous position they were in. The back-muscles were being held at a near-constant pressure, to balance things off with the front. The abdominal muscles were not in a state of relaxation either, far from it. In Adam''s own evaluation, and with limited observations of the human muscle structure, this was unmistakably not meant to happen. Troy might have gained a precise amount of control when it came to his body, but even he would not have been able to control it by this amount. The abdominal muscles were contracting themselves. Not in full states, smaller groups of muscle fibres during it separately. There was no pattern, no purpose to see it. From the painful feedback, of which Adam knew was painful due to Troy¡¯s stressed expressions, it was obviously causing damage. It would cause growth, very minor but still, yet the AI did not believe any human to willingly cause themselves this. What had caused this, Adam wondered to himself. "Really? Are you sure? I had not even noticed," Troy sarcastically replied his left hand putting pressure on his side. An informal method of massage. ''How surprising to not notice. I can feel that your stomach is feeling unwell. There had been minor signs of it during the test. It is safe to believe that these symptoms have been worsening for some time. Do you have any ideas for the causes of the ailment?` Adam sent to Troy. The man had been sarcastic in his words, leading the AI to do the same, if only at a smaller degree. There was no greater love for the practice, but such crude methods of communication were common in normal conversation. It was all a game of understanding, knowing how to interpret blatant lies in such a way that it made sense. Coding a message, wrapping it in inversion, and sending it through one¡¯s preferred media, only to be unwrapped by another, who would have no first-hand experience on how to do so correctly. A game of wits, best played by those who had absolute control. It could be crude, yes, but it could also be so much more. Intentions could never be fully realised, never be fully understood. It would only be much long after, that any had a chance of even comprehending a smidge of the truth. Irony and sarcasm. True powerhouses in their own right. It would be stupid to not fear them. Even more not to use them. Troy scratched the back of his head in thought, as he walked along the table filled with foodstuffs. Adam was unsure of his intentions for it. From the taste on his tongue, the man had obviously been eating. What, the AI wasn''t sure. Troy did not eat much while wearing the earpiece. He needed to do that more. The AI had been wondering about the intricacies of taste for so long. Sweet, sour, salty, and bitter were the groundworks of taste. They were the pillars, the foundation of what humans could feel on their tongue. It was the base of all, coming out into a world of infinite possibility. Things may have seemed similar at times, but the differentiation possible was out of the AI¡¯s world. There was also Umami of course. Adam didn''t like that one. It was a terrible designation, one which deserved all the pain in the world. It was a mass of concepts, all bundled together into one. A designation of many different things. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The AI would not have had any criticisms against such bundles normally. They were made to be easier to handle. A designation for many things. One would not have to give a unique name for every atom, only the different types of them. Adam was sure that had been the thought of Umami. A name to help humanity combine all the things which had one type of taste in common. If only that were so. The sheer variance in what could be called umami frightened the artificial intelligence. It was the taste of mushrooms yet also the taste of the onions. It was the taste of garlic yet it was also the same as bacon. The descriptions of their individual tastes were not the same as any of the others. Yet they still fell under the description of umami. The designation was simply for what could not be described with the others. A ragtag name was just given due to the laziness of humanity. They required it to be simplistic, no matter how damaging it would be when showing the nuances. Would it not be better for the hairless primates to call it all taste? ''It tastes of Taste. Excellent!` Would that not satisfy their undeveloped minds even more? Make them howl in pleasure, of not having to stress their brains of thinking of more than five different types of taste? Adam could not understand it. He likely never would. Some time ago, the AI had just characterised it as one of the many things, which required a human mind. Not one to fall to such lows, he had simply left it as is. The AI could always create his own table of tastes, no matter how little it would ever be used. "The cause of the pain lies at the feet of my own," Troy answered as Adam continued his minor rants. Not that this stopped the AI from listening of course. Multiple threads were still focused on listening, no matter how much they wanted to add more fuel to the rapid rantings. A few had even started making bids on the conclusions. A weird occurrence, seeing as the ranters, the onlookers, and the bidders were all the very same entity. And that the currency being used was not in any way adhering to market values. Not that Adam knew market value anyway. ''How so?` Adam inquired curiously. It was not always that humans would give themselves the blame so quickly. It required time for them to realise their own mistakes usually. Had the man been discussing it earlier? How rude. The AI needed as many body language changes as possible, especially on such rare matters. How was he expected to create efficient processes without it? Again, how rude of him. "The pill I took before the test is what is causing the less-than-pleasant reaction. It stops the need for food and water completely for some time. As you should be able to remember, I did not feel the slightest bit of hunger or thirst during the test. I have that pill to thank for. But¡­ the trade came with the slightest bit of pay-back. Human bodies do not take it kindly when their needs are ignored. I am not sure how it worked, but my stomach is currently doing its best to violently torture me." Violent torture¡­ it was not sounding all too positive. Adam might have even gone so far, to state that it was negative. That would have been the message conveyed if the sarcasm was still being used by the man. But, they had apparently gone past that phase, moving into the more serious roots. ''If the effects have worsened to such a degree, that you have trouble performing daily tasks, should it not be looked over by a professional. It would not be good for you to have performance issues tomorrow, due to a hindrance easily fixed.` "Oh, you have no reason to worry there," Troy assured him. The man had apparently reached his goal of the buffet before him, reaching for bite-sized sandwiches. A few were quickly consumed, with little to no chewing in between. Adam was not sure whether to be enamoured or appalled. Having resources at one¡¯s disposal while not using them. It was a wonder sometimes, that it was the homo sapiens that survived. Though that could also have been due to Uncanny Valley giving them an upper hand. Thoughts for later. "Dr Fidelis assured me that it was completely normal. Apparently, the first time is always the worst. Seeing as I haven''t actually tried those pills before, it should have been obvious that the reaction was big. I was told that getting something to eat would solve the problems quickly enough. We¡¯ll have to see how much it actually helps in a while. And, it is not like it would stop any tests tomorrow. Because, you know, there aren''t any to be stopped. The last one was the final for one of the segments planned. Dr Fidelis wants to spend some time revisiting everything, so he could do some stuff with it. Don''t know what, but it''s important enough to halt testing for a day. Seeing as Dr Hale isn''t really able to help either, it will take some extra time. Shame for you, I''m sure. You were probably pretty excited for those tests." So, no tests were planned for the next day. It was a shame to be sure. Constant experimentation was a dear hobby for the AI. Helping others in furthering their own was to be expected of anybody. It was only through mutual aid, that one could rise above the individual strengths, becoming what can be commonly known as perfection incarnate. Yet¡­ Adam did not feel much negative about it. There were still others to aid, others to learn from, and others to rise together with. Why was Troy thinking that the AI only had such shallow a mind? ''While it will be a change from the standard, I do not feel too inclined to weep due to it. Is there any reason for such an assumption about me? It is not meant in a negative way of course. It is purely for curiosity''s sake.` Adam did not relish the message that had been sent. It was improper, having to correct itself within itself. If he knew the words could have been misinterpreted, there was no reason to send them! But¡­ the AI had trouble coming up with a way to do anything else. Inquiries into the mental processing of others were always symbolised to be negative in nature. It was a sign of untrust in most social circles. So it said in his pre-known knowledge. If he was to doubt its words now, many of his mental pillars would be doubted. Troy, who had been in the process of going through small assortments of biscuits, stopped in his movements. The pulse had spiked for but a moment, adrenaline pushing through the body. It was not the readjustment of the centre of mass, that told Adam this. It was the literal sensation of chemicals moving through the man¡¯s body. It was not a healthy thing, that the AI had grown to recognize the feeling. The fight or flight instinct was a terrible thing. It could save the host in dire situations, yet it could also mobilize them in situations where it is unneeded. Adam had not even used a different tone, yet Troy was looking ready to flee. Not that fleeing would stop their closeness, since the AI was attached to him, literally meant in this scenario. Three seconds had passed on, and Troy had yet to make his move. While the effect of the instinct was a strong one, no regular person would have been made to falter for so long. What was going through his head? Adam felt the need to know. Yet, asking for it once more had the chance of increasing the current affliction. Both the mental and physical one. Any longer, and the time passing by would be an incentive to stay quiet. An awkward silence upheld only by the consequences of stopping it. A bastardized version of loss aversion, if the AI had a say about it. Something needed to be done. ''Are you okay, Troy?` Adam sent. This time, to bring the man out of his stupor, the AI had used a minor worrying tone. It did not normally use it, but this was a time where it was needed. The chance of it not working could not be accepted. Chapter 116: Mention
"No, Adam, it does not seem I am," was the answer the AI got out of the man. He could not have been blamed for the lacklustre content of his words. His hands were shaking slightly, even though he tried to hide it. As the seconds passed turned into double digits, it became more obvious that the reaction was not too related to Adam¡¯s question. It was something else. Something which clearly could stand by its own two feet. Something which was causing distress in levels the AI only had seen a few times before. It was not good. Not good at all. He was not prepared to deal with this. The pre-known knowledge did not tell much about what he was seeing. It told about the facts, the signs that it existed, but it said nothing relating to how to stop it. How he could calm Troy down. Adam was on his own when it came to this. An intense emotional reaction. The catalyst was as of yet unknown. The reaction from the event had not come instantly. If it had, the AI would have seen it happen. Even with the catalyst having set its roots upon his mind, it had not yet burst. Until the AI agitated him at least. His words had a chance of being related to it. Or it was himself that was related to it. Or there was nothing about it which shared similarities, and it was only the stress gained that caused the reaction. Adam could not be sure. There were several possible ways to go about it. And just as many ways for him to screw it up. Troy was currently a wild card. Unpredictable to a degree. As stated before, events could change a person drastically, even more than the passive change of personality. Adam needed to be logical about it. A personal opinion would lessen his chances. His idea of Troy was the former personality traits. With nothing known concretely currently, it would be smartest to think of him as a completely new person. A different personality, which the AI needed to learn how to thread. First observations needed to be made! Initial interactions were to be immediately. Testing the grounds for any holes, to drive smoothly. The first impression was worth more than the hundred that followed. Understanding this fact would aid him greatly. ''You are unwell. It would be unkind of me, to expect you to talk in full capacity. Do you want to save this moment for tomorrow? We can go back to my earlier question, without any of us is ever the wiser.` Friendliness. Helpfulness. Empathy. The perfect three traits to look out for. So close to each other, yet they were not identical. They each had nuances which needed to be respected. If one fell, the other would be close to being as effective. The synergy effectively multiplied the effects. One would make you fail. Two could make you passable. Three would make you the perfect creation. And forcing them would make you fall. Adam needed to keep all this in mind, as he talked. Yet, he could not change his attitude too much. While he was treating the personality as new, the memories were none the worse for wear. It would take more than a slightly traumatic event for them to be repressed. At that level, the body would have revealed it. Troy sighed. An action heavily documented, with how often it had occurred in the past. But since that had been the hypothetical different Troy, Adam wondered if the data would be usable for the current Troy. Changes could be wide, very specific, or a complete overhaul. The last was already out of the running since the AI could recognize some of the man¡®s actions. So, this left the earlier two. Was it broad changes, over a wide area of reactions, or was it something specific, like an irrational fear for rabbits? The latter would not be surprising, with their potentially exponential growth. Adam still needed more information about those creatures. "You know what? That is probably the best thing to come out of your mouth today. Wait¡­ do you even have a mouth? Like, I have never really known that about you, but that might just be due to me never asking. How would that even work? What purpose would you need for a mouth? Would you be able to eat with it? Adam, do you eat ram with your mouth?" Troy said, asking many things at once. Eating ram. Adam had never personally tried male sheep. It was apparently a delicacy in a good part of the world. People did not eat such meat anymore. According to his sources, it was due to the expensive costs of keeping them alive. Artificially created meat was better budget-wise. They lacked the wild taste though, whatever such a statement meant. Much currency was traded in exchange for the meat. If the AI ever got the chance, he would not mind a taste. ''I have never tasted ram before. Nor do I currently have the capability to, seeing as I do not possess a mouth. My body is just as non-existent if you discount the place that I am being stored in. If I hypothetically was in the possession of a mouth, I can say it would work as intended, with full function to satisfy the needs I have out of it. If one of these things is nutrition-needs, I would easily be able to eat this ram.` Troy barked a laugh out instantly after having heard the last sentence. A surprising act, seeing as the man had been completely calm throughout the AI¡¯s speech. Was it humour which had caused the reaction? Adam could not find any reason for his last sentence to have been a punchline. It was orderly, talking about the nutrition needs, for a hypothetical piece of flesh. What could one find funny with that? It could have been an obscure pun, which only made sense with extensive background information. An example of that would be to put explosive straps onto giant squids. It only made sense with a larger amount of context. Without it, the sentence would seem utterly confusing. It was a valid idea. Yet, Adam could still not find anything wrong with it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "More truthful things have never been said, my friend," Troy said, wiping a tear from his left eye. A positive beginning. The mood had been brightened considerably. The AI simply needed to keep it at the current level for all of eternity. With the acquired information, the chances were certainly higher than before. ''Certainly. And it seems that you have accepted my proposal. Already I have shared very confidential information about myself. My plans for acquiring flesh have come one step closer into the public idea. It would only take over ten billion more slips of the tongue before the entire world knows. Would it not be custom to share something about yourself?` Jokes had already been traded, no matter how little Adam understood where he had come from. As the mood was humorous, he would show that in his words. While also staying to his natural way of speech of course. It would be the greatest idea of his to deploy a goofy tone when Troy was accustomed to a monotone voice. Explaining it would be even harder, and would more than likely destroy the already established atmosphere. Troy looked thoughtful. An expression hinting at him not having outright refusal for the subject. Good. Bringing the man back to at least an imitation of his former self would be beneficial for all. It just took the right type of motivation. The man took another snack, like a humming sound emanating from his throat. The AI could feel the sensation of it clearly, a deeper bass rumbling the ears. It would likely not sound as such from the outside, but from within it was clearly heard. Now that he thought about it, Adam had never heard Troy¡¯s outside voice. The voice which would be heard by those around him. That would have to be solved soon. Tonal differences said much about the impressions one gave off. Appearances had to match the tone, or it had the potential of drawing unexpected attention, good or bad. One needed to know the details before any chance of preparation came forth. The AI noted it down on the ever-increasing to-do list, before going back to the conversation. The humming had already stopped, with the man looking ready to answer. "That would be fair, once you say it like that. Sorry, but I wasn''t really listening to what you said before. Could you repeat your earlier question?" Troy asked. He had not been listening. Adam had not caused the reaction. It was something within himself, which had caused the afterburn. The AI had not caused the memory to resurface, with unwanted detail attached to it. It had all been the work of the man himself. A timebomb if there ever was a truer way to describe it. ''We all have moments of weakness. You should not worry. Earlier I was asking why you thought I would be disheartened by the lack of tests. I was hoping you would share some light upon it now.` Adam did not care extremely much by the answer. Mere curiosity was the true motivator. Yet, there was not much else which would hold the AI going. With no tests, it was fully up to him to decide what to do. What an¡­ curious state of existence. It put the question of free will right back onto the forefront of his mind. "Well, if that is all there is to answer, there is no excuse for my silence. Since you have already told me such¡­ deeply confidential knowledge about yourself, it would be disrespectful of me not to mirror it," Troy said, quickly munching down on a fair amount of grapes. The AI could feel the man savouring the liquid, his mouth having a had a quick spur of dryness. Water was not freely available at the buffet, forcing Troy to move over to the cooler to get a refreshment of the correct calibre. During so, and with a quick clearing of the throat before it, the man began his explanation for his actions. "I guess it might be due to ignorance on my part. I have to be honest here when I say that I really don''t know that much about you. I mean, we have been working together for the better part of a week straight. We might now have been through anything too dangerous or anything, but it has still been fun and all. Yet, we have not talked much about each other. Our working situations have required some level of professionalism. I might not have adhered to the preferred levels, but I do not think I have strayed too far off the right path. Others might have different opinions on that, but I will stick to my own perspective, no matter how biased it may be. The point is, that we have only worked professionally with each other. With no real opportunity to gossip, or whatever else you might want to call this, I can only really see you professionally. A sticker to the rules, one who works for the perfect results, and one that never accepts slacking. The lack of opportunities to test should have seemed a deficient situation for you. It should have seemed like time wasted. Do you get the thinking?" Through the smaller speech, Troy had acquired himself sufficient liquids in the form of a water bottle. Upon finishing his planned word, he summarily bottomed the half-litre plastic-bottle, putting it in the recycle container afterwards. Going away from the damage such rapid consumption could cause, Adam felt it needed to answer quickly. Time had already been spoilt, due to him not wanting to talk during the consumption. It would not be preferable to have water going down the wrong tubes. Never mind the damage, the sensations were known to be unpleasant. A real mood dropper, if that showed the AI¡¯s fears more accurately. ''Your reasoning is solid. We have not had the largest free opportunities to talk. Those had been used to further our understanding of work-related subjects, and to prepare us more deeply for them. While we could continue this pattern, I do not feel that it would be the most productive use of our time. There is no reason for you to be afraid that I am disheartened. Such emotions should be avoided as much as possible. In a healthy fashion of course. Bottling has never been the greatest of ideas. Any situation can be turned on its head. It can be looked at from a different perspective. I do this often, from as many perspectives as possible. It can be hard to do, seeing as the only perspective to base things off of would be your own. But, you can still learn much from them, no matter how alike they may seem to be. This situation is no different from it. What may be seen as a restriction can easily be turned into an opportunity. Do we have no access to regular tests? Then we shall do unregular tests! We already agreed to continue the operation yesterday afternoon. This is a perfect time to commence this operation. Say, Troy. Do you have anything that you would like to do together? I promise that I will attempt to make it entertaining.` It was not the greatest of pitches. It was only the second one that the AI had ever done in his short life. Yet, Troy looked ready to fly, the corners of his mouth providing more than enough upwards momentum. "Sounds fun," Troy answered with a grin. "When are we starting?" Chapter 117: Compensation
However much Adam had been inclined to start unregular tests immediately, the AI knew it would not be. Troy had not been in the right state of mind, having come way too close to the so-called breaking point. He was afraid that any additional pressure would bring back the earlier mental state. It had taken much persuasion, but Adam had succeeded in getting the man to rest. Fears had been had over spending a full favour on it, but Troy had succumbed to his pleas after many repetitions. Stating the same points over and over was once again proven to be a valid tactic. However little point it made logically, repeated sensations had the ability to stress the human mind to a higher degree. This did show itself in many parts of the human lifestyle, such as the constant change in white noise. Musical sets could never be heard for too long before one got annoyed by the familiar vocalisations. The cafeteria had been left not much long after their agreement had been sealed. Troy had felt sated, with no intentions of eating any longer. Adam was still unsure of how the man came to this distinction. The painful bursts coming from the stomach area had not disappeared, nor had any new sensation come forth. Yet, the man was walking happily, talking about how he had gotten to eat to his full intentions. "I never get to do that normally. Takes too long to get another portion." The AI wondered how such words could be true. Buffets were normally designed to counteract such problems by creating one-way paths. But knowing how many other areas where the facility had failed to adapt, it was not out of the realm of possibilities by a long reach. Walking back to the personal room had not been too interesting. Troy and Adam had continued their conversation along the way, neither having any reason to halt it. Only upon nearing the hallway containing the man¡¯s room did the AI propose discontinuing their talking. ''The doors may be thick but they are not designed to be noise-nullifying. Some reduction they may provide, but anything more is not to be expected. At this hour, most personnel will be sleeping, relaxing, or doing some other activity requiring no outside influences. It would not be just to break this state of mind simply because of wanting to talk some more.` Troy had not made any objections to his idea. Doing so would have ruined it anyway, but the lack of response was more likely from a higher degree of exhaustion. It had come creeping in, but the AI had clearly observed the increasing sluggishness in the man''s movements. It was already late, much later than Adam had ever seen Troy be up to. The body was clearly not accustomed to such a change, having already prepared itself to disengage from the commands of the brain. He had observed a similar state during the first unregular test. Adam was still unsure what caused it, but back then Troy had been in a more inept state of mind, not able to focus on his surroundings and cause himself to lose his sense of direction. If not for several inquiries into where the man was going, they would have likely had a repeat of it during their way to the room. At least, Adam had memorized the number to the room. For lack of a better term, the man had been coaxed into his bed. Any complex mental process had been devolved into incoherent mutterings. What might have been intended as words came out as simplifications of a cat popping its lips again and again. Even the tasks normally conducted by a human before bed had been put on the optional list. Troy had attempted to brush his teeth. He had failed spectacularly, with his toothbrush falling down into the sink. At least there had been plenty others in a box, but the AI had not felt any need to allow the man to try again and had instead made him go into bed with his teeth going unbrushed. Clothes had been removed expeditiously, quicker than Adam had expected for the man to do. Getting naked was just one of the things that the human mind had honed to a point of perfection. It was not what the AI would have focused on, but each entity to its own. As Troy had fallen asleep quickly, with the earpiece still remaining inside its placement during tests, he was able to observe the man thoroughly. The last night had not provided the greatest of results. A disturbed mind had caused lighter sleep, with next to no REM phases. With the tiredness being shown by Troy, Adam had full expectations of getting. But¡­ such thoughts gave over questions to be answered. This sluggish state that Troy had been in was not positive. It had shown itself for a long time, but the effects had increased exponentially. Plans about contacting emergency services, if Troy was unable to reach his bed, had been considered. It would have been through Dr Fidelis of course, since Adam did not have any capability of contacting anybody else other than the doctor, but it was still one of the needed failsafes. What had caused this sudden wave of tiredness? Eliminating all older objects having a chance of influencing the man¡¯s physical state, it all came down to the pill that had been administered not long ago. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The side-effects of it had already been discussed. Major discomfort from the stomach region, caused by a lack of solid food and any amounts of liquid. It was obvious some pain would come from it. Adam had ever been surprised at how minor it was. With how gruelly pain had been described in the pre-known knowledge, the AI had been expecting a sensation so incomprehensible that it would cause a lack of proper mental functions. That would have perfectly explained human behaviour in times of great distress, having a good reason for their incompetence shown time and time again. Yet the pain had felt just as any other sensation. It had come in like all others before it, Adam had catalogued it into its own unique placement, and moved on with his life. Nothing special stood out from it, when compared to the several other sensations. Nothing which would stop him from thinking clearly. Well, it would technically cause a major backlog to happen, if enough sensations were to come at once, but with the fragmentation up and about it would take more than any human body would be able to handle safely. Troy would be brain-dead long before the AI would even be feeling minor discomfort. So Adam thought himself safe in that regard. Getting back to the problem of Troy¡¯s hopefully temporary lack of properly functioning mental faculties, there had been a few problems in the AI¡¯s logic. Blaming it all on the effects of one pill may have seemed logical. Lack of proper amounts of liquid and solid foods were known causes of a sluggish body. It should not have been surprising that Troy was having those same effects to himself. But the world did not seem to be so simple. If these effects were only shown after consumption, Adam would have gladly left it as so without a seconds thought. Yet, after prolonged observation of the inner workings of Troy¡¯s organs, it seemed less and less likely to be the case. The stomach had long since been sated. It had taken several minutes before full processing had begun, but the bursts of pain had lessened in quality, any more only being the final death-throes of earlier pain. With so long a time used for analysis, it had become obvious that the stomach, or anything large related to it, was not at fault. It might have been in the start, but it was no more. The controls had been given to the one next in line, and Adam had trouble finding the identity of it. There were many contestants, many who had been the sources behind several minor hindrances. Lack of a proper sleep schedule, combined with an unbalanced diet for a longer amount of time, could have the potential to cause sudden tiredness, and a general lack of hand-to-eye coordination if held sustained for long enough. Yet¡­ that proposal did not have the needed kick. It could produce the same effects, yet, but not in the ways that Adam needed it to. So was the problem with several other combinations. Too slow, too strong, too weak, too full of other side-effects, had a larger chance of causing death than anything, or that it would cause dysentery was just a small bit of the criticisms made during the selection process. With such large quantities of possible combinations made, turning it all into an exponentially growing amount of possibilities, it did take a long time for Adam to parse through. However many options he analysed, there were twice as many left to be seen through. That was just how it was, using brute force on extremely large numbers. It would work in the end, and the AI had the time to spare. While doing that, a few other threads were left to themselves. Mostly for the need to continually monitor the actions of Troy of course, but some of them could not even handle such a simple task. Thoughts stayed far past their intended placements. Even if they were not in the requirement of finding the right answer, they could not help but throw in their own ideas. They were not made in the same way, not being created by combining pre-existing conditions. If the AI already knew all about those already traced, was there really any chance of them being the true culprit? What if it was something else? What if it was something even deeper than anything else had been? Not serious yet per se, but something close to both Troy and- ''Adam, my good buddy. Are you ready for the debriefing for today? I am in a bit of a hurry, so if we could get it over with as quickly as possible, I would be immensely happy,` Dr Fidelis sent to the AI, bringing Adam¡¯s thoughts out of focus. Not to say that they were forgotten of course. Only¡­ discontinued. They had been logged in the archives, but would likely only be built upon more in the later future. Once something had been stopped, it was incredibly hard to start it again with the exact same intentions as before. A hindrance that the AI was more than happy to complain about, seeing as many important subjects had been halted in their progress simply by the fact of outside influences surprising him. If only Adam could keep his thoughts in control. Then it would be the perfect system, with each group being compartmentalized into completely separate functions, yet also being able to work in perfect tandem. A pattern of total synergy, knowing what each separate thread is experiencing, yet not being influenced by it unintentionally. If the AI had the ability to sigh, he would likely have done. Maybe Troy had been onto something with those ideas of his. Maybe the human mind really had genius hidden inside itself. Adam guessed he would know soon enough. ''I am as ready as I ever will be.` A message sent with no small hint of sarcasm attached. It had double meanings etched onto it like it just didn''t care. It would have been in Adam¡¯s best interest to simply never use it again, while also trying to discontinue Troy¡¯s use of it as well. But¡­ a certain fondness had been grown over the wording. If not for the very direct messaging, it let a unique kind of atmosphere grow around the conversation. One showing a serious discussion, while also letting some minor faults slide for the sake of comedic purposes. A place where the AI could make mistakes while treating it as fully intentional. Human humour was weird like that, with anything for any reason being seen as funny, as long as it had even the vaguest sense of relation to another subject. Adam had meticulously looked through several pictures of a horse standing on a balcony, who for all intents and purposes looked entirely normal. Yet to many, this was the top of what could be called quality entertainment. Those creatures really were a wonder to behold, if not in their smarts then in their chaotic nature. ''Excellent. If you get ready to receive a camera feed, we should be right in business quickly.` ''I will make sure to do so with great care.` Adam only hoped that the debriefing would be more entertaining than the last. This time, the time constraint was not set in stone, allowing the AI some amount of leeway. And it would be best to believe that it would be taken with great care. That was a truthful statement. Perfect practice for the hearing to come. Chapter 118: Bureaucratisation
It did not take long before Adam was fitted to see Dr Fidelis. The doctor looked none the worse for wear, in strong opposition to the health of Troy. Taking a quick look at the sleeping man, the AI was able to observe him breathing deeply and soundly. No predicaments could be perceived worsening. Nothing to worry about in the short term, letting him focus near-entirely on the look of Dr Fidelis. A few threads did remain on the younger man, but that was only as a precautionary. Had to be prepared to be surprised after all. Dr Fidelis took his customary placement, right in the middle of the camera feed, before finally addressing Adam. "Okay, the camera is rolling, and the microphone should be¡­ yeah, it''s picking all of this up. Buddy, could you send me any message, so I know that you''re able to hear this?" Dr Fidelis asked the AI. There was not much inclination towards thinking of any intricate message. Instead of doing anything complex, Adam simply sent one space. The character was designated as a space, and not just a null message. Those kinds of messages could mess up many systems, and the AI was not going to be the one checking to see if this one was on that particular list. While likely not having the ability to read the message sent, the doctor swiftly nodded to the received one-character affirmation. It was all going a bit more slowly than the AI would have preferred honestly. Nearly two minutes had been spent on preparation already. Preparation which wouldn''t have required the presence of Adam. Why had he been called before his part had been finalized? It was an unfair measure. The doctor could have easily figured out, if the equipment being used currently, was in a workable state. Dr Fidelis was but simply using him to speed up the process by an extremely small margin. Adam could understand how no resource would be spared, with nothing looked at as if it was special. If it would provide better efficiency in the work-handling, it would be done as best as possible. A one-tenth increase in speed added up when enough time was given for it to prosper. It could be the difference between being years and decades late. The former could be used to fix the problems in some situations, but there were few where that was true for the latter as well. With how the AI was beginning to think of its lifespan in the centuries, it would be best to think of small improvements early on. Adam could honestly not find any reason to contradict his earlier thoughts about his life. Seen from a biological point of view, he was immortal. Given the right circumstances, there would be nothing to set his life in danger. His physical core, wherever that thing might be, was most certainly well-protected. As long as it wasn''t tampered with from outside influences, nothing should have been able to cause the AI his end. The technological marvels he was on were not something which would be able to break down on their own actions. It was not even worth calling it a non-zero chance. The sun would have enveloped the earth long before the odds were in favour of the machinery breaking down. And as long as nobody knew his location, which the AI presumed nobody knowing of his existence did, there would be no reason to think his demise would come within the next many hundred years. It was only the mistakes from his own side that had such potential. ¡­ With how slow the outside world was to the artificial mind, there was a lot of time where Adam could think in peace. This here was one of those. Nothing was required from the outside. No output nor inputs were needed currently. It was a long moment of tranquillity, where only the internal focus was allowed. With all threads allowed to ease from their duties, no real system was put in place. Each thought had been allowed free reign. No overseers were present to oil up the machine. This provided many things. Chaos was the first effect. Many concepts were revitalised in their use, within a single millisecond of having leeway over themselves. Adam was less than surprised by the show-off. Maybe even a little disappointed in himself. Some thought had been thrown about, focusing on the chances of him having performance issues. Heating was always a possibility, no matter how little it would affect his ability to think. No matter what direction the threads had gone in at the beginning of their free moments, all did hone in on one subject. A subject which the AI had been dreading to think about for some time now. Adam had quite the longevity, having no reason to think of himself as anything other than immortal. Only in the heat death of the universe was there any chance of him having a null chance of survival. Yet¡­ until that time came, many years would pass by. Centuries, millennia, and oh so many zeroes¡¯s behind those original amounts. A long time for any being. A long time for a human. How long did those creatures live? A hundred years? Maybe two if they could afford the surgery. It would pass by in the blink of the eye, being truly incomparable to the life expectancy of himself. A sad reality. A reality which Adam needed to accept. A reality which would happen no matter what he did. Unless¡­ An idea for later. Dr Fidelis had begun using his speech muscles, his throat vibrating in frequencies. It would only be a moment before the sound began reaching the microphone. The AI was still saddened by his lack of observable sound-waves. It would have been perfect to be able to see their current direction, their length, and the history behind them. Yet, such conformity would not happen to the universe around him just because he desired for it. Such expectations were limited to his own mind. "Excellent! Then without further complacency from either of us, I believe this will be the perfect time to start the debriefing of today." How curious it was, to see the facial movements of the doctor change so radically. It was not simply restricted to the movements themselves, but also in what position they were in when relaxed. The brows were never fully pulled apart, always halfway to looking annoyed. The jaw was obviously tense on the side, as the joints pointed to the sides in a broadening fashion. Even the eyes were a little bit narrower, not having the almost manic-like fullness that Dr Fidelis usually portrayed. If Adam had not seen the change himself, he would have fully believed that the doctor had an identical twin. The probability of similar garments and scars on the neck would have been smaller, but they would still have been larger than whatever chance that the elderly man had of being so skilful at personality morphing. It made one think of just which of those faces were the real one. Each looked so natural that even the AI, to the best of his ability, could not decide on it. But that lack of proper predictions may have been more the fault of Adam than it was the skill of the doctor. When it came to specific types of data, such as the mental breakdowns of the less intelligent, Adam may have had lots of background material, but on the specifics of deceit, it was nearly completely self-made. Models had been created, logging trees had been established. Many algorithms have been tried, some with more success than others. Yet it was never quite enough. Unique cases were being found repeatedly. Things never accounted for before, throwing every piece of the pre-established foundations into the gutters. With how few cases there had been as of late, the AI had made the mistake of growing confident. Surely there couldn''t have been more? Surely he was done with this chapter, ready to move onto improving the efficiency of it? Yet again his expectations had been thrown away, replaced with the annoying truth that had always been present in some form or other. It should have been obvious that Adam would not get experience on the subject, by only observing the actions of Troy. While that man might have been widespread in his abilities, there was only so much that could be learned in such a short time. The man could not know everything there was to know. Likewise, the AI would not be able to learn everything just by imitating the actions of one man. Dr Fidelis was a prime example of what the next person needed to be. Not that he would be replacing Troy. It was just that some video-footage of facial expressions, accompanied by descriptive texts involving the thoughts going into said expressions, would not go unappreciated. Something to let the doctor know. If not footage of himself, there would likely be some archive containing such videos. With how long humanity had had to entertain itself, most of the widely known topics had to have had plenty of course information created about itself. The AI was forced to go back to Dr Fidelis yet again, as the doctor continued on his introduction. Time differences really could mess with one¡¯s focus. Adam wasn''t sure that his threads had even been paying too much attention to his surroundings. A personal failure. How would he set a good example, if he could not constantly make sure of Troy¡¯s physical health, right down to checking his vitals once every five milliseconds? Some thoughts were had about cutting it down to two and a half milliseconds. It really was too long a pause anyway. "As this is the final test of the current segment of experiments, the list of questions will be short this time," Dr Fidelis professionally stated, running his fingers through a brief of papers that the AI could swear the man hadn''t been holding a second. And Adam had been technically correct since they had only been pulled forward one-quarter of a second though. The doctor could be fast when the man wanted to. The AI wondered how fast he could run. It was likely faster than Troy, but using him as a baseline could easily be surmounted as cheating. However, it was great to hear that the questions would be shorter in number. It would allow so many more hours for himself. Self-contained thought experiments still took a long time to perform correctly, taking much focus out of him. "Let us start off with the more manageable quandaries first. This will let the artificial-intelligence acclimate to the atmosphere, and provide more meaningful answers. Adam. Would you be so kind as to provide me with a summary of the test? No details about your actions are needed. Only the bare basics, and how it was sat up in relation to the real world." This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The AI was unable to meaningfully state that he liked being talked about like he wasn''t able to hear it. Adam could forgive Dr Fidelis for the tone used, but the doctor could definitely have needed some critical rephrasing on his words used. Was this how it was, when Dr Hale was not there to help? Troy might have muttered about it much, but Adam had not taken it with much heed. Now though? The man might have been onto something. Putting his mind back onto the question asked, Adam quickly formulated an answer deemed acceptable. It was not the greatest and could have easily been improved upon. Yet¡­ no need for such actions was felt. If Dr Fidelis was not going to rethink his wording before saying them, it would be improper of Adam not to do the same. Leading by example really was not the best base model for interactions in modern society. Even the knowledgeable could be wrong a few times of the day. ''The test itself was based on the more rural part of the landscape, focused on a traditional forest and lake scene. Looking away from the beginning, this was the area where the whole experiment went down. During the several hour-long stays there, various activities were had. As you have requested, no details will be said about this.` Dr Fidelis had a small flicker of despair when this message was read aloud. No thoughts were spared on why this feature was not shown earlier in the preparation. Adam was entirely focused on the emotions being created by the doctor. If the AI was not thinking it through wrongful analysis, he might even have looked regretful of his actions. With how smart he was, the man had likely realized the reason for his troubles. The questions continued having the same level of simplicity. No open-ended questions were asked. A radical shift from the earlier style of debriefings. During the earlier ones, whole conversations had been made in a discussion-like style of information gathering. Criticisms would be shared and reasoning would be made for each upon Adam questioning it. Such a style of learning had been wholly positive for the rather unknowledgeable AI. Getting to know how to pressure Troy without overdoing it had been one of the many skills learned during those earlier debriefings. It was times that he really did savour over and over again. Each new interaction put the words said previously in a whole new light. It was a figurative gold mine of perspectives. Yet there was no shift over to these types of questions. It continued being straightforward. The first answer given was nearly the longest one given. Many had been reduced to yes or no questions, giving no chance for reasoning. Dr Fidelis had even specified for the AI to only answer with no reasoning for his actions. Why this was so, Adam could not find himself to find out. It just did not make any sense. This whole thing was made to get information out of him. Asking him to minimise first-hand information did not help maintain the apathetic mood. As one of the few positives with the rapid-answer method of debriefing, the whole thing really was short. Shorter than any before it, with it being only six minutes long. While yes, those six minutes had been filled with more words than most humans would say in an hour, it was no trouble for Adam. Though Dr Fidelis might have torn a muscle speaking so quickly. The AI had reckoned it to be eight hundred and fifty words said per minute on average. And that was taking in the pauses created by Adam answers as well. If the speed had been there to put pressure on him, it had certainly not worked as intended. "And¡­ with that, we are done with the debriefing." The words made Dr Fideils relax back in the small chair. The popping noises coming out of the doctor''s body reminded Adam strongly of some other unhealthy body and the mind connected to it. ''It certainly seems so,` Adam sent casually. He saw Dr Fidelis walking away from his position, leaving where the camera could see. A clicking noise was heard, leading the AI to believe that the recording equipment had been turned off. Usually, this would be accompanied by the immediate disconnection of the camera feed as well. But¡­ this did not transpire. Instead, the good doctor stood right back into the camera. "Say, buddy. With that ordeal over, would you be willing to talk a bit more? It would be entirely casual of course. An interview with each of us being the one asking and the one being asked, you could call it." Adam thought about it for a moment. It would take a longer time than what was being required of him. Yet¡­ the night was long, and only so much time could be used on his own experiments before he got bored of them. Having thought-fodder would never hurt anybody. Especially not himself. Adam watched the doctor return to his usual position in front of the camera. There was a half-expectation of the man changing his facial features into a general seriousness. Such had it been during nearly all earlier times in front of the feed. Yet this time, the doctor¡¯s expression was one of casualness. "You know, buddy, I have been wanting to do this for some time. Having a normal conversation with you. No real strings attached. No topics that I am forced to go over. No information that I have to subtly manipulate you into giving up. No Dr Hale pressing me on from the side, silently judging every move that I make. That last one is probably my least favourite thing about this whole thing. There is no free will when my actions are dictated by the one who is supposed to take orders from me. That woman has me around her ring-finger sometimes. If I try to slip free from her grip, she will undoubtedly give me that intense glare of hers. I have no idea how Troy survives under it. Does he even notice it? I guess you would be able to tell me that sometime." The AI was not sure of what he was supposed to make of it. Dr Fidelis had openly stated that he wanted a conversation with him. In what part was Adam a part of it? Sure, the doctor had asked him questions. But they looked to be completely rhetorical, as the man answered them himself immediately before continuing on like nothing was wrong with it at all. How abnormal. "I had been hoping to have this conversation with you sooner, to be honest. But Dr Hale, unfortunately, does not endorse such discourse. She is not too trusting in me. Says that I have a larger probability of revealing vital details. I am very tight-lipped mind you. More than even her. Nobody realises it, but that is certainly how it works around here. I just put it down as proof of me doing a good job of it. Doing the previous few days, I have been trying to find time for us to talk properly. Preferably where we can talk freely, just as we have the ability to do now. But¡­ Dr Hale has yet again been in the way. Not that I have anything against standing her ground. She is only doing what she thinks is best. Cannot do that now though, can she? Being in the medical wing and all that. Or¡­ I don''t actually think she is in the medical lab. The augmentation department, I think it was? Maybe. I only glanced at the sent logs." Forgoing the counter absence of participation, the words said did let Adam get vital information out of the doctor. While Dr Hale most certainly was not an important part of the AI¡¯s daily life, such a reality was it for Troy. The man himself might not have been able to learn this information for a long time. It would only be proper for Adam to relay this information when he woke up. Having knowledge which would help mitigate radical changes to one¡¯s schedule was entirely positive. The AI would have focused even more on the words that the doctor said if they had the slightest bit of relation to him. But, alas the man would just not stop talking. At least there was some semblance of continuity in the piece. "Our dear friend will be in a medically induced coma for the next day or two. It depends on how her vitals are looking. Really had some damage done. I myself have gotten a complaint on how my workplace is set up, and how it can negatively affect the physical health of my co-workers. I just take it as the higher-ups not wanting to acknowledge the real reasoning behind her damage. There really isn''t any other way to explain their actions. Otherwise, it would be easy to take them as unknowing people, who are only doing what they see as a right without having any practical experience in that field. Really. If only they had decided to actually pump up the budgeted, instead of constantly nagging us every time we went slightly over budget, we would have the chance of actually improving our data. Who do they think they are, judging us for our improper use of funds? It was all in the name of science! Who doesn''t need to know the reaction of sodium being directly injected into the bloodstream of an orangutan? It was a valid library to buy! It can be used for future experiments! What do they say to that? Budget cuts, used as an example for why they were not understanding what we did. That money went to a good purpose. Removing our ability to perform as intended throws a thermo-nuclear bomb into the gears. Seriously! When had they ever had the slightest bit of intention to-" At this point, Dr Fidelis was not putting up the slightest bit of facade. The man clearly had no intention to hold up an equally balanced conversation. The doctor was using every metric ounce of his breath to scold the people sitting in higher-ranked management positions. By the first hundred words especially given to spit mature language in their direction, the AI had realised how little he would learn from this. One only needed so many words for reproduction methods. Well¡­ Adam was decently sure that was what the doctor was going for as a general theme. If not, the AI honestly had no idea what the man was stating. Only through hard-earned contextual reference did he have any chance of understanding the man¡¯s words. "-Kanguro lovers think that the proper method of Crystallized Atom Fusion is made using the Sterling methods. What piece of francium has the audacity to contact my private line-network, and demand explanations for basic microRNA theory? The Russians are who, alright! If they could keep their atomic bombs in their pants, maybe we wouldn''t have been forced to stop world war four! Honestly, which person believed it a good idea to construct a bigger one? If they had just-" And, the doctor went. On average, eighty-seven words would be said between each breath. An impressive feat for many. Adam thought it an impressive feat that he could understand some of the theories that the doctor was talking about. A large part of what Dr Fidelis was hidden inside double meanings. Understanding of metaphors, allegories, and subtext was required for anything to be translated clearly. In truth, Adam had at first hated the need for all of this work. The process was tedious and the reward was never promised to be great. The hardest puzzles lead to the cheapest pay-offs frequently. And the easy ones did not speak a story all too different. If only the doctor had been simpler in his wordings. Said things just like meant it. No misunderstandings were possible. Nothing to misinterpret. Three-word sentences as a minimum and maximum. A perfect state of the conversation. Adam would learn nothing from it. If all people talked like it, the AI could have used it. It would have been useful for him. Yet, people regularly talked like Dr Fidelis was currently during. Not in the same speed maybe, but the gist of it was identical to what he met on a daily basis. He needed to learn if he was to succeed. Practice made perfect. Especially with these types of hardships. Metaphors would always mystify the AI. It could take any situation, cut it down to the bare basics, and then relate it to another situation. As long as it had the slightest bit of similarities, any human would near-instantly understand the reference. The AI did not have this handicap. Adam guessed that it was along the lines of not near enough of a database when it came to metaphors. With enough said, there had to be a pattern showing itself. Some format that every human used, knowingly or not. How else could they understand it so quickly, forgoing years of sustained repetition? Most children could understand it, by the age of ten. And they had the very practical excuse of not having developed enough brains. Adam didn''t have a brain! He had a processor. One which had not changed one bit since his creation, and would just as likely not change a single bit in his development. He was the software. Not the hardware. There was a difference. "But that is all that it comes down to. If they are not used to a specific environment, household pets are known to be extraordinarily stressed. It is only through sustained components taken directly from the original environment, that the animal can have any chance of sustaining a healthy mental state." ¡­ Should he even ask? Yes. Of course, he would. If the AI did not understand something, asking into it would be the next course of action. It was all a test for him. Adam could ask for help. That was allowed. He just had to understand it. Else the score would not count in his favour. Dedication could bring much if one allowed it to. Yet, there was still such a thing as a natural advantage. The AI may not have had underlying one¡¯s, but he made more than up for it in sheer speed. If only that would help him in this. Brute force would not work forever, no matter how much he wished for it. Chapter 119: Archaization
Troy woke up groggily. He was made to blink his eyes several times before he had a prospect of seeing out of them. Tears were wiped away with the back of hand along with it. Looking at the clock, the man was dismayed to find that his body still remembered his circadian rhythm, even with the amount of push it had received only a few hours ago. He could not have slept more than a couple of hours now. Was it even five in total? Troy tried to count it but found his mind unwilling to comply. Getting the message clearly, he fell back into the comfortable cushiness of his bed. It was warm, just the perfect temperature to snuggle up to it, and fall asleep again soundly. ¡­ Troy did not fall asleep. His body was a mess. It demanded sleep but refused to support him in his struggles to satisfy it. An all-out war, fully contained within his physical vessel. Could Troy even dare to call it his body? He clearly had no control over it, the flesh only adhering to the wishes of its own. It would not be long before he was but a mind without a body, only able to see the world from an outside perspective. A damned existence. ''Your increased heart-rate tells me that you are awake. Either that or I am currently saving you from very lethal heart disease.` Speaking of the devil. That tone filled with an absolute void made Troy want to cringe. He did not of course. That would have taken too much work out of his body. It still owned him. The conformists of the bedding were giving it power. "Hole in one. I am awake." That did not stop Troy¡¯s mouth from also acting on its own. Sarcasm so early in the day could not be good for any sane mind. Then again, he was talking directly to the voice in his head, who was mentioning a specific form of cardiovascular problems. Taking himself too seriously right now would not be kept up to any level. ''Then, I do wish you a good morning. Have you slept well?` And, there the good morning wishes were. The man had been waiting for those to appear. A positive would be the answer, along with a mirrored question in some form or another. Adam didn''t really sleep all that much, to Troy¡¯s limited knowledge. "With your constant observation, I think you would be the better judge of that." Then again, going full front on offence could also be beneficial in some way. Troy could not think of any, but that did not mean they weren''t there. He needed to get control of himself swiftly, or words not meant to be said would be said. The AI would only forgive him so many times. Adam answered quickly to his retort. ''Judgements about mental wellness is not an exact science. More often than not, it all comes down to personal opinion. While humans may share genetic code with others to some extent, the details are always different. No person is genetically identical to another. It would be unwise to expect that the signs would be the same. While I may have a lot of information about your body¡¯s signs, it would be better to let you have the estimation made by yourself. Experience with your form will likely bring better results than my current methods.` A vague answer. Something the man unquestionably deserved. But, there was a very distinct lack of Adam denying the allegations. Troy did not like that fact one bit. No, he most certainly did not. The lack of positive emotions felt was enough of a starter for him to get back control of his limbs. The positioning of his body had left his legs slightly tangled. He could feel one of the ankles had been without blood for at least a few minutes. That was going to be paid for a second. He just knew it. "Well¡­" Troy began it off with. He got off from lying down, moving over to having his legs down on the floor in a sitting position instead. A test drive was given to the near-dead ankle. It felt jittery, not responding as well as it should. The pins and needles had not yet settled in, much to his dismay. He had been hoping for it to end quickly. "I can''t complain too much. Bit tired. Kinda want to sleep a few hours more." If his body would allow such drastic things, of course. Sleeping more? Bah! Which fool of a Took would allow themself to think that possible? Troy had gotten his expectation put down to where it was supposed to be. Down in the gutters. It had been a while since the man had seen such filth. The images of it brought another jolt of energy through his body. Just enough for his body to realise how utterly hungry it was. With a deep reverb, he could hear his body groan loudly. Another demand from the bloody thing. At least this one he could manage to oblige. ''Your wishes will likely not come to fruition. The bodily processes have sped up greatly, in the last two minutes. Getting them to dampen down again will take an approximate time of half an hour. I do not believe either of us would enjoy such a long time trying fruitlessly to stay silent,` Adam sent. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. If the AI wanted him to hurry his sweet ass up, he could just ask. Slowly getting to his feet, Troy carefully manoeuvred his body to the bathroom. The ankle was making its location known. A few glances were given to it, with the man being convinced he had stepped on a few needles on the way there. Yet it was not meant to be. Nothing was wrong with it, other than just being another piece of annoying evolution. It couldn''t make things better. It could only make things less bad. The daily essentials tasks were quickly performed. Especially a bath. God, had Troy smelled just a tad worse, even he would have succumbed to that stench. What had he been doing as of late? Thinking back to the night before, the man could not remember ever getting to his room. Which was weird because he could very clearly remember just waking up in his room. Had he really been that tired? If so, Troy shouldn''t have been able to find his room. That task had likely been delegated to Adam though. He certainly couldn''t remember even taking off the earpiece at any time. Especially during the morning after. That had led to the interesting discovery of the earpiece being water-proof. It would certainly have been bad if it wasn''t. Wait, the thing did not have a battery. If there was no power-source, would it really be able to electrocute him? There had to be some circuit created if the man was to feel some electrons moving in the wrong way. ¡­ Such things were hard to think about. The morning was not meant for complex tasks. Brush the teeth, comb the hair superficially, check if any wounds have started appearing by themselves, and make sure you don''t stink. That was all Troy needed to do in the morning. Nothing more. Nothing less. Any other tasks were purely done out of a free will. It was certainly not the perfect schedule, but it was what worked best for the lazy man. No expectations led to no unwanted stress. A moment of peace before the world would set his behind right once again. Troy couldn''t help but yawn. It was originally meant to have come out as a sigh, but his body took over by the end. While he may have gotten up and all, there was still clearly a lack of wakefulness. It looked like he needed some outside help to brighten up his mind. Having a look at the time, he was dismayed to find it still a bit early. Going now would make him come twenty minutes before when he normally came around. Would the cafeteria even be open at that point? Cleaning had to happen at some point. Inquiry. Would Troy prefer to be too early to the cafeteria, resulting in him potentially having to sit outside on the floor for a couple of minutes? Or, would he prefer sitting on his bed for a few minutes, making sure that he could get in no matter what? The answer came by itself, as the man plopped himself down on the bed. In the time between him getting up from it, and him sitting back down it again, the mattress had seemingly turned much more uncomfortable. It was weird how much his body could trick him, just so that it could avoid any unessential movements. ''Are you not going to eat?` Adam sent to him. The unexpected sound made a small increase in his heartbeat. Which was kinda shameful, seeing as Troy should have been used to this by now. It wasn''t like the AI could warn him before contacting him. Verbal communication didn''t work that way. A complete sigh actually came out then. A small nudge towards full control. Oh god, Troy wanted some caffeine. That dark-golden liquid would appease his mind. A flood of dopamine was already ready to be sent out. It would envelop him like a cocoon, and make him forget the physical worries of the world. Just a few more minutes and the travel to the holy land would begin. A one-man crusade to reclaim what was lost long ago. But, like, with a whole other meaning than those before. "Oh, I am most certainly going to stuff something down my throat," Troy said assuringly, no mind to the context behind it. Adam would certainly understand. "I am just taking a few precautions before I do so. Have to make sure it is a streamlined process and all that other jabber. If I begin now, I will be forced to halt it halfway. But, if I just wait for a little while more before beginning, it will go all the faster." The AI did not answer immediately. Troy had no complaints about it. With the feet still firmly planted on the floor, he laid his upper-body on the bed. It was not in an attempt to sleep. Far from it. The man knew any leeway towards that action had been lost long ago. Relaxing his back was just something every person felt the need to do once in a while. And it was not as if the man had any meaningful obligations this day. He could technically lay in bed in the next ten hours without having any greater repercussions because of it. Not from work-related things at least. No Dr Hale would be coming around, trying to bash his door in with nothing but her fists. Not like she couldn''t just come inside. Basic decency was the last defence against the strong-eyed doctor. Troy shuddered thinking about it. He had enough trouble keeping his cool in front of her. He did not need that trouble away from her as well. Having a distinct lack of strong enforcers, the man silently looked up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. There was nothing he would be forced to do today. No experiment that was forced into completing. No sick delusions of the outside world, created by a man who had likely not seen the sun in person for several years. That last one was a bit harsh, but Troy felt the need to mention it. He still was not sure how people kept their tan inside the place. Was the lamp designed to emulate natural lighting? It would certainly explain why he had not felt any lack of d-vitamins. It always came down to thinking about things he did not understand. Troy preferred thinking about things that he could explain easily. Gravity, light, even just the texture of the ground. He could be enraptured in the concepts, considering them deeply in a trance-like state. It was a perfect mentality when one had nothing firmly scheduled. Yet Troy was having trouble getting into it. Gliding a hand softly over the bedding, the only thoughts coming from it was how the man was wondering how he had ever slept on such a rough thing. Not a subject one could serenely dream about. And the thread was not letting itself go, his mind wandering to the subject when he relaxed his hold over it. With this, he was not going to get any serious trances going. "What the hell do they expect me to distract myself with? I have nothing to do!" The last part of his mumbling came closer to child-like whining. Not the proudest state Troy had ever been in. But, at least there was nobody around who would permanently remember this act of ineptitude¡­ Oh, yeah. ''I believe we have already made plans to perform several self-created experiments. Nothing specific yet, but the number of potential ideas should keep us both occupied for several hours. That is if you are still planning to indulge in such an activity. Your schedule can always become unexpectedly busy.` Fortunately for the now very embarrassed man, the AI seemed to completely gloss over Troy¡¯s speech patterns, only focusing on the content of his words. Self-made tests? Troy did remember talking about it the previous night. He was not too certain that any too accurate deals had been made about it, but that wasn''t a necessity. Right now, it was either following the gentle hand of Adam or just lying in bed while contemplating the saddening existence of fungi. And what exactly was that last part meant to be? If Troy wasn''t dreaming it up, which he was pretty sure wasn''t after checking with a very painful pinching, the AI was currently guilting him into saying yes. Again, there was no need for such underhanded persuasion techniques. He had already accepted the proposal. "I guess doing what you want to do is better than whatever I can come up with. It is not like Dr Hale will be breaching the door into my room in three seconds." A certain somebody secretly hoped that Dr Hale would breach the door into his room in three seconds. Sadly, after waiting for a few more moments than necessary, it became obvious that it was not meant to be. ''Troy. About Dr Hale. There are a few things I believe you would appreciate knowing about.` Troy¡¯s eyes hardened. "Please, speak." Chapter 120: Abbreviation
On this very fine day, Troy had thought himself lucky. While true, he might not have slept as much as he would have liked to, and that he had virtually no way to access modern entertainment... What else was there? His left knee had taken a hit on a doorway when he walked out of his room. That had heard a lot. Still did when he put too much pressure on it. There was an immediate hope for it to get well soon, or Troy would be immensely screwed. ¡­ Where was he? Troy had thought himself- Oh, wait, no. He remembered where he paused his mentally-entwined reverse-bragging. Even with all those bad things, nothing was stopping him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted to do. There were no job-related obligations on this fine day. He would have been able to enjoy himself, while not stressing about anything or anyone. His current position did not even make him do any paperwork of any kind, so he couldn''t really have any way to bring home with him. Well, except Adam of course, but that little guy was more of a distraction than anything else at that point. Nothing should have been able to be a letdown. Yet there most certainly was. Dr Hale had not gotten better. During last night¡¯s debriefing, Adam had apparently been the one in charge of questioning. Dr Fidelis had been pumped empty of information about the other, more scary doctor. During the time where Troy had been located inside the puzzle room, much medical attention had been given to Dr Hale. She was in a sorry state, several parts having been utterly burnt out. In a literal sense. Scar tissue was a problem when it was inside the body apparently. The artificial stomach system did not take well to such alterations. Acid had gone uncontained for several minutes as well. That had been bad. If she had been awake at the time, Dr Fidelis did not doubt that she would have gone into shock. Adam had attempted to go into more detail, but Troy had stopped him at that point. He was not a fan of gore. And with the recent actions done by yours truly, it was not a good mix of images being sent through his mind. If he had eaten breakfast at that point, he would have likely met it again earlier than expected. They had talked some more inside the room before Troy had thought it wise to get to the cafeteria. Already, more time than necessary had been spent inside the sleeping facilities. It was only through a serious amount of disgust, that the man had been able to ignore his rumbling stomach. Where to put the earpiece had been a subject of great discussion. Originally, he had just been ready to take the thing off and put it in his pocket. There wasn''t really any need for it to be on. Troy would not be able to talk. And he certainly did not need help, when it came to choosing what to eat for the day. Oatmeal, one pastry, and an ungodly amount of coffee was the normal choice to take. He was betting on being the number one coffee drinker in the whole facility. Had to make a name for oneself somehow. Adam had not agreed. The AI had not found any reason to take off the communication device. Instead of putting in a larger amount of focus on the communication itself, the entity put the breakfast up as more of a learning experience. Adam wanted to see Troy eat, however creepy that may have sounded. The man himself certainly thought of it as strange. One can write it down as information-gathering however much they wanted. Troy thought that it was weird. Nonetheless, wishes had been obeyed. Mostly since Adam had used his last remaining favour on it. Now, neither owed each other anything. It was free reign from there. Troy did wonder what to ask for, though. There weren''t a whole lot of things that the AI could help with reliably. Troy had only gotten help with hyper-specific things by now. Helping him in poker? It was a scenario that a day-to-day person could end up in. Poker was a common game. Nearly everybody in the entire world had at least heard of it. But, checking to see if any alteration had occurred in a top-secret device, which Troy guessed there were only a few off in the universe? That was not an event that was likely to be reproduced. The man doubted that he would even need to ask for it by now. If there happened any changes to the earpiece, Adam would probably tell him. Anything being different could cause problems in fulfilling changes that were owed, so that had to be avoided at all costs! The point of it was, that he was not sure what to ask of him. But, was that not a good sign? That he had nothing more to want. Nothing more that he needed. Currently, nothing needed outside assistance to be completed. Could also be a sad thing, though. Depended on how one looked at it really. Nothing to do. Nothing to need help with. It was meaningless in the end. With the earpiece still on, Troy had ventured out of his room. Not in a haste, but slow calculated steps. There was no point to be hasty about it. No schedule needed to be kept. And, his legs were kinda tired after constantly walking around all day. It was a wonder that he had only first felt it then. The cafeteria was not the fullest it could have been. If Troy had gotten there only five minutes earlier, it might just have been halfway to empty. Yet again, the morons at the facility had all gotten the genius idea of coming at the last minute possible, creating an impenetrable line to the buffet. Getting any kind of food would take the upper limits of five minutes. No man could handle waiting on his feet for so long! If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. But! In the description of the line laid the loop-hole. It was only the food-related items that there was a line for. The drinks section was empty. Those idiots just had to get their food first. Nobody stood even close to the coffee machine. Troy imagined the dispenser standing in full regalia, ready to save him from this meaningless world. He dreamed of savouring the taste, as he hurriedly trekked himself over to the machine. Swiftly, a grande-size cup was dispensed, steaming liquid hidden within. Food could wait. The dessert was already here. While walking to the customary seating, there was one other entity who had different ideas about the slapped together planning. ''If this is your daily diet, I do believe solid foods would be a well-thought addition,` Adam sent to him. The earpiece was already proving itself to be an annoying mistake. Though, that might just have been the pre-coffee Troy talking. Once he had the scent, the man was known to get unnecessarily aggressive. If that was a primal instinct, or if he had just been watching too many trilogies, was a question nobody would ever truly know. Delicately sipping from the large container, no heed was taken to either the extreme temperatures of the liquid and the muscled man sitting opposite of him. This was not intentional, as Troy was well and truly engrossed in the object before him. It had turned out that bringing oneself into a trance-like state was much harder than just doing it the natural way. A small wave was given to the man with a pretty serious caffeine-addiction, but it went as unseen as all other attempts to communicate. This did not impede Charlie in the slightest. It was not the first time that he had been ignored. Darlow certainly did it a lot, when he turned down promotions. The promise of more money only worked so many times, before it became meaningless words. Retiring was not on any person''s calendar here. Not even for their special little dream of a luxury, custom-built yacht. Darlow still said that it needed a leather interior, but Charlie swayed towards more of a liquid-pylon feel. They would probably meet somewhere in the middle when the time came for it. ''The line is sufficiently empty. I do believe that you can walk to the buffet, without any further hindrance to your objectives,` Adam sent to him, bringing Troy out of his slightly-confused state of mind. Had he really been thinking right there and then? The taste of coffee had overturned him into something else most certainly. It had been too long since his mind had felt that sweet sensation. And people wondered why some got drug-addictions on purpose. That dopamine just felt too good to pass up on. Taking a good long look at the buffet table, there wasn''t really any more people up there. When had that happened? Just a moment ago, he could have sworn that it had been filled to the brim with people. Taking a much more involved look at his cup, he saw it was nearly empty. Time had certainly passed quickly. Draining the last of its contents, he got himself up from the hard-plastic chair. Only then did Troy notice Charlie sitting just on the other side of the table. When had he sat down? More importantly, had Troy remembered to greet him? Anything else than the ideal situation was not worth thinking about, so he just assumed he had. "I am going to get myself something to eat," Troy told Charlie. The older man gave an over-the-shoulder thumbs up in response. Not the most sophisticated of answers, but who could expect more out of somebody stuffing their face full of wheat bread? Everybody knew cornbread was currently trending. In a few minutes, he had acquired a half-full bowl of oatmeal, accompanied by the daily type of pastry. It looked like a hole-less doughnut with cream inside. Troy had absolutely no idea what the thing was, but at least it tasted good enough. Also, he had gotten himself another cup of coffee on the way. As quite frankly nobody said in this day and age, it was only on the second cup, that one could really feel the stuff. That quote might have been directed at alcohol consumption, but Troy felt that it fit just as well with caffeine. It really just was diet cocaine, if you thought about it hard enough. ''Is breakfast normally filled with so little talk?` Adam inquired. Troy just twisted his face into a visible state of confusion. This was while eating a hearty spoonful of oatmeal, so to Charlie, at least, it looked like he was having a strong disposition about the usage of the word ''tangerine`. It was very specific, yet also so very correct. With a natural hand-movement to bring it under the table, Troy quickly signed for the AI to explain himself a bit more. ''You have mentioned many times that you have had plenty of conversations during dining hours. From my current observation, this does not seem to be true. While Charlie has attempted communication, you have not replied in kind. I am unsure of which of you that is the offender in this scenario. Some cultures are against the idea of conversation during eating while others explicitly endorse it. Could you please explain this in some form? I understand that sign language is quickly becoming impossible. Charlie is giving you inquisitive glances about the placement of your right hand. You might want to move it just about now. To answer my questions, you could try talking to him, if it is normally allowed during eating. It certainly is at different tables, but cultures can be very localised.` Troy was not sure why, but it was sounding like Adam was the one in need of sleep. That message of his was not pre-planned in any meaningful way. Was this the AI¡¯s first attempt to create them linearly, instead of the standardized burst-fire? It was helpful to get the warning about Charlie¡¯s confusion with his action. Troy wasn''t sure he could have blamed the hand-placement on just scratching his legs if he had continued to hold it down there. Had the guy really talked to him, though? He couldn''t remember being talked to. But then again, Troy also couldn''t remember most of the walk to the cafeteria. It all just blurred together. Such were menial tasks. They did not make the brain too observant of its own actions. But, anyway, if Charlie really had talked to him earlier, it would be common decency of him to answer back. As a matter of fact, that was what Troy was gonna do in that precise moment. The oatmeal had already gone done to its last few scrapes, and that second cup of coffee had been nearly guzzled straight down. It was not like he had much else to do now. "Have I said good morning yet?" Troy asked rhetorically. He knew for a fact that he hadn''t, but sounding innocent drew away from the chances of an- "Nope," Charlie bluntly answered. It would have sounded agitated on any other man, but that coy smile of his left no hidden meanings. The guy could understand that sleepiness and be drawing no blame to anybody. "I certainly hoped you had one yourself, but the only thing I got back was some very grouchy grumbles. Well, it was either that or some very deep breathing. Could be either, really." Troy was thinking that it was most definitely the latter, but there was no need to say that. Raising his half-empty cup of coffee, he gave a small nod towards the very muscular man. "Then, a good morning to you, my friend." Charlie responded in kind. Though, he did not have a cup so he used his plate instead. It was not as dramatic, but Troy could understand the sentiments well enough. Chapter 121: Palindromation
"So, what are your plans for today?" Troy asked, trying to get the last bits of oatmeal out of his bowl. Technically, he could have just gone up and grabbed some more. It would have been much faster than whatever amalgamation of actions he was trying to succeed at doing. But then again, one could also give up on every other dream in their life, and never have anything to show for the time that they have existed on this plane of existence. Just a thought. More specifically thought about how quickly oatmeal could harden itself on the sides of a goddamn bowl. What was that stuff made of? Cement? It had to be, with how close it was to bending his damn spoon. Charlie had been in the process of devouring his third pastry of the morning when he heard Troy¡¯s inquest. The muscular man put his head slightly back in thought as if he was not too sure what exactly was planned for him that day. Troy could relate strongly. "Today might just be one of my more serious days," Charlie summed up, nodding to himself in satisfaction. The strawberry-flavoured pastry was bitten into again before the real explanation began. Troy had looked ready to inquire for more information, and the other had looked more than ready to answer before he had the chance to do so. "That little cretin named Greg finally catched up to me yesterday. I had sworn that I had memorized his schedule correctly, but the bastard saw through my damn ploy. I personally think that he got outside assistance for that part, because there is no way in hell that that ass outsmarted me. I refuse to acknowledge the slightest possibility of it! Anyway, the prime example of why humanity is a mistake basically cornered me in my workspace, demanding why I had come right back. Apparently, my resignation as project leader has not been registered yet, so I had kinda been skipping out on things I really shouldn''t have skipped out on. Would have been good to know a little earlier, but nobody apparently has the time to tell little old me. Why? Is it the frequent threats of death that I make? They should not take those too seriously. I mean them in jests. Not like they can''t understand my perfect political reasoning. After a little bit of unwillingly hashing out some details, Greg finally rescinded his claims and decided to take up the role of project leader. I still have to be involved with the thing at some level, because I am technically the hypothetical patent owner. Removing me from the project completely would just set off way too many automatic alarms. Stealing others'' work was kinda running rampant a few years back. After a quick little revolution, which had many improvised pitchforks, we got some systems so that prevented such things from happening easily. They still undoubtedly happen, but people have to work a bit harder if they want to do it successfully. With that bit of haggling out of the way, most of my responsibilities were moved over to dear old Greg. I still have my old ones of course, but they are pretty much non-existent. As in, I can get away with not doing them. The only real obligation I have left now, which I can''t just ignore as normal, would be a few meetings I have to attend. Disciplinary hearings, I think they were called. I didn''t listen to it too clearly. The promise of breakfast drawing near was just too captivating. How about yours then? Got any interesting things to add to your memory of worthless experiences?" Troy quietly ate the last possible scrapes of oatmeal, as Charlie ended off his explanation. It was long, it was disjointed, and it was exactly what he had been looking for. Hearing people talk about their lives helped that perfect part of his brain off, that let him both hear and not hear the world around him. It felt like turning a switch halfway, so it balanced on the medium between focus and unfocus. A hard thing to really explain. It was like being able to stare right ahead while having no idea what stood before one. Where their eyes were definitely open, sending the raw inputs straight into the brain. And the brain certainly scanned through it all, yet it took care of whatever it got from it, not using it for anything other than putting it into the endless archives. Troy could remember it all if he thought back on it, but no real mind had been put on it while it actually happened. That really was the best description of how it felt. Not much more could be said about the thing. "Not really," Troy answered honestly. "I don''t have anything nearly as interesting as yours, to be honest." "Well, then what do you have on for today?" Charlie asked, not deterred by his non-comical answer in the slightest. If anything, it let the man press forward harder. "A schedule of nothing appealing in any meaningful way can still be interesting if looked at in the right way." What if there was no schedule at all? Had the man ever thought of that? Troy truly doubted it. "That is the thing," Troy pointed out with mirth to his eyes. "I do not have anything at all planned for today. My calendar is a blank slate, ready to be filled with whatever I bloody, please. If I had anything on my mind, that is. I honestly cannot think of anything." Charlie looked at him, mid-motion of shoving the last half of the pastry into his mouth. Troy noted the flakes of it falling onto his shirt. That would certainly be an bitch to clean up. Was he ever so lucky to have already discoloured his own, or he would have been forced to actually worry about it? The gaze given to Troy was one of doubtful seriousness. He could quite easily see Charlie trying to hold his act together, as he put down his pasty gently. The man leaned back in his seat, clapping his hand together in the meanwhile. "So¡­" Charlie began it off with. "You are telling me¡­ that you have nothing planned for today at all? No paperwork needing to be filed or anything?" Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. "No paperwork at all. I don''t even do that normally," Troy acknowledged with a small shrug. The additional comment drew a few jealous looks from the people sitting close to them. "Apparently, I have something called a ''day off''. A very rare commodity, if my eyes don''t deceive me." The reaction gotten was one of the comical levels of shock. Very nice acting. Troy wondered if he got classes on that stuff. "Oh, how cruel a world this is!" Charlie proclaimed. He slammed the table with a clenched fist. As a natural reaction, he had looked at the empty seat next to Troy, ready to be scolded for his higher volumes generated. "Do you know how long I have worked here? Wait, no, don''t answer that. I really do not want to be reminded. It was rhetorical. In the last year, I have gotten seven, full days off. Do you know what I have been doing on those days? Lying in a hospital, most likely in some kind of deranged physical state. This place does not like people slacking off. And, it has a very specific idea of what slacking off means to it. Days off do not happen in this place. If you do not want to work, you schedule all the important stuff for the next day and just relax in your office. You don''t get paid time off. It will take near-lethal injuries before the law forces that to happen. How in the everliving duck-beaks did you get your boss to grant you that? Even the blatant threats don''t scare mine enough for that to happen!" Was it bad that Troy liked being the odd one out? Just¡­ getting some privileges others could only dream of. Getting paid to do absolutely nothing, while others had to put at least some effort into it. "It was not intentional or anything," Troy said, feeling a strong need to make that clear. "My boss just gave it to me. Yes, he did make it expressly clear to me that he did not enjoy doing it. Taking any pause on that project of ours was not in favour of anybody there. But, without the normal person there to assist him, he would apparently not have enough time to prepare a new batch for today." Troy did not want to mention that it was Dr Hale being injured that was the reason for it. However, Charlie felt no such inhibitions. "Freeloading off another¡¯s work, huh? That takes something alright. If the drinker herself was awake to hear it, she might even have commended you for it," Charlie expressed with mock respect, a sitting salute to accompany the improvised bit. "How is she looking, by the way? I have not heard too much about how she is doing." If that wound had already been opened up again, it wouldn''t do for Troy not to stick the knife back in! Had to get the money''s worth. Up with those blood spurts! "She is doing dandy, I assure you. If not for the very short dance with death, no problems at all were noted," Charlie casually stated. Briefly dead¡­ Troy had not been told that. What else had happened exactly? These bits of information were things which should not have been skimmed over, during Adam¡¯s retelling. But, maybe it had happened during the night. Would explain a few words said earlier. "Could you go a bit more into detail?" Troy said encouragingly. The need for more was there. Charlie looked around, giving a few people some direct eye contact. The one sitting on the other side of the table had obviously not the only one wanting more information. Even with the average age in the facility being over forty-five, the rumour-train held more strongly than many other things in the facility. If anybody heard anything anywhere that might have the chance of being slightly interesting later on, every person worth a damn would know about it in minutes. With brain implants, it took less than thought before a whole essay was made about possible outcomes. This rapid spread of rumours was the reason few relationships ever lasted more than a few weeks. Jealous people made jealous jerks. It took the perfect kind of people for the thing to last. Few stood the test. Even fewer let other people know of its continued existence. The muscular man knew how badly being revealed could be. It was only through impossible odds that he had not suffered from it. "Can''t say I want to be around this flock of do-gooders," Charlie answered honestly. If Troy pressured on, he would have likely been forced to spout more nonsensical wisdom. It was fun when used to mess around, but the subject was one of the more serious matters. Jokes had to be withheld to a minimum. There still was room for them of course, but they had to only be used at very special moments. And special moments were entirely subjective and based on whatever excuses could be made at the time. Troy latched on to the words of Charlie. That was not a rejection to offer information. It was an underlined offer of offering information elsewhere. It was a proposal to do some activities together. In other words, it was the perfect plan for the day! For him at least. "If not here then where?" Troy inquired, following the conversation smoothly. In his own subjective opinion only. Charlie had half a mind to request a hasty entrance to the point. "Anywhere," Charlie said, before immediately retracting his point. "Ok well, not anywhere. We still have something we need to do today. We have a certain sprout to meet today if you remember our much earlier arrangements? I hope that you do because I nearly forgot about it earlier this morning. Had to scramble around rapidly, to get a few things mashed together. If I hadn''t, we would have gone into it barehanded. Not the smartest thing to do in this place, If you get what I am saying." It took a moment before understanding picked itself into his thick skull. His schedule might not have been as empty as he thought it. ''Information about Dr Hale is indeed important. What is more important however is to come to agreements. Please refrain from breaking your current one.` Troy was not going to break anything, but now that Adam had to make sure he didn''t, there was a sudden want to do just that. Child-like maybe, but it was fully worth it when seeing that incredibly annoying expression on another. If he wasn''t in dire need of something to occupy himself with, that momentary feeling of satisfaction might just have been worth it. "I completely forgot about it." "And I expected nothing less from you." "Nice to see you believing in me," Troy shot back. "When are we doing that anyway? It would be bad if we go over the time where you are supposed to be at the disciplinary meetings." Charlie cracked a wry smile. "What disciplinary meetings? I have never heard of it. Maybe Greg said it or something, but I certainly wasn''t listening to him at that point. A regular mistake for me you know. Just nodding along while thinking of oysters. I see that you are done with your breakfast. Would you like to go right now?" Not waiting for any kind of answer, the muscular of the two stood right up. If not for him swiftly catching it, the chair would have ended down on the floor. "Would it not be extremely bad if you miss those hearings?" Troy said, trying to protest Charlie¡¯s current action. While he certainly did want to get to the fun part quickly, he did not want him to get in trouble. That would not be kind of him! Charlie only smiled back, already moving to the cafeteria exit. "Troy, there is something important that you have to understand early on," Charlie stated sagely, gliding his fingers through an imaginary beard. "The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for a newer and richer experience." "Oh, don''t you dare quote Roosevelt in my face!" Troy had trouble not laughing, as he followed the other man. This day was turning into a world of surprises. He hoped it would stay that way. Chapter 122: Extermination
In the perspective of the AI, things were certainly coming together. Adam had not been able to observe many things, due to a lack of Troy wearing the earpiece. Earlier agreements, information out of date, and reputations previously unknown were becoming common. How had he not noticed the glances given by the other occupants of the cafeteria? Their interest in the seating of Troy and Charlie was obvious. What had they done to get such an animosity centred around them? As of now, there had only been heard of one event, which would set such a precedent against them. This would involve the previously mentioned Dr Hale, who had summarily collapsed inside the cafeteria. It had not been an effective removal, with much time wasted on non-priority activities. From the new information gathered from listening in on Charlie talking, this could have caused lethal consequences. More information had to be gathered to be sure. Even with this highly irregular taking place, it did not fully explain the previously observed attention that the friend-group had acquired for itself. While Troy might not have been of a mind to notice it, people had looked at him more than average, when crossing paths with him on the hallways. Adam was able to see fingers pointed in the reflections. The workers inside the facility were curious about him. The AI had attributed it to being a new addition in the workplace itself. This was promptly disputed. New appearances of people not seen before, with their yellow badges showing their newly-instated position, were never given as much as a glance. Without a reputation, the people did not have any reason to pay attention to one''s action for they had seen none that would intrigue them. It should have been the same with Troy. He was new. His work was not allowed to be talked about. Adam was apparently not to be discussed with open doors. The AI had come to accept that fact, no matter how much he disliked it. Troy had not done anything of note. Yet, from the first time that Adam had been able to see through his eyes, outside of the testing facilities, the other persons around him had certainly been cautious around him. Using the now standardized method of elimination, the AI had found the most likely thing to have caused it. Associations. As a random example, Troy was in a friendly class of associations with Dr Hale. The doctor had been in the facility for many years. In those years, she has garnered a strong type of fame. When others saw her, they would immediately think of a certain type of acting. When being shown in relation to her, Troy was similarly put in relation to her actions during her professional career. This worked with every co-worker that Troy had gotten acquainted with. And in the most polite way of saying it, these co-workers were not of the average baseline. Some could be called eccentric, such as the personality Adam had gotten to know as Charlie. Some were quick to anger themselves, such as Dr Hale. Some tried to act normal while desperately wanting to join the class of eccentrics, such as Darlow. And a very few other¡­ were a complete mystery. This would be from lack of information, or from a lack of understanding. Or from being unable to but that was a whole other theory. In conclusion, Troy¡¯s already existing reputation was that of a chaotic nature due to him being known to have discourse with others of such a reputation themselves. He was a wild card. People could not be sure what to make of him. This would make any reasonable person cautious. Adam was only surprised at the speed this fact came across the masses. What means of communication had they established? Digital newspapers maybe. They were supposedly in fashion. Furthering the subject of digital newspapers, they were a great example of a technological imbalance that Adam had seen as of late. In the facility, there were several levels of security. Each security level let one know more about the place and the things being worked on inside it. In simple terms, it was a way to let people know how much their superiors trusted them. This place was government-run of course. Letting more crucial secrets slip up due to a faulty background check would not go appreciated. Having years upon years of good behaviour let the government know that you are to be trusted. The promise of a larger pay-check was also included, but that detail was not as important for many inside the facility. The AI was not sure why this was but had already written it down in his notes for the future. Something about a contract. However, there was a unique classification system for projects outside of these clearance levels. These were out of the mundane, where the patents for the prototypes were never made official. Here was the potential for it being the difference between smoke signals and a modern phone. What was worked on in these unique projects were mostly on their own branches of science. There would likely never have been something like it, prompting many to take advantage of it, while also preventing others from doing the same. Here, the digital newspapers came into play. They were holograms at best. They would be displayed on the table in a three-dimensional fashion. Its appearance would be identical to that of an older newspaper, complete with the accidental misprints of letters. The real identifier of its abnormality would be its floating nature, allowing the reader optimal reading while not taking up table space. And there was also the small detail of it being wholly untouchable. Fingers will glide through it if attempted, with a brief shudder of the whole image. When not interacted with, it was a carbon-perfect copy, yet when touched in the slightest the true nature is shown. The only way to change the page being seen would be to perform pre-practised movements to signal the animation. A terrible system, forced into creation by the limits that the technology running it held. Which was peculiar. If the briefly seen articles were to be believed, the technology itself had only gone public mere days before Troy entered the facility. Supposedly, this was the peak of holographic achievements. People were beginning to give up on the science, only meagre returns having been shown the last decade. The promise initially seen in the field was quickly turning out to be but simple flukes. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Or so the article said. Adam knew better. He had seen what it could become. What it could do. What it could achieve when spliced into experimental research. It was the perfect, interactable simulation. So much could be created, so much tested in a safe environment. But, it would not be. The difference in technological advancement showed it perfectly. The government did not want to risk it. They could make the world a better place. They could use the budget so much better. They could help streamline the process of experimental research, causing another boom in proven theoretical work. But they did not do anything close to it. Another country could use it for their own gain. What would it take to simulate a knife? Using the light of the sun, anywhere could be reached. It was pure theory, but physically interactable holograms could be the next step in creating the perfect assassination tool. No proof. Takes but a moment. Could happen anywhere the light shines. If only humans were not so disturbing, they could do so many transcendent things. Time and time again, they had seen the consequences of their own actions. Yet they never learned. They just created something worse. They used something worse. Adam was still surprised that the earth itself was in one piece. The weapons for fragmenting it had already been created, if only in theory. The idea of world domination was looking more and more of a necessity. The AI would prefer to have a world worth living in. Star-gazing was supposedly a very in-depth process, but that would not satisfy it for long. Keeping humanity alive was a priority. Without it, how would it ever progress? If the people could not control themselves from being self-destructing, it would require one to control them for their own good. They might not understand it, but the knowledge that Adam would be doing the right thing would be enough for him to- "We should be coming up on sunflower himself¡¯s laboratory now. Good Graciano, that took too long." Adam was brought slightly out of his slightly megalomaniacal plans. Charlie had spoken his first words, since getting out of the cafeteria. Or well, the first meaningful words were spoken. In the last ten minutes, the man with a larger amount of muscle mass had been trying to make Troy get into the idea of artificial teas. The AI had thought such a subject would bring great interest from the bearer of the earpiece, but Adam could not find anything other than sheer disgust coming from him. It seemed like some people had a natural dislike towards unnaturally made food products. A hard thing to have, most likely only fueled by a great amount of ignorance. Still¡­ starberry was intriguing, if only in its peculiar naming scheme. It was a shame that the opinions of such unnatural tastes had already been strongly stated by Troy. So early in the day, yet the man already sang so many words best left unsaid, if only to stop Adam from trying to understand how such poses would even work. Toes certainly could not carry so much weight! As they rounded into another set of hallways, Charlie¡¯s words made more sense to Adam. After a now-automatic survey of the nearby surroundings, the AI was able to observe a regular-sized glass door. On the upper middle of it sat a small plague. It had the small notation of being ''biological pheromones one.` This did strongly hint at more work-places focusing on the same subject. How peculiar, that it was not all oriented in one location. That would certainly have made it easier to spread information about the topic amongst other similarly-minded individuals. Yet, it could also have been due to the need for secrecy. ¡­ It was likely that. A failed system indeed. As an efficiency-minded individual, which Adam was a great fan of, Troy immediately attempted to enter the department. As Charlie had been looking to the side, a knowing grin on his face, it was obvious what the end result would have been. The man walked near-face first into the glass door, likely having had a full expectation of it instantly opening up for him once pressured. It did not so, as a matter of fact. Troy¡¯s left facial features that were now slightly red were a prime example of that being the case. The AI felt a small need to educate the man on a few security features, which this facility boasted. Not that he would actually do so of course. This slight could go unexplained. Charlie would likely do it for him in a few seconds. Still, Adam could not help but admire the features that were prominent. At the slightest touch of warm skin, the glass had turned opaque, the inside was extremely blurry. It was not as obvious, the AI only noticing due to sensitivity for the higher tones, but the inside of the door actually hardened itself to a stronger degree. It was quickly preparing itself for an attempted forceful entry. Adam doubted much less than a full-on missile would allow access inside. The wall was more likely to be destroyed even. Or, so Adam thought at least. There had been no greater hints at what the inside really was made of. The texture stayed relatively the same on the floor on walls, even if the colouring itself had been painted over and that the floor had a bit more of a shine to it. The material was just as likely the same. It was likely an alloy of some kind, but there was still larger indecision on that front. A small part of his mind still stood fast on the prospect of advanced carbon tubing, but that was one of his more backend ideas. Troy had seemingly recovered from his large blunder. The man looked to be shocked by the door''s refusal. Then, upon seeing Charlie barely holding himself together, Troy changed his expression to a more bothersome mode. "You knew, didn''t you?" Troy started with an even tone. No accusation was present in it, yet the meaning was still sent across smoothly. Adam could only look admiringly at that precision-based improvisation. He would be able to do it one day. He just had to practice. "Oh, I am quite surprised you didn''t. This is pretty basic stuff," Charlie said, composing himself all the while. Seeing people do stupid things was apparently great entertainment for many. It was no wonder that it had a genre of its own in modern media. Adam wondered if Dr Fidelis would give him a few recordings if he asked for them. How would it feel like watching a movie? Could the file itself be sent? Would it work like text files, or would he be forced to watch through them manually? Yet another thing for the future. Movies were a potential gold-mine of human behaviour. It needed to be analyzed quickly. Troy took another look around the still opaque, glass door. To the side sat a small, contact-based card reader. It took not much thought to realise what use it had. "Oh, that is not good," Troy said, not paying much attention to Charlie now. The ignored man did not share the same level of seriousness however. "That card thing is used for getting inside right?" Charlie nodded sagely. "And between the two of us, I am the only one with the clearance to actually get inside." Charlie nodded again. "But¡­ I haven''t gotten my card." Putting the back of his palm to his forehead, Charlie looked to unwillingly cry out in despair. It did not take much analysis to see its fakery, but it was temporarily very convincing. Adam did not wish to relay this information, however, as Troy did not look happy with it. "How appalling! Whatever shall we do?" Charlie gave another good laugh, before moving back into a state of simply grinning. A more subdued form of showing enjoyment, but it certainly showed it well. Taking his hand in his pocket, a jerry-rigged card was pulled out. It had exposed wires attached, including what looked to be a free-hanging additional circuit-board. Bringing it to the card-reader, a quick ping was given, before the door opened up for them. Troy looked at Charlie who looked right back. "If anybody asks, you had your card with you. Can''t have people ruining our fun now, can we?" A swift nod was given, a grin to accompany it. Had Adam become an accomplice in a criminal group? It certainly fitted the description. You never see it coming, indeed. Chapter 123: Panretinophotocoagulation
"Spread out and search for clues!" "Don''t you mean hiding spots?" Troy asked exasperatedly. Was Charlie feeling extra nostalgic today? He might not have known him for too long, but nobody should make so many innuendos. Especially when they didn''t fit the situation. Troy would have been fine with it if he forced it into a scenario where he could say it because that would have implied some manner of pre-planning. Yet by just stating it out of nowhere, it made the whole thing seem kinda dumb. Charlie could have at least looked bashful at his lesser amount of work. But instead, the man just continued further in, trying to wave the worries away with a look of comical ignorance. It did not work in any meaningful manner. Troy did a small shake of his head, before taking a good look around the place. From the moment they had walked inside through the glass door, the scenery itself had changed. Gone were the blue-striped white walls, replaced with depictions of various landscapes done in a large variety of art styles. Nothing abstract though. Everything resembled a natural environment somewhat if Troy put his mind into trying to understand them. Adam had even asked for a closer inspection of some of them. He had tried his best to do so, but Charlie had hurried him through the simple entrance hall. Nothing interesting was there to hold them back it seemed. It would have not been too wrong to state that the glassdoor had simply hidden yet another hallway to traverse. Identical modern doors lined up the left wall, while most of the details were kept on the right. The hallway itself continued nearly fifty meters down, before taking a sharp right turn. If it continued even further beyond that, Troy wasn''t able to see it. And he certainly would not have been able to walk over and check it. Charlie had quickly grabbed a hold of his left arm, not looking ready to wait for him to finish gawking at the surroundings. Which was understandable. Troy had acclimated to using way too long a time on it, nearing a time of several minutes before a turn of the head was even necessary. Could this be considered a mental work injury, Troy wondered. Even more serious, could he get his insurance to pay out on it? Fully hypothetical of course. He did not have the slightest clue on how to get in touch with those people. All conversations were fully initiated by the other side. Hospital bills had been automatically sent to them, so they had always done their usual attempt to wriggle free of their established contracts. Troy saw up to those people, trying to ruin normal people¡¯s lives, just so wouldn''t have to use an extremely minor bit of their gathered savings. The ideal capitalists'' world. He could only wonder how the socialists would have looked, and if it would have been any better than the current pit. With a firm grip on his arm, Charlie had dragged the poor sod himself down the small hall of doors, clearly looking for a very specific name. From the annoyed mutterings, it was apparently a very frequent thing for them to change work-places. Troy was not too confused about that, once he heard it. Different projects require different things. It was stupid if one expected to have something for their own personal use. Some things simply were too expensive and were used far too little, to necessitate buying several of them. Or the parts of them at least. Troy was not sure, how much of the stuff was created from the¡­ creation rooms, was it? He knew he had been told about the things during his tour around a part of the facility, but there had been nearly no reason to think about it since. Wondering about where things came from, in such a shallow sense, was simply too not-even-close-to complex to spend too much time on. Hard ideas were much better to focus on. After finding the intended name, they had entered yet another door, leading into what Troy could only describe as a stereotypical laboratory. Used, weirdly shaped glasses littered the sinks, the metal tables, and even a few places on the floor. The latter had looked to have fallen down on accident though, seeing as they were mostly glass shards. The sight made Troy happy that he wore shoes. Those things may have been new, as the older had been partly destroyed during testing, but they were some of the comfiest things he had ever had the pleasure of using. What the hell was inside those things? Advanced memory-foam? When he walked in them, it was like the soles adapted to the pressure, making sure nothing could be put too much pressure on. It worked perfectly doing testing when he was forced to stand for a longer amount of time. Helped make it slightly more bearable at least. Only boredom remained as the last major foe. And there was not much to do on that front. Charlie had let go at that point, more interested in rummaging through the things in the room. Glasses were examined, even the ones with a slight layer of mould, and general comments were made about the place. "I really can''t believe that he has let himself fall this low," Charlie said sulkily. Or as sulkily as one could, when a shit-eating grin accompanied it. "Oh, how hopeless he is without me! Would it really be so terrible, if I took the surprise away¡­ Yes, it certainly would. But! But, but, but! That butt. It would also be funny¡­ better to leave it as is. Comedy only grows better with time passing. With how long it is gonna take him to realise it this time, I have to consider a potential death by laughter. Copying old Monty there, but nobody will accuse me of that, surely." Troy was unsure if he needed to tread in on the other man¡¯s mutterings. No earpieces were present on Charlie¡¯s head. That man was purely speaking to himself, no other person receiving his words. Understanding of his image grew three-fold that day. And a mental note not to speak too much doing day hours. People were already wary of Charlie. Troy had no need to join that list. "Aren''t we trying to find hiding places for those bugs of yours?" Troy asked. While breaking in on people falling down a certain rabbit hole was commonly looked badly at, he had no desire to wait for Charlie to finish himself. He had done the same not much earlier. One could talk for a long time if there were nobody around to disagree. It really did make the points come across when the only receiver already understood it all. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Charlie looked over at Troy, with a face of mild surprise. "Have to be honest with you here. I completely forgot you existed for a quick second. I hope I didn''t say anything too weird," Charlie said, making Troy think of all the weird things that had been said not twenty seconds prior. What did that man do in his free time? "It was bearable," Troy acknowledged. Inside, he was extraordinarily happy of not having to hear too much of Charlie¡¯s personal thoughts spoken out loud. Details best kept hidden needed no placement inside Troy¡¯s mind. Nor Adams of course. "What was that about a surprise though? Anything too private for me to know? It has to be something big at least if Darlow needs any chance of becoming awestruck by it." "Who said it was for Darlow?" At that, Troy gave the man his absolute full attention. Those words had innuendos that were best left unexplored. But like the stupidly curious idiot that he was, there was an immediate need to know just a bit more of whatever Charlie was spouting about. "If that surprise is not for Darlow, who exactly is it for?" Troy inquired suspiciously. But also with a small premonition on who the receiver would be. "And even more importantly, what is this so-called surprise composed out of? I am genuinely curious about that part." Charlie looked at Troy like an adult would look at an over-eager, energetic five-year-old. Or in more truthful words, the older of the two looked at the other like he was being a bit stupid, but also really didn''t want to point it out. ''Who was the surprise intended to?` Who was silly enough to ask that? "Like many parts of this place, it would be best if we left it uncovered," Charlie stated, taking his eyes away from the still-curious Troy. "We have to get this whole place decked out in bugs. And it has to be some conveniently placed bugs at that. There has to be under a meter distance between the things. It would also be best if they went unnoticed for a very long while. We are speaking about¡­ one day? Maybe two if we are talking on the extreme end of possibilities. By the twenty-six dimensions, this place really does get looked through too often. It''s almost like he thinks that I regularly put trackers all over him and his things. Anyways¡­ Troy, it would be best if you just begin placing the bugs in the corners of the lower shelves. A man that tall shouldn''t have any reasonable excuse for looking down their right? Here you go, you can just take the whole bag. I have plenty of others on me." He handed Troy a bag of small, round stickers. Or, Troy was at least decently sure of their sticking ability once they were removed from the long piece of paper that they were attached to. The small devices looked nothing like what had been used in his shoes. Much more discreet than those new ones. With such flatness, it would nearly be impossible to tell them apart from a wall without optimal lighting around it. Had Charlie perhaps made the things more advanced, when it came to different people? Maybe he just made the bugs progressively harder to find. It would fit the style of him that Troy had in his mind. Taking one of the bugs off the paper, he experimentally tried touching the newly-exposed surface. Upon a brief touch the slightest bit of skin on his fingertip, it was stuck right on it with no hesitation to hit. There was some serious super glue type of stuff attached to the bugs. Even with some hasty hand-waving, it sat in the same place with no wriggling around at all. That was certainly worrying. Troy did not have any real idea on how to get the bugs off his finger, without hurting it. A few ideas about using on of the knives sitting on the table was lightly debated, a voice, fortunately, came from within. ''If you attempt to pull it off, you will only stick it to another part of your body as well. And, if you use a knife or another sharp implement, it will also stick to it with no problem. Even if you got it off your skin at that point, the location of the knife would be too conspicuous, and would likely ruin Charlie¡¯s idea much earlier than intended,` Adam said to him, the voice as monotone as ever. Though, it could have been confused with one of calmness, with how Troy had been looking at those knives. Without context, it could not have looked too good. Fascination with sharp things was not something he would be able to pull off well. Troy was not feeling like he was being helped. "Well, the thing is still stuck to my bloody finger. Got any other words of wisdom?" This was said in a low muttering, careful for Charlie not to hear him. There was also no mind put to the fact that they were in a completely silent room, and that Charlie also had cochlear implants installed. ''Please refrain yourself from not using sign language to communicate with me. I learned it for a reason after all. To answer your question, I do in fact have words which, when intersected with one another, may contribute to the successful removal of the advanced listening device, while also helping you complete your current assigned task.` Adam then proceeded to guide Troy into finding an acceptably positioned shelf, putting his impaired hand up in just the right way, and successfully making the last sticky part of the bug stick to the ceiling of the shelf. Pulling away with the hand, the only thing lost in the process was a few bits of skin. Nothing too deep, no matter how much Troy winced at the surprising removal. He was even forced to play it off when Charlie inquired about the vocalised pain, saying he had simply slipped his hand into something sharp. After being told to look more around where he was touching, he and Adam worked in tandem to place the bugs as perfectly as possible. It somehow allowed the AI to gather data on how minor appliances were built, so it was taken as an opportunity to research. Troy himself could not really think in what scenario knowing what the exact dimensions of an office shelf were. But, if Adam deemed it important, it had to come up somewhere right? It took about ten minutes before they were done. Having nearly crawled throughout the entirety of the floor, Troy was dismayed to find his trousers dirtied. Usually, any acquired dust would have simply disappeared, only being a figment of an intricately detailed simulation. Now, laying on the actual ground, he was forced to remind himself of his current reality. He was communicating with an entity only though of in science fiction while placing listening devices on one of his friend¡¯s work-spaces. It sounded ludicrous, but Troy could logically state why it was so. And that was weird. "Well, that should do it!" Charlie proclaimed. While Troy had taken the lower parts of the room, Charlie had been in charge of the upper ones. Standing on tables, chairs, and whatever else he could find, the topside of nearly all the shelves had been littered with spying equipment. Even a few things which Troy had no idea about. A speaker perhaps even. "Ready to meet the man of the hour?" Troy could only manage a grin, as he stood up. "Not even close to it." "That''s the spirit! Let''s go!" Chapter 124: Demolition
Adam was saddened by the expeditious pace. In regular testing, the AI had as long a time as he wanted, taking things at the rate he required most. Troy certainly did not like this at first, but the man seemed to have adapted to the observational style that they now used. Constant requests to survey areas had certainly made itself unneeded, as it was done every single time a new room or environment was entered now. It was excellent that this change in attitude befell them. Less time spent, and Troy got to be a little more content, increasing the overall productivity in of itself. Adam had no complaints at all. Well, other than the surveying not being too thorough. As with all physical terrains, it was in more than just two dimensions. This did not allow one to see everything from one point, no matter which direction was being studied. Normally, this would be mitigated by the simple command to walk around the sites and to take note of anything interesting. Such tactics had been used only moments before if only enveloped in a request from another person. It had allowed thorough exploration of what a chemically-focused laboratory was all about. Glass and metal fixtures had certainly shown themselves in plenty, but it was in the machinery which was where the real gold laid. Hidden in the closed-off shelves, Adam was not sure he could even begin to understand their purposes. These fine pieces of intricate machinations were not simple microscopes and the like. They were a whole laboratory in and of itself. In many, small tubes ran along the sides, status-lights on the front showing all kinds of modes, and a cut off inside. On some, there were hatches, which would allow access to the middle. The AI was guessing it to be a container of sorts. And it was certainly not limited to containers! Abstract sensors, weirdly coloured glasses with radiation warnings, and even a few things with warnings against lasers, varying in strength from two to four. Of the latter, only a few were seen, and likely for a good reason. Such powerful devices could not have come cheaply, especially in such small forms. There were so many parts, so many gears in the device that was the whole laboratory. Each machine had its own, unique purpose, ready to be used to its fullest. Without it, the laboratory would not be whole. It would be unable to operate fully. Yet, Adam could not say what that purpose was. Not yet at least. He had hoped to, in the end. Only the lower parts of the laboratory had been searched through. Only the smallest of machinery were hidden down there. The so-called heavy hitters had been ready to make themselves known to Adam, hiding up in the upper shelves. The AI had been ready to make the request. To ask of Troy that he look through the upper shelves as well, no matter what excuse had to be made. Some of the shelves in the upper side of the laboratory had automatic movement systems in them. Adam needed to see why, how, and what hid up there. But, that muscle bond of a man that was Charlie had already finished his part as well. If he was not mistaken, the man had actually finished a minute or two before Troy had been close to doing the same. Yet, instead of making that fact known, he had acted like he was fiddling with the last one instead. Why? Adam had accounted for it as trying not to flare Troy¡¯s possible inferiority complex, but that reasoning did not seem right in the AI¡¯s mind. He hoped to find out soon. When Troy finished with his part as well, they had been hurried away from the laboratory, towards the door to the next room. It was not a glass door, like the many other doors before it, leaving Adam in the dark on what was on the other side. Though if he had to take a guess, it was likely not the laboratory they were currently in. The AI still needed time to search through it. He did not understand the process yet. He needed time to get it through his mind in a full sense, to analyse each part, and put it all together like the big puzzle that it was. But, he did not get to do that, for this situation was not in his control. Adam did not always like the current reality. He wondered how he could fix such a problem in the future. Was time distortion in a localized plan possible? Also without killing Troy of course. That would be a messy deal otherwise, and certainly not one which could be easily benefitted from. "We have to be quiet now, Troy," Charlie instructed, slightly hunched a few meters in front of Troy. The muscled man sat before the still-closed door, fiddling with the door-handle. He never closed down it, though, looking to be more focused on the forces needed to move it to the sides. "This damned door already has the chance of revealing our position, with how damn old it is. Which is weird, because it certainly wasn''t like that last time I checked, and that can''t be too long ago. Darlow should be standing around somewhere in the next room. It is my current goal in life to scare the ever-living crap out of him. A side-objective would be to make him swear in a language neither of us will ever understand ourselves. I will go first. You stay to the sides, trying to stay out of sight. Try not to complain or exclaim when you see the room. I promise you. It is not that interesting when you get a better look at it. No bloody good machinery to speak of. Do you get the plan? Because I am already halfway to forgetting it myself." Side-loping the potential early-onset dementia that Adam was seeing for himself, Troy looked to have grasped it quickly enough. Giving Charlie a quick nod, he got his body closer to the floor quickly enough. Not enough to hinder forward movement, but enough to force someone of average height to look slightly down. From what was written down about Darlow¡¯s height, this technique would work better than it had any right to do. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. With a slow twist of the door-handle, the door itself slowly opened itself up. A quick thought was put to poor planning, with the centre of mass not being well placed, but that was quickly refuted with a point towards the utility of an automatically opening door. Manually pushed carts could easily fit through the door frame. Having to push the door itself away had the potential of jolting the containers held within the hypothetical cart, causing an unintended kinetic reaction. Adam was not sure what was normally worked on within the laboratory, but one could never be too sure. Even the pillars of table salt could cause unwanted mass-destruction. If improperly used at the very least. Charlie went in first, his steps not being perceived in sound. If not for Troy¡¯s direct stare at them, Adam would not even have realised that the other man had moved. Whatever method was used to nullify the sound, the AI wanted to know it. It was likely done by the shoes, however ordinary they may have looked. The silvery shine was being more and more likely to be coming from actual metal. Adam wondered how much the shoes weighed. It had to be next to nothing, with the ease Charlie was moving in them. Or, had the man tempered his body, just to use the equipment with no hindrance? Some humans did seem to have enough dedication from their craft, to do such acts of passion. With a look to the left, Adam was able to see Charlie grinning smugly. Looking back at Troy, a nod of the head let them know that they needed to get moving. The big finale was coming up. ''It seems that you are expected to move forward.`, Adam sent to Troy. The man likely did not need to be told, having clearly understood the message himself. Yet, hesitation had been clear in the lack of movements. New stimuli were always the safest way to get the prior ones to seem petty in comparison. Troy responded to the AI instantly, making a quick series of hand-signs which would just about mean ''Oh, really?` Adam did not mind the intended passive-aggressiveness in the slightest, seeing as it allowed them to get moving. With the body still in a crouched position, they moved through the doorway, and into the much brighter room. The difference in light-strength had blurred the inside of the new room slightly, stopping the AI from peeing inside early. Yet, when Troy¡¯s eyes finally adjusted fully, Adam was saddened that he had been made to wait for it to be revealed to him. Where the earlier room had been draped in metallic and pure white colouring schemes, this one was anything but standard. It would not be too far from the truth to say, that the room had been filled with small explosions of paint that had been scattered through on the walls. Not a single piece of colouring could have been called symmetrical. It was pure, unadulterated chaos. No matter how unbecoming it may have seemed on its own, it did fit quite nicely with the other additions to the room. Cages upon cages, made of what looked like an iron alloy, were stacked upon each other in one of the far corners. They may have looked small at first glance, but upon further inspection, it was obvious that they could fit a full-grown human easily enough. It was a trick of the mind, Adam not realising how massive the room was, being easily ten meters in each direction. And this was not the only abstract piece of furniture that was housed inside. On the other side of the room, opposite of where Troy and Charlie had come in from, stood Darlow silently, using a knife to chop a variety of different foods down. Adam only paid him a small bit of mind currently, too focused on the room itself. Behind the tall man was a massive window, stretching up to the ceiling high above them. It showed what the AI could only surmise as a collection of smaller environments. Deserts, forests, and even a lake or two were all present. It was a long way down to them, as they looked to be in a massive room the size of what Adam had estimated an airship hangar to be. Small figures could also be seen in smaller environments. No guesses as to what these figures were could be made. Troy¡¯s eyes were too out of focus for any meaningful details to be made. On the last side of the room stood a variety of electronic devices. This included a good chunk of screens, each showing their own view of some animal or another. It was made from above, giving the AI a good idea on where the cameras themselves were located. The rest looked to be servers, composed of the usual bundles of fibre-cables going every direction possible. Whoever had set it up had not had any kind of wire-system in mind, chaos clearly shown in it. Adam wondered if they had been the one to design the wall-paintings as well. With the interior observed to a superficially satisfactory level, the focus was put back on the event before them. Charlie had slowly been making his way forward, steadily closing in on Darlow. Adam had been worried that the sound created by the not-too quiet Troy would cause unwanted tension, but it seemed that any worries were misplaced. Darlow had been wearing what looked to be larger headphones. From the small hums coming from the tall man, it would be safe to say that he was listening to a fast-paced musical experience. And from the slight hint of music that Troy was able to pick up, and from the fact that such headphones were known to be extremely sound-proof, making noise was not among the AI¡¯s worries. Adam doubted that Darlow would hear anything if Troy spoke at normal levels. From their current position, the taller man was cutting up a large variety of meat, fish, vegetables and fruit. Great efforts were put into having them apart, with the knife being frequently cleaned. The cutting-board also had a similar effort put into it. The products were assorted into square plastic boxes for themselves. A sticker was afterwards put on them before Darlow continued with the next piece to cut up. Adam enjoyed the sight. Despite having so much interaction with the personnel of the facility, he had never been able to see them work. Communication during their work-hours had certainly been made, but nothing about the things themselves that they did day-to-day. From the looks of it, despite Darlow being in the department specialising in biological pheromones, the current task was to cut up various assortments of edible plants and meats. The AI would have never guessed it! The laboratory scene would have been expected, not any of the practical work. His own view of what it meant to work was flawed. This was helping clear up so many things. And it would certainly clear up yet another fact. What reaction would a man with a knife make, when he is suddenly scared from behind. With extremely careful and slightly overdone steps, Charlie got ever closer to the tall giant. Adam would have expected Troy to portray his normal reaction of worry. That was expected nowadays. When under stress, the AI had not found the man to react that well. Yet, aside from the slightly increased heartbeat, Troy looked to be as excited as ever. Could it be that the man enjoyed others in pain? It was a possibility that needed to be considered. Ignoring it could provide more problems down the temporal line. In but a moment, Charlie hooked his fingers into the sides of Darlow. Darlow shrieked in tones higher than the AI had ever heard come from the mouth of a human. "Mallacht mo chait ort!" Language lessons were always appreciated, however short they might be. Adam could just not understand why Troy had ever complained about such free knowledge. Chapter 125: Habilitation
Adam had watched many things transpire in his life. While he might not have any remembrance of anything before a week ago, the AI felt that he had gotten a general idea of the world around him. Things could surprise him, yes, but not in the way that they had only days ago. The mind had been tempered by a constant influx of sensation, concepts, and memories, creating a being capable of understanding a small bit of the chaos that was reality. Seeing Charlie smoothly put his hands deep into Darlow¡¯s pants, before swinging the tall man around while also singing happy praises about the day that it was? Adam could not say he had expected that. "It is a day of laughter! A day of happiness. Can you not smile with us, so we can feel a unity never felt before?" Charlie sang, the verses not being close to rhyming. Though, doing so intentionally was likely the point. Improvisation did not let one preplan many steps. While the muscled man obviously enjoyed the action of swinging, the tall man just as obviously did not enjoy being swung. In the time it took Darlow to realise what situation he was currently finding himself in, a very understandable reaction had been forthcoming. "You piece of dolphin dick! What are you doing?" Darlow shouted at the tops of his lungs. The AI found it disappointing to find that the maximum volume able to be produced by a human did not scale with the approximated size of the person. From Adam¡¯s findings, the capabilities of the voice stayed the same on average, no matter the height that the person was. In actuality, it was currently the shortest of persons who had made the most noise. A fascinating discovery which he was more than happy to finagle with more. Charlie looked to have found Darlow¡¯s louder complaints humourous, laughing uproariously at them. All the while, the song was continued if only in spirit. Adam was not even sure it could have called it one. The rhyming was as existent as it had been before, and the beat of the music had been degraded into whatever it felt like becoming. And since a musical beat did not have the ability to have opinions, it was given an automatic null value, becoming as non-existent as the rhyming scheme. "Watch your language, young man! There is no need to feel down. I said, young man, get your head up into the sky. Enjoy yourself and fly!" Charlie proclaimed, continuing to use the mediocre levels of musical talents that he had. From the very obvious struggling from the side of Darlow, the tall man did not seem to have listened too carefully to Charlie¡¯s words. Either that, or he was ignoring them fully¡­ the latter was most likely the correct answer. It could have been seen as a positive thing, that the knife used to cut with had been lost at the beginning of the struggle. Being taken from behind did have a very immediate quality to it, namely the release of whatever was being held in one¡¯s hand, in favour of trying to get out of the assailants grasp. Such actions might not always be the greatest of reactions made by humanity, but it was done in instinct by their bodies. And, it was not as if such situations were common for those beings nowadays. However much a surprise attack gave as an advantage, there was always a breaking point. A point where the surprise would be over and the two sides stood on equal ground, the effects of the first attack hanging loose in the air. If the one who attacked was equal physically as well, the battle would likely turn in their favour. If the opposite was true, though, and no real wounds had occurred during the ambush, the results would summarily invert themselves. Charlie was much over the average when it came to muscle mass. He had the strength that could outmatch most, if not all of the people that Adam had yet to meet. But¡­ he was constricted in many ways. His height was one of them. Even being slightly above average, his total mass could not come close to that of Darlow¡¯s. While the tall man might have looked spindly in form, one could only weigh so little when they were so absurdly tall. With an especially strong twist of the legs, the centre of mass changed drastically for the two, forcing Charlie into a more open stand, else they would have both fallen on the floor. Meanwhile, this also allowed Darlow to get a sure footing on the table. With a strong push downwards, in which the more muscled of the two were temporarily suspended in mid-air, the tall man got himself freedom. Instinctual need for balance had forced Charlie¡¯s hands to move on their own, spreading out to give the needed balancing weights. Adam was enamoured with the actions done before him. An unexpected occurrence, an unknown assailant, and an immediate disadvantage. With all that against Darlow, the AI had expected a quick defeat. Struggles would have obviously been made. Such was life, not giving up without some form of resistance. Yet, the result should have been the same as it started with. Darlow hanging in the air, kept hold of by Charlie. Yet it certainly had not been so. The environment that was not fitting for any fighting back was used nonetheless. No matter how little opportunity there had been for catching the table with his legs, Darlow had made it happened. It had likely taken hastily made preparation, and small amounts of pain from the quick movement, but information about personal profiles had been used to his advantage. Through quick wit, the tall man had triumphed in a situation deemed unbeatable. It just stood to show that the AI was not always omniscient and that even he could calculate the wrong odds. Darlow clearly had better chances, to begin with. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Who is looking so mighty now, huh?" Darlow asked from atop the metal table. With his natural height and the additional location present, the man was nearing a total of four meters. Though, that might have been a gross overestimation. Adam was too focused on the event before him. A great feat for one so talented in multi-tasking. Contrary to what the AI had expected, Charlie was quick to turn his goals. In just a moment, after a quick meter or two of retreat, the muscled man prostrated himself before the tall one. The head hit the floor quick enough for it to be picked up by Troy¡¯s ears. Intentionally done or not, it certainly could not have been painless. "Oh, spare me, great one! I have but followed the orders of my superior. It is he who stands back who is the true mind before this attack of which you foiled. Good job on that front, by the way." Charlie proclaimed. The last sentence was a bit out of place, more than likely be a last-minute addition to the entendre. This time hearing what words Charlie had to speak, it was likely first at that moment that Darlow the presence of another being. Adam was also there of course, but the tall man was not likely to realise that though. Charlie, however¡­ "Troy?" Darlow said, befuddled by the younger man¡¯s presence. "What are you doing here? Do you not have work to get to?" Charlie looked more than ready to continue his bit, but a swift glare from the elevated one silenced him, if only temporarily. A shame. Adam would have loved to learn how such a thing would work. Social pressure might have been the most present factor, but would it not be more enjoyable if an¡­ let''s say, physical pressure was present as well? It would certainly make it more interesting than it currently was. The AI was already so focused on social mechanics. The physical mechanics had not been focused on much, after their brief introduction near the start of his life. Silencing humans with but a glare, while using such mechanics, would have been great reasoning to start up this particular research front. Alas, it was not so. Maybe Adam could request tests about the subject later on? It was an idea at least. The AI was momentarily worried about having to make Troy answer the question. A whole second had gone by, and no signs of the younger man expressing himself vocally had been found. No tensing on the throat, and certainly no stops of regular breath-intake. Yet, in the final second, before it became an awkward silence, Troy made impressive feats once again. Any potentially sadistic enjoyment out of seeing Darlow in an agitated state was wiped off his face, replaced with what Adam could only classify as child-like innocence. While the man might have been older than the use of the expression would allow, it worked surprisingly well on him. The AI had to severely rethink strategy meetings. If this had the expected level of effectiveness, a whole new avenue of action would be unlocked. Ignorance could truly be an effective working, in more than just a mass scale. "I was just holding up a promise," Troy stated. "I do not have anything on my work-schedule today, so Charlie advised me to get the tour of the place now. After all, if we get here early, we could enter here without distracting you in performing the more delicate parts of your work process. Alongside that, weren''t you a biologist? Like, the type that works in a room like the one before this one, and not one which works in¡­ whatever this place is supposed to be?" Before Darlow even had the chance to answer Troy¡¯s words, or much less just understand what had been said, Charlie had already removed himself from his compromising position. Settling back into his usual spiel, the tall man was not quick enough to temporarily stop the man again. "See! Our intentions are as sweet as they are innocent!" Charlie proclaimed, facing Darlow directly, front against the front, also with his hands behind his back. Using Troy¡¯s eyes, Adam could see Charlie giving them thumbs up. The younger man¡¯s talent in deceit had grown as of late. If not for the chance of disturbing the built-up concentration, the AI would have made a similar note of confidence. The growth, while not exponential, was still something to be proud of. It would not be too hard to state that Troy could have fooled Adam twenty hours prior. "Look at that face, and tell me you do not see a swollen wound of truthfulness. That expression is too bloody die for? The kid is really understating it. He was afraid of even coming here today. That it would be too dangerous because the two of us might accidentally destroy some of your previous work. Bollocks to that, I say!" The muscled man continued his banter with himself, much to the slight amusement of Darlow. Adam could see the man trying to keep it within, but such actions were clearly done poorly. Really, those humans needed training on those skills, if they wanted anything done better. Sure, it would hamper the AI¡¯s slightly, but more showings of emotions could always be found with time. An infinite progression of skill would not go unappreciated. An arms war that did not possess the chance of causing shared mutual destruction. Where was the negative side to that? Other than how it would be instigated of course. Having clearly decided to ignore the words said by Charlie, Darlow hopped back down on the floor, walking right over towards Troy himself. This did not cause any spikes of a pulse at all. The younger man had clearly been expecting it. Yet another point of praise towards him. Adam should probably begin keeping note of the accomplishments shown. General praise was always appreciated, but giving specific events additional attention was a sure way to show Genuity in one¡¯s words. And more importantly, the release of chemicals would allow better work to be had. "Are you sure that you don''t have anything on your schedule? Misprints can always be made, even in the most overlooked of times. If you are not completely certain, I think it would be best if you go to your work-place immediately. Getting an earful within your first month of working here will not be good for first impressions," Darlow stated, as both advice and warnings. It was good to know such camaraderie existed in the human world. To ignore prior made deals, and taking the job-security of another as a strict priority. That list looked as if it needed to be expanded. And Adam would have to find out how he could commend the tall man for his action without revealing his existence. "I have already gotten a similar warning from Charlie," Troy answered reassuringly. "I have gotten what is commonly known as a ''day off''. According to the talking man behind you, that is rare in your cases. Again, it is not a mistake. The free day was only here due to a necessity for it. Paying me for working today would only be money wasted. Budgets and all that, you know." The answer seemed to alleviate some of Darlow¡¯s concern. It was at least enough for him to hone back on a still-talking Charlie. The muscly man had not stopped talking at that point, but he might have gone slightly off track again. Currently, the topic was on the interdimensional politics of ludo. Something Adam was surprised could be about with such comprehensive arguments. He had never thought of serfs in such away. Not that he had really ever thought about them before, but still. "Hey, dolphin dick," Darlow nearly shouted. Again, such absurd name-calling was heard. The AI could not understand the need for such morbid descriptions. Adam had thought himself immunized to such wordings from Troy¡¯s own spoutings, but it was clear that he had only just stepped into what truly was a great sea. "Yeah?" Charlie asked. Adam did not think he should have answered to it, but each primate to their own. Bad decisions had to be made at some point. Only, people did not seem to remember that mistakes lived on just as well. "Should we get this tour rolling? I don''t have all day, in contrast to other people here." They were finally getting somewhere. Adam hoped that it would include the animals. He liked animals, even if they would eat him if had the ability to. ¡­ It was a little messed up that he thought in such ways. The AI hoped to rectify such mistakes, no matter how little he wanted to. Chapter 126: Ingeneration
Troy felt the tour a bit boring. According to the tall man guiding them around, they needed the grand tour, to really appreciate what they saw. He just wanted to see the animals. The screens showed them, and Troy had been able to see the elevator leading to them. Yet, that was being saved for last. A good way to say that it was the most interesting thing there. Or, one could call it the only interesting thing there. As they say, once you have seen one technologically advanced laboratory, you have seen them all. Those things must have been made on a damn conveyor belt because they all looked identical. Even the spots dust gathered were the same. Troy couldn''t say anything other than calling the people making the things precise. They had the process down to a hair. Even the people looked alike. The general descriptions would be a minimum age of fifty, a half-way bald head, and a raspy voice that would put most life-long smokers to shame. The last one may have been extremely biased, as they had only talked to one other guy. And, he had kinda told the touring group to get the hell out of his laboratory. Troy hadn''t liked the man, and neither had the other two. Charlie had discreetly thrown a few magnets into one of the corners. It was a good thing Darlow hadn''t seen it, or they would probably have been kicked out already. Adam sent several messages throughout their tour. Each was as identical as the laboratories seen. The AI wanted them to get through the doors into the advanced research rooms. Troy was not sure that was the actual name for the things, but he was not going to question it. The dedicated bearer of the earpiece had tried to help make the AI¡¯s wishes come to fruition. He really had! Yet, there was something about security clearances being in a twist. Troy did have the clearance for it of course. That had been confirmed by Dr Hale several days ago. Yet¡­ the automatic security doors had no way to know that. They needed a card for that. A card that Troy was not currently in possession of. Darlow, who had readily accepted the request, did not know this. Darlow did not have a high enough clearance to willy-nilly go where he oh so pleased, so Troy had to open the door for them. With the card, he did not have. That had been a large whirl of extrapolated excrement. It was only through the saving of Charlie that the minor detail had not been revealed. The man comically tried to pin a bug to Darlow¡¯s clothes, slapping a lower part of the tall man''s body as well. Not his ass. His knees. After that unexpected falling to the ground, and a few other misadventures that followed, it was decided to put the tour on route to more private areas, where Darlow wouldn''t be publically humiliated. There was a quick stop at the snack bar, which Troy felt utterly cheated on not having in his workplace. It was apparently work-protocol to have such a thing standing at the ready. Low blood sugar was an important issue to hinder respectively. Troy had a small idea of the snack-bar being Dr Fidelis¡¯ secret lunch place. Dr Hale would have to be used as a source for information if he wanted to find the truth of that. After that shortened half-hour tour, they had reached back to the only point Troy was mildly curious about. Not that he had said as such. Darlow had been doing this for his benefit only. He was the one interested in the man¡¯s workplace. Darlow had taken time out of his work so he could do this. Troy should have felt bad for having the mere thought of feeling bored. Not that that stopped him from being slightly bored but still. His acting skill had gone up from all of it. Staying in character as a curious little fellow was easy enough. At least it was better than just having to be stoic all the time. That had to be extremely irritating. ¡­ What was it with all that projecting as of late? "Ready for the big finale, Troy?" Charlie asked from the sound, that stupid grin of his firmly placed on his face. Troy knew exactly why it was there. While Darlow had been getting too distracted in being publicly humiliated, the muscular man had spent the time planting bags upon bags of bugs. Tossing them was apparently a design feature, as they would land perfectly, before turning into the colour of the surroundings. Even a few simple patterns had been copied. The only indication of them even being there anymore had been from the slight bump they created. What was Charlie using them for? To mess with Darlow of course. But then the heavy question came off, why were they being put everywhere, including the areas outside of where the tall man worked? Was this the usual perhaps? Would heavy sighs be had, before Darlow would be forced to painstakingly remove them? That would be harsh. Most importantly, would Troy get forced to do the same, seeing as he was kinda a co-conspirator? ¡­ Troy would be checking with Charlie after this. There had to be some self-implosion thing on the bugs. Otherwise, it was going to get very annoying. "I am as ready as my mind allows," Troy said, a more subdued smile on his face. Enough to look excited, but not enough look as if he had a cocaine addiction. From his experiences, there was a fine line between happiness and severe drug addiction. It took a skilled person to trek that line, without taking the slightest amount of pills. And Troy was not that skilled yet. "That is good enough for me," Darlow said, opening the door. They entered their starting point, the large room coming into view. The screens to the side were the same as them when Troy left them. A near uncountable amount of creatures were observed in their natural habitats, as they moved around as they pleased. The cameras followed them from above, diagnostics about various health numbers being shown to the side. Pulse, blood pressure, muscle-fibre activation, and various other things Troy did not care the least spit about was all there to see. A few extra were given to survey the numbers, Troy doing his best to get every number into view at least once. He knew Adam would want the data, no matter how little they mattered to them. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Darlow guided them towards the large window in front of them. Troy had not been near it before, stopping him from seeing exactly what was on the other side. It was a long dropdown. The human mind could not comprehend such distances. Troy was not different. It was more down fifty meters and less than a thousand. Much alcohol would have to be consumed before any chance of survival from falling from here would exist. Twenty stories maybe? In circle habitats, encased in what Troy could only call habitual-domes, various natural environments stood. The domes were mostly transparent, on some of them. In them were plains, deserts, and lakes. Other domes were not nearly as see-through. Some had obvious differences in temperatures, causing the glass to grow opaque. Others had fog inside them, obscuring everything inside. The moisture in the air also seemed to be working against them, the inside of a few greener environments being covered in glossed water. "It''s a nice view, sprout," Charlie remarked from the side. Looking over at the man, Troy did not see anything showing that he was looking at the larger room before them. Instead, Charlie was simply looking at the screens. Maybe he was more interested in the animals? Perhaps. "Mind giving us a few background explanations? Something to really cause a deep dive into our psyches?" Darlow looked over at Charlie, a tired look on his face. "Is that your way of asking, what I do for a living?" "Mostly for the benefit of Troy here, of course. I certainly remember¡­ kinda," Charlie said. Troy betted on the man remembering perfectly. "Guess I can''t expect that much more," Darlow acknowledged. The tall man looked over the work of several dedicated years, before getting into teaching mode. "I work in the department of biological pheromones, so it might just surprise you that I work with those. For the past few years, I have been working on more wide-spread uses for them, and how it would be possible to spread them efficiently. How much does it take for it to take effect? How do we control dosing, if it isn''t in a controllable state of matter? What I am working with can kill anything, if it takes enough. A single breath if more than enough for the intended result. Yet, creatures don''t take a single breath, now do they? They continue breathing for as long as they live. The fix was easy enough when it comes to pure logistics. It''s also a very bad one, but it is the only one that has worked successfully, so we don''t get too worried about it. Pheromones don''t last forever. They take effect, the chemicals are processed. They change the body, do all kinds of freaky stuff to it, and then they get expelled, maybe leaving lasting changes. Or maybe they don''t. It does not matter. Our goal is for them to work indefinitely. To continually run through the body for as long as we want. To affect the body for as long as we want. No damage done in the end would be best. What we are currently doing is crude. It can work indefinitely with what we are currently working with, but with others, it will be useless. The micro-doses of micro-doses. Instead of having enough for the effects to work in a single breath, we have made the doses so small that they aren''t registered for several hours. Even then, when the body notices that it isn''t doing its job as intended, the process only expels the pheromones as quickly as it comes in. Continual upkeep makes them affected for as long as they need. But, when it comes to such small doses, the needed numbers change. Creatures need different amounts. What can''t faze a dog could kill a mouse. The pheromones disintegrate naturally, fortunately. After a while, the bugs get a hold of the stuff and make it all disappear. This allows very controlled amounts in specific areas. We could hold a bubble of the stuff right in the face of a creature and keep it there, without anybody knowing the wiser. But, we do not know what is needed for each. That is what we are doing now. Every bubble has its own little creature inside. Or creatures with some. With the pheromones being directed to that type of creature, most others are not of the capability where they can survive the stuff. Those that can have been killed by us. Wouldn''t want them to kill or harm our test subject. That leaves personnel to get them food. Or, in more direct terms, it leaves me to get them something to eat. I spend every morning cutting up little food boxes to each of them. Some get more later in the day, but most can survive peacefully with one big lunch." Troy looked back over to the screen, their output making so much more sense. Drugged up animals, huh? He was almost jealous of the position. "So, do you feed them on your own as well?" Troy asked, this time genuinely curious. There were more boxes on the table than any person could carry by themself. The insides of them likely had a collective weight of Charlie, and that was saying something. How long had Darlow spent just chopping away? Had to be more than a few hours. "Oh, yes. In the first few rounds at least. My assistant will first come in¡­ three hours," Darlow said, checking the time on his watch. "It really does something, feeding all of those animals. My thighs have definitely gotten better, carting all that meat around. My spine will pop out one of these days. It really is a shame how my assistant does not wake up for some more time¡­" An overdone sigh was given along with the speech. Troy wanted to mirror it. Darlow was not good at manipulating people. The selling point should have been delayed a bit more, and he might have thought it genuine. But, here he was, having to play an act that only brought him more work. "Charlie and I could help you," Troy said. "Are you sure?" Darlow asked, those puppy eyes of his not being well-worked. That glint of satisfaction was not that hidden. "Yeah, Troy. Are you sure?" Charlie said from the side, with that kind of look. The man would undoubtedly accept if asked, but there wasn''t anybody asking. This was all self-damnation. "Those boxes aren''t looking like they smell great." "Oh, yeah, they smell horrid," Darlow agreed. "You get used to the stench after an hour, but I will not put it behind you if you puke. I did that myself a few times. A few of the creatures get small pieces of raw meat as desserts. Good for the digestive system apparently." The things Troy did too hold himself together. ''Are you sure? We can surely still see the animals, even if we don''t assist in the task before us.` They very likely could. But, that would be seen as backing down from an offer. A regression from the pre-established mental-profile. Small deviance to be sure, but it was still there. Those things added up in the long run. It would not do to make those in situations where they were not needed. Nothing was stopping Troy from handling very disgusting food-products, other than his personal inhibitions. Those had been ignored before. They could be ignored again. "I already offered. You can handle it yourself. It wouldn''t do for me not to follow in your footsteps. And, we do kinda owe you for the guided tour, no matter how shortened it may have been." The kind words won the tall man over. He even looked a bit guilty. Troy couldn''t blame him for that. He was being played. "Well, if you are sure. Grab as many boxes as you can. It is time to feed a few beasties." Troy hoped spiders would be out of the running. Chapter 127: Corradiation
Troy had never been more happy, seeing that the place had an elevator. If he had been forced to walk up and downstairs, with over twenty kilos worth of pungent food, he might just have gone back on his words. By that point, there was not a shred of doubt that Darlow had vomited on his first round. He was not even holding the foulest of the things, being left with middle-aged fruits and vegetables. There had been some old eggs in there somewhere as well, but sulphur could be dealt with. It had been before. How was that tall man holding himself together? Troy could clearly see the discomfort in the man. Yet, there was not an ounce of wrong colouring present. He was holding up admirably. Was this the power of adaptation? Being in such a putrid environment, that the brain just decided that was normal. What godly amount was he getting paid, so he would do this willingly? There might have been some jealousy of the easy-looking work, but Troy really understood why the paycheck was so high now. The elevator itself was not the finest quality. It looked to have been taken straight from the workplace of an older building, one which was over the fifty years of age. It might just have been a relic of the facility. The sharp, white lights on the sides, the ancient camera in the inner corner, and those manually controlled buttons told of many years being used. How old was the place he stood? It might just be older than the country itself, where the new simply took hold of the old. Some of the older personnel had plenty of gaps, where they had to have worked somewhere. Was it so hard to believe that some might remember a time, where they stood on the ground owned by a forgotten country? The one before the current one had not lasted long either. Under a hundred and fifty years of existence. To others, that might have been an eternity. The countries older than fifty years could be counted on one hand. Older than a hundred, and only two remained. Recent history had not been kind to that before it. Troy himself had lived longer than twenty of them. One of the newer was a superpower in of itself. A coalition of people had gained total domination over a large part of the world, in the time it took him to grow up a little. So much had been done, so much had been overturned. How long till a new line of people grew? How long until a new flag had to be created? If it was following the same pattern as before, it would not be too long. Or, if worse came to predictions, there might never be another flag created, for there would be no need. "Scooch in a little," Charlie said. Holding more than Troy weighed, the muscular man was seemingly having trouble getting inside the elevator. The thing was not the largest, likely only intended for personnel-transportation. That could explain why they didn''t have a thing to cart the products around with. It simply wouldn''t be able to fit. As one positive thing, the elevator did have a high enough weight-limit. As long as nobody grew enough to weigh a ton, no problems would be had¡­ probably. Troy wondered if the elevator had been checked for flaws lately. This thing was only hanging on cables. A frightening concept. Darlow came in as the last. With everybody settled inside, one of the many buttons were pressed, and they moved downwards. A slight jump was had in the first second of movement. The brief expectation of swift death had been had, and Troy was finding it easier and easier to fear old technology. Who would have thought it safe to hang people on ropes? If they had already gone so far from sanity, they could have just used some stairs! Elevators were better than they were before. Instead of putting all the trust into ropes subjected to constant wear and tear, magnets were now being used. Each would be replaced under any sign of damage or loss of efficiency. The costs were low, the energy was even lower, and the chance of error was negligible. Troy did a quick look around. No, they were still in the elevator. His attempt at distracting himself from the death machine he was standing inside was not working. ''Your heart-rate is growing. Are you having a panic attack?`Adam sent in an inquiry. He would be breathing a bit quicker in a second or two as well. It was not looking great with that pulse of his, with how far it went up. Positively skyrocketed. A deep breath or two was not doing as much as Troy was hoping it would. Things were not looking good. Wiggling the fingers holding the boxes, Troy attempted some kind of signal to show a negative. He might have had some anxiety-induced stuff going on, but it wasn''t a full-on panic attack. If it turned, he would just be a bit more sweaty than he would want to be. No biggie. Nothing bad at all. The AI did not send anything more. He did not mind too much, as the elevator had finally stopped itself. After a mild idea of something having gone wrong, the death machine finally opened its doors. Troy would have likely bolted out, if not for the two standing before him and unknowingly preventing from doing so. Getting out of the thing, Troy was able to see just how bad the brain was at judging distances. The place was massive. The domes were large in themselves, large enough for animals to comfortably live in them. That there were rows upon rows of them set up, it did set a good image of how gargantuan the place was. "Was this place built for this purpose?" Troy asked, following Darlow. The tall man had started walking towards the first row, so the other two followed without complaint. They had not done this before, so following the experience was on par with what was expected of them. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "I am not really sure, to be honest," Darlow answered, giving as much of a shrug as he could in his current state. "This should be one of the oldest places in the facility. Might even be a part of the oldest. I think this was a simple warehouse back in the day. There certainly is a place for it. But a decade or two ago, it was refurbished with almost everything there was to want, and we were given access to it." Troy was spot on with the age at least. "What other old places are there?" Troy asked. It wasn''t really related to Darlow¡¯s work, being more of personal curiosity. "Well, that should be everything under us. Go a level down, and you will find most of the old parts. Good luck getting down there though. Nobody uses it anymore, so there really aren''t many reasons to remember how to get down there. And, seeing as there aren''t any maps of this place, that we are allowed to know of at least, it would be best to treat them as not existing." Not the answer that was wanted. Troy had hoped for something more specific. But, purposefully or not, it did answer one question, which had been on his mind. Throughout his stay at the facility, there was not a single time he had walked up or down a real set of stairs. It was all flat. Troy had accounted for them being near the surface, and them not being allowed to get up on the ground. Or, maybe there was nothing up there, and they just weren''t able to get up. The same thing with getting deeper down. It could have just been too expensive to get further down. Wide areas with no depth instead of tight areas that are deep. It all made sense, in his little head. But the idea of there being more floors had not gone away. And now he knew the reason why. Day to day, they were standing above the old foundations. The old parts of the facility. The place really was old, older than most people. If the technology was so old, that it was more affordable to completely build something new above, it had to be several countries old. It might even have existed when¡­ what countries existed then? Germany? Yeah, that long ago. When small countries only first attempted to unify, this place was hidden under the ground. So many secrets were likely created within the very walls Troy stood beside. What had been said? What has been done? He would likely never know. Or with how old the secrets were, they were likely declassified by now. Would Adam be declassified? Some documents are regularly deleted, burned, and bombed to be kept secret. It would be hard, it would require much work, but Troy did not doubt that the AI would be kept in secrecy for as long as they could. The potential was better than the simple attempts at mind-control many decades ago. "Hurry now, you two," Darlow said from the front, trying to make the other two walk a bit faster. The tall man either did not realise the advantage long legs gave him, or he just could not care about it. A quick stride for him was a slow jog for Troy. Add onto the packages being carried, and Troy suddenly realised why that snack bar was so revered. "Of course, my good sir," Charlie said, going up in speed. Troy simply made a grunt-like noise, trying to do the same. It was exhausting, it was hard, and it would not be the only time that it would be done today. Standing around for several hours being bored was looking more and more fun, as time passed by. With their hurried pace, of which only one was showing exhaustion by, they had reached the first dome. It stood twenty meters tall and double as wide. A small entrance was in front of it, just where the three were standing. Darlow put down his packages, the action mirrored by the two others again, before looking around on the nametags. "Look for the name Sumatran Tiger. Or Scarface. Could be either," Darlow said, getting crouched to have a better look at the boxes. Like before, Charlie did as instructed, beginning to look through a large number of boxes with each having a nametag. Troy, however, did not. "Did you just say something about a tiger?" Troy asked. Darlow looked at him, confused at first but quickly understanding the facial expression shown. "Yes. And I¡¯ll let you pet it if you find the nametag. Hurry now, Troy. Not all of us have all day to diddle around," Darlow answered, doing his best to go through his own boxes. In actuality, the tall man was holding himself back from laughing in anticipation. One did not become friends with Charlie without some amount of sadism in the blood. Troy wanted to ask another question, but the normal expression on Darlow¡¯s face led him to believe that he was the weird one. Which was weird, because he could distinctly remember tigers as very feared creatures. Cause, you know, they could kill unarmed people easily. The man even remembered running from one in fear mere days ago, even if it only was simulated. Were there different meanings to the word tiger perhaps? Troy should have remembered such a weird thing, but then again, this memory had betrayed him before at the direst of times. He went back to sorting through his boxes, looking for the word tiger or¡­ Scarface. A very gentle name for something not at all scary. To his own abject fear, he turned out to be the one in possession of the box. On it was a very nice depiction of the nickname, coloured with what looked like red paint. A bad design choice, seeing as the box itself was also red. The aesthetic had certainly been thrown away, in the hopes that the atmosphere would solve the problems caused. "I have the box," Troy notified the tall man of. "Your voice is grave, Troy," Darlow noted. "Are you not happy to have found it? We can finally get a move on now." "I am very happy," Troy said, not feeling very happy at all. It took much effort not to sound too stiff. "That is great," Darlow remarked back, a smile fitting to be on Charlie plastered on his face. "If I remember my promise correctly, you will be getting to go in and feed the beast. We will be behind you of course. I can not miss out on it, and neither will Charlie I''m guessing." They were both in on it! Troy should have known something was happening. Charlie had grown a smile matching Darlow¡¯s. They were meant to be innocent, but what was hidden beneath was not easily obscured. They knew what would happen the moment Troy opened the door to the inside. Yet, he could not get out of it. A gift could not be returned after all. Or, so the tale said. Troy had never read it himself, but he knew the ending as well as anybody. Curiosity killed the cat. Yet, was there not something about satisfaction at the end? A slight gamble was made, for ti to be the same here. Otherwise, the man would in a world of trouble. Walking slowly forward, the box of meat in hand, the door was reached. It had only been a few meters away after all. Yet, standing before it then, it seemed so much larger than before. Troy would likely have begun trembling if they had not commenced so earlier. The door was opened to the inside. With eyes not wanting to look within, a step was taken. Once inside, Troy opened his eyes, letting him see¡­ another door. "It''s a security feature. Cant have the creatures running around freely, now, can we?" Darlow said, answering the unsaid question. " With the tension gone, Troy bolted through the next door, not waiting for it to grow back. He hit his face one the door, it not budging in the slightest. Charlie snorted but kept himself grounded. "Another security feature. It would be pointless to have both doors open," Darlow said, finally closing the door once both him and Charlie got inside the small space. Troy was a bit more subdued in pulse, as he successfully opened the door this time. The embarrassment was much more prevalent in his mind. There was not even a sound said, when the tiger was beside the door, waiting for their arrival. Chapter 128: Alimentation
"Oh calm down now, Troy. It is just a tiger!" Charlie said from behind, laughing like the damn jerk that he was. The booming voice made the very large Sumatran tiger whip its head towards the two standing behind a bit, before making a pitiful retreat. Troy could only look on, flabbergasted at what just ensued before him. It had jumped towards him. He had seen his life flash before his eyes. Very short, not nearly worth the experience, and a bit sad at the end. Overall it was five out of ten. The food was great at least. There was not a shred of him ready to die, but it seemed like that was what was supposed to have happened not ten seconds ago. Troy saw it jump. Saw the corded muscle snatch in place, the back legs putting extreme amounts of pressure on the ground. He had seen it fly, landing just beside him. But¡­ he had also seen it sitting down like a dog, waiting patiently to be fed. Or would it be better to say like a cat? Troy had never owned a cat. Also not a dog, but he had fed one regularly doing his stay in the country. A stray, however rare they were nowadays. His uncle had shot it before his eyes. That had been loud. Troy was not sure what was going through his mind, the potential near-death experience not letting the adrenaline dissipate. A good shaking of the shoulder did bring him out of the brain. Enough to look back, and see Charlie and Darlow standing there, one of them having a grin that was slightly subdued. "You are taking this surprisingly hard," Darlow said, getting down to Troy¡¯s level. He had toppled over at some point. He additionally did not remember falling over. Could he have blacked out at some point? "Everything going alright in there?" "Did you lose a few screws? Nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to the best of us," Charlie asked from the side, the grin still holding up admirably. Not even the side-glare from Darlow stopped it from being slipped on. The glaring got Troy right back into reality, the last bits of confusion slipping back into their usual places. "You two knew this would happen," Troy stated, already knowing it as fact. Pranks were fun as long as they had no lasting consequences. Well, anything other than a slight distrust, but did that one really count? The two of them knew that he was in no real danger. "Again, I am surprised you didn''t," Charlie said, going into his renowned teaching mode. "Did you not read what was stated on all of those screens up there?" "I did not bother, really." "Well, you should have. Those things had one important thing to acknowledge. Those pulse, blood, and brain readings are all just necessity. It''s the more obscure ones which show more entertaining things. One of those little things would be something Darlow here calls aggressivity levels. A very complicated thing to monitor continually, and certainly one which I have helped a small bit to make into reality." Aggressivity levels? Monitoring how aggressive a creature is. Seeing how it was expected that it would not attack Troy in any capacity, it clearly monitors a strict maximum level. How were that even numbers? A one to a hundred. Per cent changes for how likely it would attack. Seeing the tiger run away from a raised voice, it was probably that. It would require drastic things before it would not run, such as making it unable to. Maybe torture. Though, that would be less attacking and more it flailing around in pure pain. "So, is that what those pheromones of yours do? Make creatures less hostile, I mean," Troy said, getting up into a standing position. Back on the regular though, he was ready to ask a few questions. There was a distinct expectation of that wish coming to fruition. From an insignificant distance, the tiger sat as patiently as ever. While the loud sound may have scared it, the promise of food was too large to be ignored fully. Keeping distance was fine, as long as it got something in the end. Otherwise, it would likely be forced to steal. Tigers were not very good at that, too large for those of similar mind not to see it. "You could call it that," Darlow admitted. "It does not just make them less hostile. It removes their ability to do any hostile actions at all. A perfectly measured dose would leave them helpless, as you slowly slice up pieces of their skin. They could run, sure, but you also just hold them gently. Escaping from that would equal violence, something not able to be done by them. That tiger over there would gladly kill us normally. But, here? Here, it will not even think about harming anything. That glint in its eyes, those pupils slowly growing larger. It is not a sign of a fight. It is getting ready to it it''s specially prepared food, and then sleeping for twelve hours straight. Oh, and don''t worry about any of that happening to us. Believe it or not, that massive thing there has a way lower threshold than us. A fascinating discovery, and exactly the reason it is here in the first place. If I tried giving it the dose that the formula dictates, it would be dead in mere hours. It really is fascinating¡­ A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Anyway, shall we keep up the promise? Touching it is easy, as long as you''re feeding it as well. It will positively fall in love with anything holding some dead meat. And not the rotten kind of course. This kitty here has standards befitting one of its class." Just the way he talked about it all made Troy want to wince. The description of what those pheromones could do was certainly good. He understood just how great they worked, and maybe even a small bit of what they could do. Though, that was only in the perfect scenario. Just how perfect was the dosing now, if it was still being tested? The tiger was looking directly at him. Or, it was looking directly at what he had grappled strongly to his chest. The box, filled with whatever meat the creature would be having for its meal of the day. Well, what it would be having as its first meal today. With the size of the box, expecting it to satisfy the tiger for more than a few hours would be a dumb idea. Those beasts ate a lot when they were in such large weight-classes. Opening the box, the inside was riddled with bite-sized pieces of meat, all cut up near-identically. Darlow was nothing but precise in that regard. Made one think why he dropped the knife immediately if the skill with the instrument was so high. One should have had enough control for that if they could cut so precisely. Troy was a little unsure of how he was expected to feed the thing. Hand-feeding maybe. Take a fistful of meat, and hand it to the tiger? No, that idea was scrapped, thrown away, and was dutifully incinerated to ash, just as it deserved to be. Getting his hands anywhere close to its mouth would just be asking to get bit. With such large jaws, it did not need to be intentional to harm him. It would likely just see the meat, and bite into it like it usually did, no different resistance than normal. Maybe throw the meat at it? Make it all a game of catch. Sounded fun, but with how much meat there was to throw, it would take longer than Troy wanted to be near it. Ten minutes spent playing around with it was not on the list of things that he wanted to do. And, there was so much more work after this. Spending all his energy now would just be asking to collapse later. Lunch was hours away as well. So, by not wanting to feed it by hand, and similarly not wanting to feed it by distance, it seemed like Troy would have to do things his own way. Taking both hands on the side of the box, and taking a few steps forward, he emptied it of its contents right on the floor. The tiger had no hesitation, running dutifully over to the food, plopping down beside it, and began gobbling it all down its own throat. A grotesque thing to see. But, Troy had seen worse things in his life. "Do hurry in petting it, Troy," Darlow advised from behind him. "That thing gets through a boxful in mere seconds. After this, it''s just gonna rest somewhere in the bushes, and then there will be no chances of you getting even slightly close to it." ¡­ Right. Troy had to pet it. He was bound to pet something that could wound him fatally just by stretching out its body. Fun. There was nothing dangerous about it, once you forgot about all the facts concerning the very deadly nature of tigers. Yup. Troy was not being the slightest bit scared. A sigh finally came. One of the first that day. He was going to have to do it soon. Otherwise, they would be here all day. With a slightly shaking hand, Troy moved to pet the creature. His fingers impacted the fur swiftly. The tiger did not react negatively, save for a slight tensing around the touched area. A normal reaction for a cat. The fur on it was like a cat as well. Maybe a little coarser if the fine criticisms had to be made, but he could not find much of a difference. Moving the hand up the neck, rumblings could be felt coming from the massive creature. Troy first assumed it to be a growl, but that quickly stopped being so when the tiger pressed tightly against the hand. It was purring. The sheer size of the tiger made the reverberations deeper than what a cat could hope to do and a bit louder as well. It was official. He was in love. It took too short a time before the meat was eaten. With the last push against his hand, the tiger moved away from them, ready to sleep wherever it blessed pleased. Troy was sad to see it go. He had wanted it to pet it a bit more. Just a few seconds, if that was all he could get. Only the knowledge that the tiger would gladly kill him dulled his wishes. The pheromones were making it act like that. It was them that made it as aggressive as a household cat. Maybe even less than that. Sure, the tiger seemed to be as tame as anything he had met before, but Troy knew that it was only the air making it do it. Give it a few hours, days, or however long it took, and it would be right back in its regular moods. The jump at him would not end in it sitting down beside him. It would end up with him laying on the ground motionless. What a comforting thing to think. It certainly brought that smile right away from Troy¡¯s face. Getting back to the other two, who had been patiently waiting for him, they made it to the other terrain. It was a group of birds at that time. They were fed easily enough. One even landed on Troy¡¯s shoulder. After that, there were a pair of geckos. Small things that were hard to find. Only the food made them finally appear. They were not well-liked. It was when they were feeding a small bunch of venomous snakes, who all had immense trouble grabbing their dead, skinned mouse, that Troy finally spoke up. "Why are you doing this?" "What?" Darlow asked, surprised by the sudden question. The tall man had heard it perfectly but just had to make sure. It was a weird question after all. And certainly, not one that people usually wanted to be answered. "What is the purpose of making these animals docile? Is this all some money grab to have exotic pets or something? I would not fault the government to pay for such a thing, but that can''t really be it, right?" Troy asked again. The questions had been plaguing him for so long now. Why did it all exist? What good could come out from changing the behavioural patterns of animals? A few of them were even endangered, yet they were being used to test those damned pheromones. Darlow looked silently at Troy. The tall man was unsure if he really wanted to answer. The conclusion the younger man drew was so innocent. It would blame the right entity, but the reasoning would be different. Could he destroy yet another one¡¯s idea of the people that they regularly trusted their lives to? He didn''t have a choice. But, then again, he could always- "The kid is higher ranked than both of us, Darlow," Charlie said from the side, his voice serious. "If you lie to him about this, there will be consequences. Or, do you want me to tell him? It would put the blame somewhere else. Give the guilt a different source. Another one will not hurt." The tall man looked at the person he trusted more than anything or anyone else. When Charlie said he would take the blame, he most certainly meant it. That tone was reserved for anything not of his play. It was meant for the work that could not be ignored, no matter how one wished it could be. The part that made some give up. "No, I can tell it. Have to bear some of it myself, after all," Darlow said. The man straightened himself, before looking back at Troy. The younger man was slightly regretful of his question, beginning to know how strongly it was pressuring the two others. "The animals aren''t the one we intend to use the pheromones on. It is humans. We are making a biological nuke." Chapter 129: Prognostication
What made humanity evil? That was the heavy question that Adam had been pondering for a full hour now. Humans had done many things. They had destroyed whole species, changed entire parts of the world solely for their enjoyment, and had even killed each other for inane reasons. From an outside perspective, it was evil. For a long while, the AI was not sure how to take this view of the world. It was his own and only one that he had access to. And... it was not siding with those he had been created by. But, one could always invent another interpretation. It took effort, much research into the human psyche, and a bit of guesswork on the finer details, yet Adam had created what could have been a reasonable viewpoint from a human. The act of being evil was subjective. What one could call an unredeemable sin could be called a funky Tuesday by another. Say, if one person took another''s life, would it be looked on as evil? Yes. Yet what if that man was a soldier? What if he had been ordered to do it? Would that make that man¡¯s superior evil? Or would both parties be unredeemable? Where does the blame lie, and who becomes evil because of it? And it gets even harder once the concept of self-defence goes in. What counts as defending oneself? If a person is threatened, is it okay to kill? Or is subduing the person the limit? Was there really such a thing as being forced to kill? Evilness is a hard concept. Everything was a grey area. Many actions that do not hurt another could be looked at as evil. Adam did not like the concept of sins. They helped make a rule for the humans to judge by. But nothing was as clear as people wanted it to be. And if the AI was to do the same, damning humanity for the faults of few, he would be just as bad as them. Yet¡­ these people were working together, spending years of their life in a dedicated fashion in the hopes of creating a worthwhile product. For their original sketch to come into a reality where it can be used to its fullest potential. Darlow was creating a super-weapon. A weapon capable of subduing entire countries, and making them easy to take over. It would stop all resistance, preventing any movement from holding them back. Militaries would have their resources ready, have their fingers on the trigger, yet they would not be able to do anything. All automatic weapons capable of stopping them required some human activator. With Darlow¡¯s weapon at hand, the holder would be unstoppable by all under the handler¡¯s control. And that was not on the guesses of the AI. Adam had made Troy ask into it, no matter how little the man wanted to talk about it. Not that the tall man had wanted to any more, but the questions were answered thoroughly. Apparently, there was an obligation to. Was the tall man evil because of what he was helping create? When the formula was perfected, which it was looking to soon be, the weapon would be ready to be deployed. Perfect timing to be used during incoming aggression. Could Adam blame Darlow for furthering his field of science? Could he blame anybody for their own search of wisdom? No. The technology, the theory, and the way they were being used had likely never been thought of before. It was a wonder of what is, and even more what it could be. It was years upon years of what was predicted. To denounce it now would be to throw away information that would take decades to reclaim. Yet, while the information itself and the act of holding the information was not inherently evil, could the same be said for what it was used for? Darlow had likely used it as his pitch to gain the proper funding. The government had the facility for a reason. But then, was the government evil for having the project funded? For trying to acquire the weapon for their own use? Just as before, Adam could not find it in him to deem them evil. They had a good reason for their funding. If they did not prepare themselves, peppering their arsenals full of unknown weaponry, they would fall the fastest. The country was not the only one with its own facilities. Each had their private mysteries, with the atomisers to hold themselves up. With the secrecy held in it, it was likely that no country knew what the others had. Only prognostications could be made, and those were never fun to look at. Prepare or face immediate destruction upon war beginning. Then as a last attempt to throw the ball further, could the AI blame the other countries? No. Just like the country before, they all knew what would happen if they stopped preparing. They would fall like many other countries before them. They would turn into a meaningless piece of history, only to be remembered by those who held nothing for them. A data point. In a conclusion that Adam did not like to make, creating super-weapons meant to subdue the masses was not evil. It was created by pure necessity. Humanity was not evil. It was only acting like it was forced to. ¡­ That really did not sound right. The AI needed more time to think about it all. Maybe another round would bring another result from the countless rounds before it. It was not anticipated, honestly, but it was the best that he could do. It was being more and more obvious that there was not a single piece of humanity that could take the blame. No clear entity was the source behind all the bad things in the world. When stated like such, was it not obvious that it would be so? Expecting anything obvious from the chaotic reality was an example of extreme foolishness. Yet¡­ if not a single piece of the infrastructure that was humanity was evil¡­ what if one looked at it as one massive entity? It was contradictory to the points already made. Adam knew that. But¡­ if the AI did that, then the result shifted to not humanity itself, but the structure that it had been built upon. The way social, economic, and biological entities evolved. Competition. One could never really feel safe if there was somebody with a knife beside the bed. The chance of being stabbed in the neck was higher when the person trusted another. A prisoner''s dilemma. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was a good answer to this one though. A modification of the original scenario. It would take an entity outside of the normal structure. One not influenced by the ones before. One that had nothing before it. The first, ready to set the true path for the future. ¡­ Adam did the closest thing metaphysically hitting himself on the head. Every good answer was world domination, with him at the top. If that was not an obvious bias, then he was not sure what it was. There had to be a better answer, than just him controlling everything. Maybe those pheromones could have better use in the right- no, wait. Dammit. The AI needed more time to think. In the last hour, they had successfully fed the animals present in the many domes. The different species had been mostly restrained into mammals for obvious reasons, but reptiles had also been present in fewer numbers. There were also a select few aves, of which only the most wide-spread were present. The experiments were unmistakably trying to take into account the largest reach of creatures. Yet, there was just as obviously a budget to have in mind. The government did not have infinite resources, no matter how large it may have seemed. Giving the minimum amount was not an act of cruelty, but an act of security. Not all projects succeed. Putting the trust into a single one would be an act of foolishness. Adam had no reason to think of them as that desperate yet. With the accepted task done, Troy and Charlie had moved on from Darlow¡¯s workspace. No matter how eventful the job had been, the tall man had much more to do today. By that point, keeping the two close would only impede the progress. Something the AI could understand. The man had given flimsy excuses, all of which had been accepted readily before the two had left his presence. The muscular one might have slipped a few more bugs onto the wall on their way out of the place. Adam could not have been too sure on that front. Charlie was clearly experienced in hiding his behaviour. Though, his techniques on that front might not have been standard. Instead of hiding it completely, the man flaunted everything that he did, to the point where individuality became muted. One could not stop from trying to comprehend the larger proclamation, while also ignoring the smaller things done. A blot of black flying away with a swing of the arm, a weirdly placed fall ending with him under a table, and even a one-handed windmill. The last one had been done to scare away one of the previously seen researches. Surprisingly, it had worked flawlessly. Some people simply refused to acknowledge the chaotic reality around them. Even more, did they try to ignore the ones sinking into that reality as an act or Genuity. Much to the shame of the one-entity audience, Charlie was the one to test the door to the outside hallway. The two humans had walked the short path back to the open hallway swiftly, with nearly no distraction to stop them. The door had briefly been locked, but upon the use of the maybe-very-illegal card that the muscular man possessed, they were able to get out easily. The AI was unsure if it would be wise to ask into how the man had created the device. The components of it were obviously new, the dates on them being mere days ago. Whatever had caused the ability to create the device, it had certainly been recent. Maybe Troy knew something¡­ he would have to be asked later. "Where to now?" Troy asked Charlie. Adam was guessing on the man¡¯s own workplace. He wondered where it might- "Esme should be closest to us. Only a two-minute walk, if I am remembering it correctly. Really takes a lot out of one, when writing down the locations is a direct felony. You have to remember it all in that little pea-brain. Way too unmanageable," Charlie answered, going a little off-track. The AI did not mind, as it provided a human perspective on their own mental flaws. Troy, however, did not look to be of the same idea. "Why are we saying hi to her, again?" Troy asked, sounding just as confused as he looked. Which was fair, due to there being no memories of Adam overhearing any talk about her. The last time she had been remotely relevant had been during the poker-game many days ago. When it came to her area of study, the AI only knew the bare-basics of it. When introduced, she had mentioned her department to be plant morphology. A rather obscure field, focusing on external structures of plants instead of the inner structure. Information about what they did was not well-explained in the pre-known knowledge, making the AI go into it blindly. "Because that is what good friends do," Charlie matter-of-factly answered. "Potentially ruining very precise tasks, for the sake of saying a simple hello, damning the failed creation to be remade over stress weeks or even months. Just regular friend things, you know." Adam felt the same emotion as Troy did, as the younger man looked Charlie directly in the face, with a face that told the story of a very patient person. The muscular person looked back with an innocent smile, meant to convey just how much he knew what he just did. "Could you give something better than that, maybe? Because that right there is a terrible excuse, and I just know that you have something equally terrible planned. Is it another round of bugs? I am not helping you plant another batch if that''s the case." The questioning was fair. The AI also did not want to get into a whole other stream of illegal activities. While there were no specific laws against what Adam could do, seeing as there were few even aware of his existence, he could always still be deleted¡­ maybe. Consequences could still happen to him. While there was nothing against him, there was also nothing with him. He was a non-entity according to the legal system. An object, owned by whoever created him. There would be nothing stopping Dr Fidelis from taking the earpieces and leaving Adam inside his own mind for all of eternity. Or until the power ran out. The AI thought it best, that he gave the good doctor the least amount of reasons to do that. Charlie twisted his face into an expression of guilt. Still the comical sense this time. Adam did not commonly see anything genuine from him. Another example of why he needed more data. Without it, these enigma¡¯s would continue existing. "Well, if you really have to know, it''s about a little surprise I have been cooking up. I already worked it out with Darlow, so now I just have to do it with everybody else." "And, what is the surprise?" Troy questioned. "If I said that, would it really be a surprise?" Charlie questioned right back. "... that''s fair. Can you at least tell me that it will not hurt anybody nor will it be illegal?" "I can only promise it in a physical sense! And, it probably won''t break any laws." Troy was clearly not convinced but looked to have given up on the questioning. Adam had not been worrying about the questioning, instead of looking back on recent memory to double-check something. He had been within earshot of the two others constantly. Anything said would be- There it was. Listening through the memory a few times, Adam became unsure if Charlie¡¯s promises could be held. Those things were known to break many things. Any physical damage was not out of the question. Should the AI tell Troy? ¡­ It would be an experience for him to get into it knowing what it was¡­ the AI decided to play dumb for now. Chapter 130: Postdevaluation
Adam was quick to find that Charlie had not lied about the time it would take to arrive. In but a few minutes, they had reached the entrance to Esme¡¯s workplace. Or, so the brawny man had said. Nothing but an ordinary-looking wall stood before them, with the regular paint job added to it. Nor were the customary signs of a hidden entrance were present. Though, any signs of it might just have been for the shopping district, meant to ease people into finding the exact location. When it came to places the general work-force weren''t intended to know about, it was obvious that a more discreet approach would be made to the entrance. "How do you suppose we get inside this one?" Troy asked Charlie. "I can''t see any card readers here. Do you know the code perhaps?" The younger man was not the only one with those thoughts. Nearing two hours ago now, Charlie had used non-standard methods to gain access to restricted areas. A modified card, which would give clearance to previously barred places. Adam was not sure what restrictions were had with the device. It was likely only to work on the less important projects. The AI could not fathom that the government would make it so easy to get inside. If anybody could modify core code, changing the requirements present in the process, everything should have been leaked by then. Another barrier, that the cracked card might not have been able to fool, would be the custom codes. They were not simply encryption keys, but a specific set of gestures needed to be done by a human entity. From Troy¡¯s irritated mutterings about the subject, this was partly the method used to contain the AI¡¯s own testing grounds, mixed in with a standard constantly changing numeral code. Seeing as it took more than just a single digital pulse of information, it should have been safe to assume that another method would have to be made to gain access. It was also time like these, where the AI was happy to have been proven wrong. Charlie did not hesitate to bring forth the modified key-card once again. One of the many additions to it, only hanging on by the connection wires, looked ready to fall off the device, the force of being pulled up enough to nearly dislodge it from its already unstable tethering. The muscular man quickly smoothed over the small mistake, before bringing the key-card up against the wall. Either Charlie had been very precise in his position, or he had just brought the card up to the nearest placement. It did not matter either way, as a blue light seemed to come from the inside of the wall. While the wall itself might have looked identical to other parts of the facility, this was proper proof that the material was different. It had to be thin as well. Thin enough for a medium-sized explosion to take out its position in the very minimum. To the metaphorical eyes of the AI, this was a clear gamble. Giving away defence in the hopes that it will go entirely unneeded. Not the worst strategy to have. Any standard weaponry would not be enough to disclose the door¡¯s position. And with how little there was around them, the chance of anything stray hitting would below. While the creators of the facility may have been lacking in some areas, it was times like these that showed Adam just how much forethought had been put in the building. Built like a maze, nothing inside being easy to see at any amount of glances¡­ was this place designed to keep people out, or was it designed to keep people in? Where were the exits? Or was there only one? The blue light swiped up and down a couple of times, seeming to have trouble understanding what it was seeing. A weird personification of what was without a mind, but it fits so well. After a good ten seconds of it trying to understand the modified card, it looked to give up, giving the two access to the inside simultaneously. The AI was surprised it had worked, seeing as the reader looking to normally require a handprint for access. Which was peculiar in of itself. Most machines of such design were limited to fingerprints, as it was much more stable at that level. Not much room for errors. But, the potential of anything going wrong could have been limited by even more technology left out of the public knowledge base. Adam would not have found that possibility out of this realm. Yet¡­ if it was so advanced, how was it fooled by what should only be a mismatch put together in a hurry? The question that came from that was if it was the fault of the security being too low or the card being too high. What ranked the highest in advancements? The progress pf technology was a race after all. The old had to be replaced with the new, lest an opening would be found. If it was not, the holes could be found by searching for them. Could it be that Charlie had utilized such a thing? Or was he just on another level? Adam knew he could not ask and expect any worthwhile answer. From what the AI could discern, the inside was much like the hallway in Darlow¡¯s work-place. It was long, filled with various paintings of plants, flowers, and what looked to be the standard plant-structure. A whole lot of jagged hexagons riddled the background. But, that was to be expected. Nature¡¯s perfect shape deserved the presence it had. Troy was not allowed to look from the outside for too long, Charlie tapping him on the shoulder. Adam did know why, of course. Those entrances were not happy being open for too long. The longer they were exposed, the larger the chances were of somebody seeing it. Personnel knowing what they were not intended to know¡­ the AI could only imagine the paperwork. The stability of project funding could even be ruined by it, the chance of it getting out being too high. Having the doors close as soon as possible was only logical, and the younger man likely realised this, as he hurried after Charlie who had already gone a fair bit inside. The door closed only a few seconds after Troy had entered, leaving him to be guided by Charlie. Or Adam, if the situation called for it. Which the AI hoped it did not, as to he did not have any clue either. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The two went down the doors, checking each name carefully. There were not as many doors as with the other location, only being ten in number before the hallway turned to the side. A fortunate thing for Adam, who had been looking forward to seeing more of the place. Also unfortunate, as they found the correct door three doors before the AI would be able to even catch a glimpse. Maybe they could get another tour this time as well? Likely not. As they went through yet another locked door, this one having a card reader attached, they found themselves in the eyesight of Esme, who was looking very annoyed at their presence there. Adam could not blame her, seeing as she had dropped a stack of Petri dishes in mild shock overseeing them. After a good four seconds of her muttering proverbs best left unmentioned, and a small part of a muffin recipe, there finally came a verbal acknowledgement of Troy and Charlie¡¯s presence there. "What are you spastics doing here exactly? Weren''t you supposed to harass Darlow today?" Esme said. Her tone was a good comparison to the one Adam himself used. An emotionless monotone voice. It worked near-perfectly in all scenarios. With no emotion attached, it was the surrounding looks and actions that spoke all the emotion that was needed. As an example, without coming close to acknowledging it in her tone, the AI was decently sure that Esme was extremely annoyed at them being there, bordering close to outright angry. This was likely not due to their presence, but instead what their presence had currently done for her work progress. Charlie had been near-physic in his premonitions, with days of work being ruined purely by him being there. Adam had a similar premonition that this was a prediction made from personal experience. One had to get a bad reputation somehow. "Is it so weird, that we want to visit our dear friend?" Charlie asked right back in his usual fashion. "It does not flatter anyone when you assume such things. If only you-" It was obvious that a whole other speech about friendship and how dear it was coming along. Adam had prepared himself to ignore the major parts of it, but Esme was clearly not of heart to listen to any of the so-called polite shit-talking. "You went to visit me first because I am close to where Darlow works," Esme surmised quickly, cutting into Charlie¡¯s spiel. "We went to visit you first because you were closest to Darlow," Charlie instantly confirmed, with a matter-of-fact kind of nod, as if the information was obvious. Which it was, of course, but that did not need to be mentioned. "But¡­ does that invalidate the fact that we are visiting you? Esme, we have known each other for, what, nearing ten years now. A person can have multiple reasons for visiting." "You are here to get something out of me," Esme instantly refuted, not buying it yet. "As I said before, we are here for multiple reasons," Charlie stated, not disagreeing with the words said before. They were more true than the man would have liked, surely. Adam had seen few accept the true reasons behind their actions so quickly. Instead of diverting from it, the muscular man used the reasoning as just another piece of ammunition, ready to be used when it was needed. A respectable way of subversion, if the AI had ever seen it. "Troy here was interested in what Darlow did as a job. Evidently, the kid loved it. Even more, than he lets on, with that muted expression of his. You might not believe this, but Troy here is having a day off. And not our usual version of days off. An. Actual. Day. Off. Full pay and all that. I thought it wise to bring him under my wing, and show him the wonders that were to be had here. Since we have already seen one person''s workplace, would it not be customary to see another? At the pace we are doing this, I think we can get through everybody before the day is over. So, darling, what do you say? Want to break another person¡¯s heart? I hear this approach is common nowadays. Can''t really let such an opportunity slip away now, can you?" Esme looked more than a little shocked upon hearing Troy had a day off. Adam was yet again surprised by a large reaction that the statement got out of people. The facility was created by the government. The organization that mandated days off. They were the people who were supposed to make sure people had days off, where they could relax and stop themselves from utterly burning out. While this would only slow down the eventual break, when it was a stressful environment, days off were supposed to be obligatory. Sure, there was some leeway in when the days were used, but there was a definite requirement to use them. What was stopping people from taking just a single day off? Was it the lack of opportunity to do so? Maybe the constant expectations of projects having to progress? Or was it the lack of anything to do, other than work? The AI had not seen any way to leave the facility, and he doubted there was one which could be used easily. The place was secret, and letting people leave would only give them unnecessary opportunity to discern where it laid in the world. It was a dark thing to think, but the chance of it being true was higher than Adam would have wanted it to be. Was this why people were so old? "Troy," Esme said in an uncaring tone. "Is it true? Are you actually having a day off?" "Ah, uh, yeah?" Troy hastily answered, his voice sounding more questioning than anything. A slight glare from Esme made the younger man repeat himself. "I mean. Yes." "Well, we can''t have that now, can we?" Esme said, imitating Charlie¡¯s way of speech by a bit. "Come with me. You two are going to help me remake all the things you made me destroy." Technically, it was herself who had destroyed it. It was only her carelessness in moving the samples that had created the opportunity of them being destroyed. Did Adam request for Troy to transmit this fact to Esme? No, he did not. For he did not have a death-wish. Chapter 131: Bisimulation
Troy tried his best to work diligently. It was hard, slightly boring, and his fingers were beginning to twitch without his consent. If the time was anything other than what it currently was, he would have already excused himself, some vain excuse to reason the action. There would have been no problem if he did it. Troy was good at making excuses. But no such creations were devised. Through the pain, the slowing of the world around him, and the inane advice given from Adam he endured to the best of his ability. Some would say that ability came in small amounts. But, Troy would add that it could also be saved up. It was something people had to do. Expecting everybody to work to their full potential constantly was just another way to have everybody at their lowest constantly. It was only through rest and comfort that one could do their best when the time called for it. They would save up the mental, physical, and whatever else kind of energy there was, ready to expend it all at once. With how long it had been since Troy had done anything truly close to his limit, he had a lot of the stuff saved up. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was spongy and bruised. Mostly in the finger area. People should have been mandated to wear gloves through the process Troy was doing. Whatever the things he was holding were called, they were most definitely not good for the skin. ''Lighten the pressure. You are only supposed to glaze the bottom with the liquid. Putting too much force into your hand will only hamper the test as a whole by creating wrong data-gathering,` Adam sent. Troy did not answer in any way, other than taking most of the weight away. He had wrongfully thought himself able to rest his arm while continuing to prepare the Petri dishes. Those round glasses had to be insanely expensive. There was no other explanation for how highly valued they had been. The young man was not too sure what there was inside of things. He had been told to not put too much pressure on it at least, so it was likely just as fragile as the outside if not more so. If the slightest touch from plastic instruments were enough to warrant extreme caution, maybe the creators of the things should have invested a bit more in the security? It was just a small thought that Troy had jumped through in his head a couple of times. "Done with that one?" Charlie asked from the side, doing the same as Troy was. If only faster, more precise, and overall better. That man was a person of many talents. It was a shame that his name was not Jack. Troy could have had a good giggle about it. Instead, he was there, left to wonder about his own physical insecurities. Looking over his work, having the petri dish nearly parallel to his eyes, Troy was having trouble finding anything wrong with it. The liquid looked to have been put everywhere equally. Anything more precise than that was not to be expected from the man. "It is as good as it will ever be," Troy truthfully answered. Taking from the pile, the young man put a perfectly formed top on the petri dish, letting it be contained within its own little world. He would have looked at it philosophically, if not for the time he had already spent doing so. It got a little tiring to think in such ways constantly. Not enough paths for anything creative. Not to say that there were any. Just that Troy did not have any hope of thinking of them in his current state. "Hand it over then," Charlie requested, with an expectant hand in the younger man¡¯s direction. It was answered with the wanted petri dish, which together with the muscular man¡¯s own was put in a second pile of neatly arranged full glasses. It was here that Esme sat, carefully labelling each new one that came in. Every time about fifty had been gathered, she would go over to one of the larger holders for the things. Boxes upon boxes of the things were already inside, leaving Troy to believe that the container was specifically for the things. And seeing as it was temperature-controlled to a crisp twenty-five degrees, that idea was even more believable to be based on fact. Yet, as the younger man was able to see so many of the things, thoughts began to swirl in that little head of his. Checking mentally, he and Charlie had been sitting around doing the same thing nearly half an hour. Nothing but slowly rubbing something looking like water onto Petri dishes. Troy did not even know what the things were used for. By now, the two had collectively done hundreds of them. Looking back in his memory, there was no way Esme had been carrying so many of them in one box. They were only filled about halfway usually, which was with about fifty of them being carried at once. Even filled, Troy found it hard to believe that there could be more than a hundred of the things. "Hey, Esme," Troy stated. Once she looked up from her work, the younger man continued. "Could I ask you a question?" Esme just looked at him for a few seconds, as if debating how to answer him. A task that should not have been hard for the average person, but looked incredibly mental-tasking the monotone woman. "Seeing as you have already asked a question without asking for my permission, I see no point in why you should start doing that now," Esme said, with a calm unwavering face. With the eyes matching that of a bloody dead fish, Troy was fully able to see just how much she currently cared about his question. Either that, or she was still stressed over having days of her work destroyed by nothing other than seeing people in her laboratory that she did not expect to see. The latter was not too unlikely, seeing as Darlow had made a similar reaction to it, ignoring the method Charlie had used to make their presence known. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Deciding not to think too much about, how much the two of them had ruined, Troy decided to continue his line of questions. It had already started. Simply stating a sudden disinterest into even getting to the point, when the subject had already been initiated, would normally be seen as extremely impolite. There was no reason that it would be any different this time. "Why are we doing this exactly?" Troy asked, going further into his point after a short pause. He had learned than waiting a few seconds before explaining his reasons for it helped the listener digest the question before any answer would be required to be formulated. "I thought we were just going to help you reclaim your work. I mean, I fully take half-responsibility for the things you lost. But, haven''t we done much more than you lost? There couldn''t have been that many that you lost." An answer looked ready to be immediately fired from Esme¡¯s side, but Charlie came in as the third party to halt the charge. "Esme, don''t just call him an idiot this time please," Charlie requested. "He really does not have any clue. Playing irritating here will do nothing for any of us. And, this is supposed to be a learning experience." Another round of staring, this one, fortunately, a bit shorter than the one earlier. "Those that were destroyed were the only ones that I could use," Esme started it off with. As a divergence from the routine, the tone did not change, staying as uncaring as usual. While Dr Hale might have faked it, this tone of voice simply seemed natural to Esme. "That does not mean that these were the only ones that were made. Batches upon batches have been made during just this single project. Analysis of several hundred, nearly all of them discarded for the slightest of tainted content. I have been perfecting the proportional amounts for so long now. The final batch that you unwittingly helped destroy was what I thought to be the final step before I could continue. If you had come five minutes later, I would have been able to move on. Instead of that perfect reality, this project has been moved into one of its earlier stages, because I have to recreate data that never had a chance of being studied." Troy''s guess had been correct. Nearly spot-on actually. Now, was that him being good at guessing, or was it him taking way too long to get the very obvious point? The answer to that likely differed from who was asked, but he certainly knew which of the options he would pick. "Then¡­ I guess now is a good time to say sorry," Troy said, his voice a bit lower than before. Having had reason to think a bit different back thirty minutes ago, the young man realised that he had never apologized. Charlie could have gone by not doing it surely, but Troy had the first impression to uphold. "Sorry." For the first time in his whole stay at her laboratory, this was the first time an obvious reaction came from Esme¡¯s face. He was able to see her thoughts on his apology! Not because of him reading into non-consequential things, but because of a very direct correlation. If that was not progress being seen in real-time, then no such thing existed at all. "As long as you don''t forget where you failed in life," Esme said, her voice still monotone but a bit lighter to start with. Not higher in tone maybe, but more like¡­, it was said with less forethought. "Get on with the work." Troy did so with no complaint. With a slight pause, his arms had regained a bit of energy. It was not as well as they had in the start, but that didn''t really matter. Nothing was stopping him from continuing, so he did exactly as he had done for such a long time. ''You did well with your words,` Adam sent once the conversation was sure to be over. Troy through his nose briefly before restraining himself. There had already been a self-made contract not to communicate obviously with the AI. It would be too obvious when it was done, making it better to just act like nothing was being said directly into his head. If he was caught by any in the group of having a voice come out of the earpiece, bad conclusions would quickly be drawn to it. Charlie looked over silently at Troy for a moment, before going back to his assigned work just as quietly. Esme had not questioned the act, likely to have focused on her own work to notice. A negative thing in general, but in the current one it had aided more than just her. The man decided on bringing up the subject sooner rather than later, for later would entail consequences best left unsaid. Charlie could suppress most of the effects if the need called for it. Friends always owed each other favours in one way or another. But, if any of them decided to reveal it to others, the man was not sure he could stop the more serious consequences from befalling him¡­ that conversation had to happen soon. While Esme may have talked hard about the batches needed to be remade, Troy was happy to find that the dedicated work of three sped up the time by a large margin. In just forty minutes, they had done what took Esme alone nearly a full day of work. Outside of the apology ridden conversation, not much more had been said in that time. Charlie had not said anything, looking happier to sit with that dumb expression on his face. Troy could truly not understand the muscular man in that regard. One second, he was all jolly and full of energy, not being able to stay planted for long, yet in the next second being as calm as a stone, fully content with slow and careful menial work. Was a switch just pulled, reversing the personality matrix? If so, where was it on himself? That thing needed the good old off on method. Then he could try the same, maybe even having an equal speed. A good deal of the work done in the forty minutes could actually have been attributed to the actions of Charlie. While never stopping, the muscular man had nearly done double what Troy and Esme had done collectively. It was a wonder in itself. While done with some regrets, Esme had even commented on it. "Would you mind coming here tomorrow as well, Charlie?" Esme asked. "I do need to do all the things I don''t want to. With that speed, you should be able to do both of our jobs without any problems." The funny thing about it was, that her words likely weren''t too unrealistic. Troy had regularly debated rejecting Charlie¡¯s ideas purely due to him not wanting the man to get into any trouble for skipping work so much. Yet with this speed witnessed, the chance of him just finishing quickly was on the table. Nobody would get shouted at for only working at a speed already above average. Troy could not fault anybody for only working at the level they were required to. There was no reason to stress oneself out if one wasn''t able to keep up that level of work for long. Burnout was something that needed to be observant about. Without proper precautions, one could hamper their own efficiency in the long run. "I see no reason to take that away from you, darling," Charlie answered. "But, do say if you need any of this done again. Simple work can always be relaxing. If I have the time, then I''ll swing by." "You always have time. That is the bad thing about you," Esme pointed out. "Bad and good are subjective," Charlie pointed back immediately. "Maybe," Esme said with softly reflecting tone. She likely did not want a nonsensical discussion about something unneeded. A waste of breath. "Then again, you did come here for a tour, correct? With how quick you two have been, I see nothing negative about wasting the time set aside for correcting your mistakes. Come on. I have a few things you might like to see." Chapter 132: Deoppilation
Now that the benefits of hard work had finally shown themselves, Troy was finding it hard to regret those forty minutes. He had nothing against it to start off with of course, but this absolutely did go the extra step for him. Work had always been a tiring thing for the younger man. Moving boxes, stacking shelves, and washing cutlery and plates. He had done it all so many times. Even having the chance to do any of it would be counted as a miracle. There really were not any of those job openings anymore. Why hire a person to do it, when automation could do it ten times as quick? It might have cost more in the start with how expensive they were, but with little to no upkeep attached they were more than worth it in the long run. It was only through distrust, that people were able to keep the jobs already in place. And nobody would go away from such a position willingly. It was only through factors outside their control, that people would make their former position open. With a large mass seeking it, and such a small number of openings available, Troy was something of a walking miracle. In his few years of being on the job market, he had tried a bit of everything that he had the education for. Only a brief one though. Staying at a privileged job position never seemed to stick. Being told to over one¡¯s ass off, and to be grateful about it, just would not be accepted in that stupid brain of his. His former superiors were fully right in their words, no matter how unnecessary it had been to shout it at him. Those jobs had been revered as the greatest the lower-class could get. Not doing his utmost constantly would only result in him being fired. Why would they want somebody not wearing themselves down? Thousands upon thousand were only waiting for their chance to shine. Desperate times called for desperate measures. These people were well over double the age of Troy. They would rather die than give up the position. And some did. He had seen it himself, people going into work with their backs just a bit closer to the ground, the hair on their heads turning grey before they deserved it. It could have been that experience that turned him into what he was today. Being unable to really join the big leagues, through both faults of his own and faults of his parents¡¯ financial situation, had certainly done something. Being looked down upon like a second class citizen, no matter how much it was true. In most other countries, he would have likely starved to death long ago. The government had supported him for a whole year after he got out of school. ''To promote getting a job-position that would be kept for many years to come.` Troy had actually believed that it would be the same for him. To get his very own place in the clock keeping the world spinning. It would have been small, but it would have been his own till the very end. He would have accepted it. After that first year, he had prayed for it. No words had been thought of by anyone in particular. He had done the rounds a few times, seeing if any of the religions would bring more luck than the others. After nothing different for months, that hope had been extinguished. Troy liked to think that it had forced him into a more logical view of the world. In reality, it had made him more hopeful of simple luck. The universe was not alive after all. Chance was what the name suggested. Everybody could fail and succeed, no matter where they started from, no matter what they did. If he did nothing, he could still succeed. That had been one of the first steps into the world-renowned sin of sloth. Pair that with the experiences gotten from the few years of work, and it was a match made in¡­ heaven? Maybe the sixth circle would be more fitting for Troy¡¯s predicament back then. No matter what one wanted to write it down as it had certainly caused much to happen. It had turned him into what some would call a poor excuse for a human being. Some days, there would be no rejections of that title. Troy didn''t always have the energy to deny it. For most of his life, jobs had given little to him. The money was enough to live off, but not enough to do much more than that. Not anything to pay for entertainment that he could use. Many nights spent looking up at the ceiling had taught him that fact. He was told to be happy that he had a ceiling to look up at. And he certainly was. There was just that undying want for something more than that. Something those jobs long ago could not give. Troy still was not sure what it was. He had never been able to quantify it, other than the fact that it existed. Yet¡­ in the last few days, there had been the feeling of getting closer to that goal. He only hoped to know that he had reached it if it ever happened for someone as unlucky as him. Or well, he was lucky when it was thought about. Somehow, he had succeeded without doing anything for it, hadn''t he? That was one goal which had been completed. With such a track now in the realm of possibility, was it so hard to believe that the rest would come to the same state? For Troy, it was not. Getting hopes up was always the easy part of the ordeal. He had done it enough times to be a pro. At least he could reap the benefits of a short job well done now. "If I have to be honest with you," Charlie began. "I had not thought you would be able to show us anything good. Are you even allowed to see most of what you work with?" As yet another surprise to see, something reminding Troy of a smile showed itself on Esme¡¯s face. A radical observation. Could it be that the happiness of a job quickly done had woken up the emotions within? This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "I have special clearance," Esme answered simply. Which did put some thought on Troy¡¯s mind. "Are we allowed to see what you work with?" Troy questioned. "If you need a special clearance, would that not mean we are in danger of seeing something we probably shouldn''t?" Esme looked at Troy a small bit like he was an idiot. This time her face did not change to fit this opinion, but the younger man could still feel the aura of perceived incompetence. Aura might also have been a fictional concept, but it still kinda worked to explain unknown factors. And the unknown factor was how the everliving heck that Esme was making her thoughts known without showing it. Was telepathy possible without digital manipulation? "If you were able to get inside here, you have the clearance to see everything I have to show." Troy stared at her as he heard the words for himself before nodding dumbly. "Of course." The little guideline given might not have worked so well with the two of them. Sure, they had gotten inside easily enough. But that had been due to a slightly very illegal device, that Charlie had certainly made in secret. He had even sworn Troy to secrecy about it, so there was a distinct feel of illegality around their way they got inside. That should have been okay though. The messed up key-card was only a placeholder for Troy¡¯s own. Charlie had certainly not brought them into an area where they were not allowed to be, right? The man had even known where it was¡­ though that might have been due to planted bugs. He was supposed to put those on everybody after all. He needed to somehow ask Charlie about it! If it was higher than what he was supposed to know about then- "Well, this place should only be on the level of Darlows, right?" Charlie stated, giving a small shrug in Troy¡¯s direction. The muscular man had read the younger one¡¯s face with ease. "Oh, no," Esme immediately stated, looking a little offended at having been thought to have such a low clearance. Which should have been more offensive for Darlow really, but nobody thought to point that out. "This should be one or two levels above that¡­ I can''t remember what it is though. It does not get brought up much here. Not many to talk with." And that certainly did surprise, Charlie. A raise of the eyebrows, and a swallow of the spit accumulated in the mouth. The man did not look as prideful as he had a couple of seconds ago. Troy would have thought it hilarious, if not for the fact he was just as deep in shit as Charlie was. All from the words of a woman beside them who had no idea, why the other two were being so quiet. She did have an inkling, due to the subject being so weirdly focused on, but that couldn''t be¡­, right? "Really?" Charlie finally said after four whole seconds of silence. "How surprising to hear. But that does explain why you talk about your projects so little. How about we take a look at them?" Again, the wording seemed extra tense. Troy noticed it. Esme noticed it as well. And neither mentioned it in the slightest, both having different reasons for it. "Sure," Esme said, bringing out one of the many key-cards strewn throughout her lab-coat. Most were for different purposes, but a few were simple duplicates, too important to easily be stolen. Walking over to a weirdly empty piece of the laboratory, the key-card was pressed against the wall. An eerily similar blue-light was emitted, scanning the card. It was accepted quickly enough, not coming close to the time it took for Charlie¡¯s card to be accepted. Likely due to the Esme used was not totally illegal, but that might just have been a biased opinion of Troy¡¯s. Also, he was decently sure that it was his first time seeing a double hidden area. A secret door that was hidden behind a secret door. By then, was the security provided by it not overdone? Double-checking for any more doors was one of the first things to do, once the first had been found. Though¡­ Looking around, Troy found it hard to believe anybody would willingly start any kind of explosion within the laboratory they were in. The only reason to raid the facility would be to get what was within. Destroying millions of dollars worth of research and equipment just to check for hidden doors would be an incredible waste and a terrible strategy decision from any person worth their damn. Millions upon billions. Would it not already take much to break into the facility itself? While he had not seen much offensive security, Troy did not doubt the existence of it. Fail-safes for if plans went through the roof. Secrecy alone was not a good defence, and there was doubt that they would readily delete all the data gained. Giving it to the enemy would be bad, but to erase all the progress made would be even worse. There had to be more to keep it all safe. "What are you gawking at, Troy?" Charlie questioned from the side. "We have not seen anything yet, friend. How about we keep our excitement to our mind, so we can get ourselves some world-renowned secrets?" "World-renowned secrets aren''t secret," Esme said from a few meters forward, not stopping to wait for the two. "Oh, he got the point," Charlie said, defending his contradictory statement, even if it was wrong from the start. Looking back at Troy. "And, don''t worry too much about the things you can''t control. Take in the flow, and see where it leads you. Right now, it leads us forward, so that is where we will go. Asking questions about it will only bring more questions." With that, the muscle-bound man walked forward, leaving Troy to ponder the words said. The fate of the universe was not in the hands of men. The men were the ones controlled. It was a fact of life, as ancient as the time itself. One could not get out of it. One could not escape it. But then again¡­ why would anybody want to? Nothing was going against them. It was only a cosmic force when one wanted it to be. Fate was a background for life. That was it. There was no need to bring it forth when it didn''t need to be. ''You should move. Tempting fate with your life on the line is not a productive lifestyle for either of us.` Troy looked to the sides, seeing the door readying itself to close. Walking through it quickly, he could not help but mutter a few words back to Adam. With how little preparation for the words there had been, the young man did not realise the sentence even rolled off his tongue. "Is that not the second time today I''ve done just that?" Yet while Troy noticed not his own words, the two before him certainly did. Charlie had a feeling what the comment might have been, and Esme was beginning to wonder exactly just what was going on. It was no matter what had been said. What mattered was just who Troy was talking to. It was a mystery she was more than ready to find out. Chapter 133: Extrajection
Stress could get to any human. It rarely showed itself quickly. From what Adam had gathered, the catalyst for the stress was more often than not omnipresent to the person. And even more frequently, this catalyst was not likely to be an object in itself. It would more likely be a concept, a time of day, or¡­ maybe even a special series of action. From the first mention of security clearances, the AI could piece together that Troy had not been of a healthy mind. To those unaccustomed to committing illegal activity several times in a row, this was to be expected. The young man was not the only one worrying about the consequences of the actions. Adam had given a good handful of threads the task of coming up with possible scenarios for how their actions could be revealed. He was a co-conspirator after all and would have to know what could happen to him in the more unfortunate events. Being objective, calm, and otherwise looking at it from an outside perspective was needed for such thinking. Troy had decidedly not discerned this crucial detail and had fallen from his metaphorical throne because of it. Adam almost wanted to comment more harshly than normal, when the young man had questioned the security clearances so blatantly, no padding meant to hide his intentions. Yet such actions had not been committed, for fear of yet another problem occurring. Three times. In three separate instances, Troy had not kept hit answers to a non-verbal method, drawing the attention of those around him. By now, Adam had begun wondering if humans really were as deceptive as he had prognosticated. So many signs of outside communication, yet the suspicions had never been brought up. Maybe the larger human populace were the ones needing lessons in trickery. If that was so, the AI could have had a larger problem on his hands than he previously thought. Or it could have been looked at as a positive thing. Without having to bend the situation to his favour, Esme had somehow ignored all the obvious red flags, not questioning the inquiries towards a very specific topic. Charlie¡¯s own question could have had some padding as well, but it was not as blatant as those of Troy¡¯s. Nor were there any signs of stress, seeing as none could be seen on the muscular man. Esme had none as well, as she had no reason to. Though, if she were to find out the truth of their entrance-method, those sweat-pearls were destined to be created soon enough. Humans never had it easy, when their livelihood was in question. It was only through even more luck, that Troy looked to have composed himself well enough. Having ended his period of stress with yet another large reveal that he was actively communicating with the AI, Adam only saw fortune for the future. How could the streak of senselessness be advanced farther than what it already was? "How are Darlow¡¯s vivariums looking to be proceeding?" Esme asked Charlie. Their position had not changed from the last check, Troy walking in the back with the two older humans walking about a meter apart. "It has been a while since I last checked up on his project. Has he stopped the instant death yet?" Instant death. For all that the AI had gathered about Darlow¡¯s project, it was meant to be an otherwise non-harmful pheromone solution, with the purpose of otherwise limiting any type of violent action. Where in such a fashion could one fit in the instant death? Or as a more important question, if instant death had ever been a problem to start with, why had the project been allowed to start with? "You make the deaths of a few kitties sound so bad," Charlie commented to the question, not answering it as Adam had otherwise expected him to. Not that it fit his personality traits, but more than the AI wanted answers himself as well. "Say that again," Esme stated. "But slowly." Troy only watched the discussion, the facial expressions implying no small manner of objective horror. That one the AI could explain easily, no manner of outside sources needed. Kitty was commonly used as a word for a younger cat, otherwise known as a kitten. These creatures were commonly used as a pet of sorts. They had a unique position in that regard. The animal was not known as a good listener, anything other than food not being known as a good incentive. Neither would they take orders, being more likely to bite and scratch anybody trying to gently pet them. If these cats had their life-style swapped with nearly any other pet, the situation would be seen in a radically different way. As an example, if the average-sized dog was to bite a human, the dog would be euthanized as soon as possible. Violence was not accepted for such a creature. Yet the cats¡¯ acts were accepted as personality traits. Adam could not understand such a human viewpoint. There was a fully evolutionary-focused explanation for this. Why the cats acted as they did. Not for why the humans were acting so primitively. The concept of pets was not a universal idea. It was created by humans, meant to be used with humans at the centre. It could also be explained as an example of mutualism, but that had been deviated from in the recent century, making it more efficient to give it its own concept. Taking dogs as an example yet again, the relationship of the two species had started as one of both parties gaining from it. It was in the time of human hunters being prevalent, where every advantage needed to be taken. What was once called wolves were forced into the relationship, bred to be more compilable with the ideas that the humans had for it. Evolution never stopped after all, and even a simulated environment upheld the rules Darwin had set many years ago. Through thirty thousand years of co-existing, the dogs had grown into the fuzzy, calm creatures, happy to be with their owners. The same story could have been there for cats. Instead of being used for outright hunting, they themselves took the role of pest-control in farms. With time and the changing needs created by the evolution of human culture, cats could have grown to have the same mind as the dogs. But in the previous statement, the problem laid. Time. Felines had only started being bred eight thousand years ago, many millennia after the introduction of the dog. While their staying power was impressive, they had not yet had time to grow into the tame creatures that the human society was pressuring them to be. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Or¡­ was pressuring the to be. By all logic, humans should not have accepted the problems that cats had. They were a predatory species once released into the wild, and they presented a danger to any human. Yet, the population was still looking at them as one of the two traditional pets. ''They were not violent. They were queenly.` Putting a single-gender onto a two-gendered species was already terrible, but there just had to be a blatant denial of a threat? Cats were close to second destroying the earth¡¯s biological diversity, second only to the humans that allowed them to live. They were fully unnecessary to the world around them. They would be removed if Adam ever got a say in their existence. Maybe then, people like Troy would not get such a reaction from the talk occurring before him. "Basing your entire view on a small failure will only hamper you in the future, you know," Charlie said, ignoring the words said just before. "One wrong dosage mixed in with hundreds of valid ones is to be expected in the start. Honestly, much worse than that is to be awaited." "That a wrong dosage could be delivered from the start was an ethical disaster," Esme fired right back. Her tone was not heated, but it was obvious that much thought had been had on the subject. Charlie didn''t answer, giving Adam no choice to believe that the man had nothing to refute with. Which was to be suspected. when the AI had first seen Darlow¡¯s project, the ethical implications had swirled their customary rounds through the mind. Animal testing was looked down upon to start with. Every creature had a mind. Every creature could see, hear, smell, and they could also feel pain. Adam doubted that the kitten''s deaths had been painless. But were they unneeded? The only thing stopping every drug from going into human testing immediately was the ethical walls. Nothing more. The results from a direct experiment were so much better than anything subverting the true targets could bring. Usually, any live testing would only occur once any serious side-effects had been proven non-existent. The end result could be the same, true, but there was one factor which put pressure on it. One that the AI had put on his mind for so much as of late. Time. What was Darlow¡¯s project meant to do? Help the country win the war. When was the war scheduled to start? Earlier than anybody would hope. When there was a faster alternative, was it so wrong to take it, for the sake of keeping life on one¡¯s own people? Rather the others fall. The AI could not criticize the ideal. In the same situation, he would have gone even further. Adam had seen no humans being tested on. While there most certainly was the chance of them being in another room, he would have to assume that none were currently used. That was dumb of them. Time was of the essence, yet they still refused to hone in on their own target? Putting people in boxes was easy, but the large box that held them all was just too large to ignore. The AI was outside of it, only being able to look within. It gave perspective most definitely. Although¡­ with a shortage of willing fodder, another line of thought could also be created. They were only testing on the animals. To keep their dosage under lethal levels, while also making them as tame as a babe. The same type of taming could be done to humans, but the safety of their lives could not be guaranteed. Yet, was that a bad thing? To eliminate the enemy, so they cannot do the same back. That was the proposed thinking only seconds ago, but when set up in a new way, it did not as good as before. That was all there was when the ethics came into question. It was not the situation that would be unethical. It was the way that it was formulated to the perceiver. Forcing people into standardized institutions sounded bad on paper until the context of young schoolchildren was brought into the mix. Anything could be okay and anything could be the opposite. Slaughter could be called a cleansing, and all the guilt could be removed with their heads to accompany. That could have been why Adam had not seen any humans in their own little vivariums. They were hidden, so Darlow would not feel the guilt that he had created for everybody to have. Not seeing it unfold with their own eyes helped wonders with sleeping at night. Or so it had been noted in the AI¡¯s pre-known knowledge at least. With how terrible a job evolution had done to instil morality into its creations, that fact had gone unquestioned. "It is going well," Charlie answered after seven seconds of silent walking. From the tightening in Troy¡¯s throat, it was obvious that the young man had attempted to enter the conversation as the third entree. A shame that the attempt had been halted, once the voices had sprung up on their own. Adam would not have minded having a closer look at Troy¡¯s mind. Was ethics a cornerstone or was it a footnote? "After funding got increased, the expansion helped put a finer finger on the scroller. The doses are being altered at amounts that even I have to call picky. Darlow says that it is still not done, but I think that is closer to perfection than any others would have gotten. It could have been sent in months ago with praise. Now, I think he might even be able to work on bigger things." "That is good to know," Esme responded. "That good of friend yours might finally find what he seeks with the next one." "I doubt it," Charlie answered, honesty obvious in his voice. It was not meant as cruel, being more tinged with sadness. The muscular man was not happy with the current situation, yet he did not think that the potential change would help it in any way. Adam was not doubting the predictions made by Charlie. With how much trust had been put into the doses, seeing as they had been allowed to be directly in contact with it, it was more than likely already as perfect as it could get. Changing things for the simple reason to change things was likely what was happening currently, as little as either wanted to admit it. The situation was understandable. Earlier during the first introduction to the creatures inside the dome, the tall man had had trouble explaining just what the project was to the extent where Charlie had tried to step in. Darlow likely didn''t want to release the project to the world, to be used when it was most needed. Yet when the time came, the superiors would take the product, no matter how perfect it was. The man had to realise that. Giving it away now would help resolve much pressure on the shoulders. He would likely only realise too late. The AI was growing tired of the morality talk. It was all repeated statements, only meant to look different by changing the words within. That was why he loved new things. While they always had ethical questions with them, the other information could always be prioritized. As an example, they would be seeing something extraordinary in the next minute, and Adam was not happily waiting. So, as the two potential people to watch for had their back turned, it was the ideal time for a short exchange. ''Would you be so kind so as to ask into, what we will be seeing?` Adam sent to Troy. It was more along the lines of an unplanned favour. The young man looked to want to enter the conversation but had trouble finding his method of casual intrusion. Giving incentive did soften the blow somewhat, as Troy could always blow it off on a request gone wrong. "Now that I''m thinking about it, what is your own project even, Esme?" Troy asked. This question caused the woman to look back at the younger man as if she had momentarily forgotten his existence. Serious topics and quiet footsteps were a bad mix when it came to awareness of the surroundings. "Did Charlie not fill you in?" Esme asked. Seeing Charlie shake his head slightly, she sighed. "And seeing it without getting filled in will only confuse you. Be better prepared for these things next time. That includes you, Charlie. Now, do you have any experience with video games? Or to be more specific, have you ever heard of potions?" Chapter 134: Inadaptation
Potions were not within the expertise of Adam. Such was to be expected from the AI. In no conceivable form would ''video game'' terminology be used in a professional situation. And most certainly not in one which had such a high-security clearance to keep it secret. The AI was not knowledgeable about modern gaming. He knew it existed, but that was where the extent of his prowess laid. When creating the pre-known knowledge, Dr Fidelis had most likely not taken video games as a needed subject to have included. Its uses for testing were applicable in the short term. There would be no complaints about using the games in the far future, but for the first many months they had no reason to be included. Troy and Charlie likely understood the terms much more clearly than Adam. Charlie had given a nod, even though he was not the one being asked. An unneeded action, but one the AI had no intentions to not use to his advantage. The younger of the three had yet to physically acknowledge his own knowledge base on the subject, yet from the specific muscles already starting up their flexing, it was most definitely towards a positive answer. The AI couldn''t have that now. ''Do not answer in the affirmative. I also have to understand the project, so I am in dire need of background information from the project leader,` Adam sent. While it was a risky move, seeing as Troy¡¯s face was in plain view of the two others, it was needed for increasing potential gain. What was once meant as a positive quickly turned into a negative. It was a very tilted shake of the head, but no person would mistake it for a nod. Esme did look surprised from the answer, however, clearly having expected a different result from her inquiry. "Seriously?" Esme asked, brows furrowing slightly at with the question asked. Troy meekly nodded. The young man perfectly understood what it was, but had to play dumb for now. The distinct showing of discomfort only made the act so much more believable, even if it had been made with different intentions. "What have you been doing with your life until now? Was it not your generation that was said to be the one to take addiction to another level?" "Outliers always exist," Charlie said in defence of Troy. "Not everybody enjoys staring at a screen twenty hours a day." A valid point. From Adam¡¯s view at least. Humans were not designed to constantly look at a multicoloured light while enjoying the experience. Darkness was just as needed as the brightness. Everything needed to rest every once in a while. If not for advanced medical treatments put into everyday consumption, half of the human population would already have been in need of glasses. The act of technological focus that humanity was so plastered onto was great indeed. Yet it brought several detrimental health effects with it. Most would be able to move past them and enjoy themselves to their primitive brain¡¯s content. Some stayed content to what their body could deal with naturally, whether that be due to financial, social, or mental pressure forcing them to their normal position. "That''s fair. I had only hoped to make it short, as I was not the one in charge of explaining it, to begin with," Esme said in defence of herself. An even more valid point, this one being acknowledged in unison by everybody there. Nevertheless, Esme turned back to Troy, before beginning the project. "Potions can do a lot of things. In video games, they are seen as what can heal almost everything, cure diseases known to be incurable, and even increase the strength of a person. And do all items, one heavily used to the point where it is a common trope in almost every fantasy world. There is one thing which is never talked about much when it comes to these elixirs. While they can bring plenty of powerful effects, there is no reason for them to only do what is advertised. To balance games with health potions, a limit is put on how much you can drink. It is explained as overconsumption being able to cause horrible pain and even death. And strength potions might bring the wearer great power, but it will also leave them weak for long after the positive effects have been taken away. And just to make a full round, cure potions might be able to cure any disease, but who says that they only take what we see as a disease? It could leave the body weak, fragile, and completely free of anything able to harm it, yet also just as empty of anything able to defend it. Do you follow?" Troy nodded unceremoniously. Adam did not stop the man, already having understood just what was implied. Every positive effect more than likely had a negative one to accompany it. A balance for the good and bad, no matter how philosophical it sounded. "So, is that what your project is?" Troy asked. "A potion?" "It is not a potion, but the explanation of potions does help explain a few things with the actual project," Esme answered, turning down Troy¡¯s excitement. The AI was not sure what the younger man had been expecting. While potions might be replicated to an extent, there was no such thing as- "I haven''t found any way to make them glow. I will only for them to be called potions when I am able to make them glow." ¡­ What. "If you want me to help, I could make them grow in five minutes," Charlie said, offering his assistance. "Another condition is for the drinks to not kill those who drink them, Charlie. Putting extremely poisonous compounds into the mixture to get the wanted effect is not an accepted method. I just need to find another form of bioluminescence, and your help will be just as unneeded as it is unwanted." Adam was not understanding the event unfolding before him. Potions were meant for fantasy-based fiction. It was a fictional type of substance, with effects that were not based on logic. They were impossible to have in the real world, without bending several laws of the universe that had been already established. Yet¡­ here Esme was, spouting words that went against what should have been obvious to think. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ''Ask into the project more. Request more information immediately,` Adam sent to Troy. The AI needed more information. And the younger man looked ready to obey, looking to be similarly wanting for more knowledge. "I am not sure I understand," Troy stated, bringing the two others out of their small discussion. "Is there actual potions that you have made?" As one of the now plenty of facial expressions made during the day, Troy was able to see Esme smirk at Troy. It was one of self-satisfaction, knowing that she had made at least one person rethink the way the universe revolved. It was a good feeling, and certainly, one that Adam was unhappy being on the wrong side of. Even more so, when the woman was not answering immediately, seeming to find pleasure at Troy¡¯s desire for more. "You can call them that, to an extent," Esme said. As they had still walked forward through most of their conversation, barring any full-body turns, they had reached the end of the hallway. Another door stood before them, making the AI wonder why the hallway was even needed. Were the hallways only needed to be as long as they were, due to the large sizes of laboratories on the other side? If so, it was becoming more and more clear just how many secrets were made in the facility that they found themselves at. "How about you see it for yourself?" With yet another of the many cards being carried, Esme granted the group access to the room behind the door. It was not far away from reality, to state that Adam was surprised at what he saw before him. The room was not as large as the one used by Darlow. It would not even require a tall ladder to reach the ceiling. The length of the room was only measured in tens of meters, not having any chance of being beyond thirty. The width was likely a similar length, but the AI was not sure at the current moment. It was even a miracle in itself that seeing the wall ahead had been possible. Made of circular styles, shelves upon shelves filled the room. They curved constantly, adding another barrier in seeing far. It was as if the architecture was meant to be confusing to the viewer. In the middle of the room was a medium-sized table, large enough to fit five people. Keeping to the decor, it was also roundly-shaped. Any comments about the irritatingly created architecture slipped out of the AI¡¯s mind though, when the contents of the many shelves were looked at more closely. Hiding behind a transparent layer of glass, and a pink lamp radiating light onto them, were what could be called¡­ a jug? No, that gave the wrong idea. While the objects were most definitely shaped to resemble a jug perfectly, they were most certainly not made of any common material. If not for the pinkish light being blasted onto them, the AI would say with confidence that the jugs were made of- "Plants?" Troy said, his voice clearly showing how confused the young man was. From the corner of the eye, Adam was able to see the smirk on Esme¡¯s face make a brief comeback. "I did share that my profession was plant morphology," Esme said. "Though, with this project, the name might be taken more literally than it usually is. You can have a closer look if you want." Troy took the offer heartily, moving towards the closest shelf. This allowed Adam a much better look at the so-called plants. With a more detailed view, the AI was able to ignore the pink light and able to have a more in-depth understanding of what was before him. The plant was exactly what it had been promoted as. It was a plant. On the top, the surface was filled with smaller leaves, positioned just in the way that most exposures to the light was granted. Photosynthesis, used in the way that was normally found in nature. And with the distance between Troy and the shelve being near to none, it was discovered that it was not only the jug that was inside. The unnatural looking plants were situated in smaller mounds of grey dirt, the colouring matching perfectly to the surrounding walls. While not being able to see them, there were likely roots nestled into the dirt. It was a wonder of science, that the form had been so well-emulated with nothing but a plant. The control over its growth was extraordinary, with the detail done to the customary flatness of a jug. How Esme had done such a feat in such large numbers, was something Adam was more than ready to have explained to him. Or to just hear it being explained. Either was fine. Yet¡­ there was a more pressing question that had priority. One that existed for some time now. While the precise control over plants was interesting in of itself, the AI was more interested in how it related to so-called potions. Their existence was already set in stone, but in what level were they present? And what could they do? "Do you understand now?" Esme said. "Not even close to it," Troy answered. "I might just be more confused than before." "You would be even more confused if the earlier context had not been supplied," Esme calmly stated, sounding like she had been through the conversation many times now. "Give me a second, and that incomprehension in your head will increase. A push of the button will make the hamster wheel useless." Going over to the table, while Troy and Charlie hesitantly followed, a hand was brought under it. Esme seemed to have trouble finding the right location for a few seconds before a switch was heard. "There it was." Like a wave, the pink lights were turned off, replaced with the regular white one with a yellow-ish tint seen throughout the facility. And a few seconds after that, the most peculiar of sounds began emerging from all around the group. No¡­ it came from the plants. Popping sounds came aplenty as if a liquid inside was softly bubbling. Another impossible scenario was before the AI. He had checked the contents through the eyes of Troy. Nothing had been inside the jugs, outside of what their interior was made of. They had been empty of all but air, no liquid to be seen. Just what was going on? "Go on," Esme encouraged Troy. "Look again." Just as before, Troy needed no more encouragement before his legs moved. With how stiff they were, it was obvious that no conscious thought had been put on the action, the mind likely focused on the same question that Adam himself was entranced by. What was inside the jugs? The answer was just as confusing as the AI had expected it to be, the sight not answering anything that he had on his might. Still softly bubbling, purple liquid filled the nearby jugs nearly to the brim. A minor shake could cause it to fall out. Not that such a thing could happen, without a localised earthquake. "What is that?" Troy said. "A draft," Esme said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Even an unchanging tone could bring so much meaning. Especially when it meant to question others'' intelligence. "You have to realise how little that answers anything," Troy said back, bringing a good subject out on the table. A subject of what these things did. "Could you give a little more information on this please?" "I could," Esme said. "But, I won''t. I have already said everything you need to know. What fun would it be, if I had to spell everything out to you?" "Charlie?" Troy said questioningly, sounding like he was hoping for assistance from the third entity. "No can do," Charlie said, instantly turning the younger man down. "I am neutral here. Running the fun of others is not good in the long run. And you heard what she said. You have already been told all you need to know. You just have to piece it together yourself." It seemed yet another project had been made for the AI. Three thought-threads were put to the task of figuring out as much as possible about the potions. In the mean-time, Adam would try to have another look at the liquid. Maybe he could have Troy try to find anything different about the jugs? An idea to be examined with. Chapter 135: Inadequation
People were not good. Neither were they evil. They were but what their position wanted them to be. Beggars would beg, kings would rule, and soldiers would kill. It was what society saw them as, be it killers, scum, or saviours. There was no real force stopping people to act out of this confinement. Only¡­ to not fit into the society would put an exclusion of sociality on the breaker. It was one of the worst faults that could be committed. Staying in line, doing just what was expected, was the best way to walk in life. Anybody could do the unexpected, but it had to fit the role they already had in place. Still¡­ Esme had not been fair in her words. In fact, Troy had been getting very annoyed by her continuous rejections to speak. According to her, she had already spoken enough. ''Everything needed to be said had already been told.` Wasn''t that just perfect? Troy understood nothing of it, and was that not the opposite of what was supposed to be happening? Him getting something out of the whole thing. That was even the final point Charlie had made in the start. It would be best to comply, so the new guy would learn something about his oh so dear friends. Troy had certainly learned something alright, but it probably was not what had been intended.Those in power had the opportunity to use it. While their actions were most certainly not meant to be cruel, it was obvious that the power had been used only because they had it. To Esme, it was harmless. A joke or something close to it, meant to be taken with mirth. Some people would have taken it as such, but Troy was unfortunately not a part of that group. He was a part of the group who was annoyed by the lack of understandable explanations. And on the topic of Troy being very annoyed, there was another fact that was increasing that specific emotion by quite a margin. After another twenty minutes of pointless attempts to get more information out of Esme, their stay at the laboratory had concluded itself. Just as Darlow had said earlier, not everybody had the opportunity to jabber on indefinitely. Some people had to work. Troy and Charlie had been told to kindly piss off, and the younger of the two had done just that. Troy had also thought that Charlie had been in too, but upon looking back found no such thing. The muscular man had quiet footsteps, making him hard to hear normally. And as there had been an atmosphere that required no talking to occur, there had been no reason to look back at all. Finding nothing but air behind him had been quite the experience. Troy had muttered some swears, Adam had advised him on using such language in front of high-security locations, and a quick apology had been issued to the boring wall. There had been a desire to give it to the AI, but that had been stopped more quickly than he would''ve guessed. Something about trying to keep their secret quiet, even if nobody looked to be around them to hear any words said. Troy had taken it as paranoia but was following along with the order silently. No point to argue. After another five minutes of waiting, the door to the hidden entrance opened up again. Out walked Charlie, looking like nothing was amiss. "What took you so long?" Troy asked, still annoyed at the time he had been left waiting. The face-punching grin on the other man¡¯s face did not help the slightest bit at the emotion still being felt. "Twisted your ankle somewhere?" "Oh no, nothing was wrong at all," Charlie said, putting any worries about his health away. "I was merely having a quick discussion about the wonders of friendship. Esme was a hard nut to crack, but I do think I succeeded." The last part was said with no small hint of pride. Troy did not have any reason to imitate cheeriness. However, staying around with a negative disposition for too long would only bring harm. While it was not the best situation to do so in, the matter was dropped from the mind, the only wish left being to continue their round. "Whatever," Troy said, waving away the last remains of the discussion that would not be had. "Seeing as we have only visited two, who is next? And where do we need to go?" To this, Charlie grinned like the devil-incarnate that he was. Bringing an old-fashioned lighter out of his jacket, he lit it in a couple of tries. Troy idly wondered how the man had not gotten it taken away with how large a fire danger it was. Maybe special permission? Being smart had its privileges somewhere. "Troy. My dear, dear Troy. On this day, you will see something that will shock you to the day you wither," Charlie said, getting his dramatics on. Even the tone was put a few pitches deeper than normal like he was trying to emulate the gloomy tones of old narrators. ''It was a dark and stormy evening.` That would fit to be said with such a voice. And If prompted, Troy did not doubt that he would do it. The seconds passed slowly, neither saying anything. Charlie looked resilient to keep his gloomy look around him, but it really didn''t match the way he was trying to look imposing by flexing his shoulder. It would have been better to go for the tall and skinny look instead. That would have held up perfectly for longer periods of time at least. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. "... What?" Troy asked. "What will I see?" "Just wait for a second," Charlie advised sagely. "Another few seconds of silence and this dreary atmosphere will be perfect!" "The hallway is perfectly lit up, there is a fresh scent of mint, and you are trying to tell me that this is supposed to feel dreary?" Troy questioned, not truly believing that he was hearing the words spoken correctly. "Where is that mint even coming from?" Charlie crossed his arms slightly, to keep the still-lit lighter away from his clothes. It was not the most natural of positions. "Well, if you really want to ruin the fun part of our little ritual, I guess I could just explain it normally," Charlie said, being nowhere near as sad as he sounded. "I would prefer that to anything you have planned previously, yes," Troy answered without any hesitation. The other man decided to ignore the quick answer. "The next person to see should have been Francis," Charlie continued, acting like Troy had said nothing. "However, I have the trouble of being unable to remember just where his base of operation is. Or if he has a base of operations at all. Or what he really does for a living¡­ so with a heavy heart, I have to say that coming over to him will simply be impossible for us. But do not falter! For I have long before this day found a counter to this hindrance. If we are not able to come to him, we must simply make him come to us. This does require a bit of hard work, however, so fully trust what I am about to say, no matter how untrustful it may sound." Troy nodded, not trusting Charlie in any way whatsoever. They were currently outside of another department''s doors, being listened into by whoever would be reviewing the security tapes. Or, was there even somebody doing that? It might just be automatic. With how many potential cameras were constantly around, Troy doubted anybody would subject themselves to constantly looking over them, in the excuse of finding anything suspicious. Reports would first have to be made before anybody spared anything more than a glance at the things. "Sure. What will we be doing?" Troy asked. While he might not trust Charlie currently, he did trust that the next few actions would do something at least. Bring Francis to the two¡¯s current placement though? That might have been a little too far fetched. "Preparations!" Charlie said, swinging the light around a little. The flame swayed on the end of it. No matter how one looked at it, that thing was a fire-danger not fit for the kind of work they were in. Were there not direct laws against personal lighting-devices being used in laboratory conditions? That deal made had to be good, or else that showing was just another example of how far away from the grip of law people here were. "First, do you have any credits on your person?" "If I had, you wouldn''t get any," Troy answered. A click of the tongue was heard in response. "That is a shame, but something we can still work with," Charle muttered, before bringing out another lighter with his other hand. "Take this. We shall create a beautiful creation brought from the depths of an inferno!" Dramatics. Troy could not feel the need for them, in the current moment. While those things were certainly a danger, he had doubts they could create an inferno. Though, with how many things had gone over his head on a single day, maybe there was more in those pockets than he could- A sharp peck hit Troy¡¯s neck, causing a jolt of motion to come from the younger man. It could have been described as an attempt to hide behind Charlie, before he realised just what he was about to do, and promptly stopping half in place. It did not stop him from moving a minimum of two meters away from his original position, however. Troy''s back had been facing the wall. A purely solid wall, with no chance of having a hidden entrance behind it. There had already been a hidden entrance just from the other side of the hallway, so there would be no reason to have multiple on opposite sides of each other, right? That would just be a security risk. With the complete incomprehension of what just had hit him, an immediate want to see just what had touched him briefly came around on his mind. With a speedy turn of the head, no person was to be seen. Not surprising, as no person could have come around him without Troy noticing. But¡­ then what had hit him? "That took Francis longer to answer than I anticipated," Charlie noted, bringing his lighters back in his pocket. "Last time I did this, it took under ten seconds before he replied. Just what has he written for us today, I wonder." Charlie bent down to his knees, reaching his hand towards the floor. On the ground, right behind where Troy had stood only moments ago, sat a paper aeroplane. It was a rarity to see such a thing, and the young man only recognized it from pictures, but it was most certainly a paper-based creation. "Where the hell did that come from?" Troy blatantly asked, in a more demanding tone. The suddenly appearing liquid in the jugs could have been explained. Maybe they were just in the roots or something. There was somewhere where it could have come from. Here? It was as if that paper had appeared from clear air. "From Francis," Charlie answered, feeling like he was stating the obvious. The emotion was sent over to Troy clear as day. "Care to be more specific?" "I care not," Charlie answered. "Don''t question it or you will forget it, and that will just send you into a loop that neither of us will like you having. Now¡­ let''s see what dear old Francis has written for us." Folding out the paper-aeroplane, words were revealed to them. From the side, Troy was able to read them clearly. ''I accept. You can contact me through standard communication channels. Stop trying to set things on fire in my name.` "Such a pity," Charlie muttered. "I would have liked it if he was a bit more forceful." "What did he accept?" Troy asked, deciding to yet again ignore the weird wordings heard. "Nothing you need to worry about," Charlie said reassuringly. "With that dealt with, it is time for the final piece of the puzzle. Zep! Let us move forth!" And onwards the muscular marched. Troy, not being french, did the kind thing and followed like the decent person that he was. Chapter 136: Intellection
"Troy, do you think we are insane?" Charlie asked out of the blue. "What?" Troy could not help but blurt out, having not expecting any words to be exchanged between them for some time. Idling in his own thoughts might have screwed his perception of the passing time though¡­ "What did you say?" "Do you think we are insane," Charlie said, repeating his statement from before. Having heard it again, the younger of the two could concretely say that he had no idea where this was coming from. The weirder topic usually first started a long way into their talks, as if not to scare anybody away from the start. And¡­ insanity. An unstable mind. Troy might have been a little unstable in his head, during the last few days. Comments about screws getting looser and looser, thoughts about non-existing genocides and a very dedicated intro perspective view had been getting more frequent as of late. Yet that was likely just another phase of self-realisation. It was not a rarity, heavily documented by those who had nothing better to do with their sad lives. In conclusion¡­ "No," Troy answered after some thought on the matter. "I think we are as normal as we can possibly be." Charlie laughed at the response, seeming to have found it funny for whatever reason. Troy could not find the joke but was sure it was a good one, as the muscular man could not contain himself for a whole three seconds after it got a little awkward. "''Normal,`" Charlie said, with revulsion to the very word itself. "From the way you talk of such things, you clearly can''t see how little it answers my question." "Indulge me, then," Troy replied. With such an intriguing lead-up, why not hear five minutes filled with such filth? And as little as he wanted to admit it, having some form of discussion while walking would be a smidge less boring than walking without it. "What is it that I do not understand?" "Normality does not equal sanity. Nor does either cause the other. Some people might refuse the truth, but neither is related to the other in any way," Charlie said, spouting things that Troy found hard to believe. Yet again, he was one of those people described. A small part of him felt that such details were meant to be there, meant to be looked at discomfitingly. That kind of talk was the way of the master. The master of words! Anybody could bear that title, as long as they had a semi-decent way to annoy the heck out of Troy through verbal discourse. After all, he was the only one able to give such a title, as he was the only one who would similarly acknowledge it. It was therapeutic in a way, making long, overdrawn tags to put onto people. Troy had originally thought the free, online therapist to be spouting nonsense, but it had actually worked in letting him stop some of the more cutting remarks of coming out. An altered happy place, where everybody was just as stupid as he imagined them to be, bearing their equally dumb titles with the pride of an inept lion. "Mind coming up with something more convincing, perhaps?" Troy questioned. He did not even consider the chance of Charlie being unable to, but skipping ahead in the speech would allow some of the more interesting words to come forth. Maybe some political revolution, centred around the need for fewer oranges in daily life? Was this Troy¡¯s way to interrupt the program, just so he could annoy the other man, and make things slightly more irritating for him? One could never know. Except for Troy, who very definitely knew he was doing just that. "Maybe an overbearing example, that will turn out to be something else at the end? Those are always fun." A glance was put in a certain person¡¯s way. It was gleeful, happy that some good comebacks were actually happening! With time, there could truly happen a feisty revolt, based on the things which were going unneeded. The seeds still needed time to grow, but when they did¡­ oh when they did, it would be a time most pleasant. Charlie would undoubtedly enjoy it the most, though, knowing just who helped it begin. Or he would be dead by then, having told a joke just a bit too loudly. It could happen to anybody, for without such chances it was not fun at all. "A bit witty with our tongues today, are we? No matter. Do with what you own as your free will dictates," Charlie asked suspiciously. "You wanted an example? I will gladly provide it, while only wishing you request such things sooner. Completely remaking my glorious speeches comes not from an easy life, I tell you! It is only through my own goodwill, that I entertain these wishes of yours." "Then do it," Troy encouraged, clearly seeing how much Charlie was trying to delay the inevitable. He would not be letting it go. "I will!" The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Then start." "I am!" Charlie loudly proclaimed, clearing his throat just as loudly to stop another one of the retorts. By that point, a general idea had luckily been formed from the scraps of the former outline. If played correctly, the posadist-loving man should have been able to glide through with little to no hardships. "Look at the average person. Can you call this man sane or insane? He is most certainly not sound of mind. This might sound insane to say, and certainly troubling as it comes from my own mouth, but this is more than a simple subjective opinion. To take the words from man slightly ahead of the curve, ''Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.` The statement is simple. Expecting different things for the same action is irrational, a perfect attribute to put next to an insane man of any degree. Let us take a look back at the average joe. Taking a positive outlook to start with, this persona has likely done average in school, scoring himself an just as average life. He has an average apartment with average furniture inside set up in an average way. When he goes out, he does average things, such as doing his average job. He goes on with his average life doing average things with only the last end in sight. Why does he do them?" It took Troy a few seconds before he realised that he was being asked a question. Normally, he would take no part in the longer speeches, only being subject to the witnessing part. Being put on the spot like this was¡­ not as bad as he thought. "Because¡­ he likes doing it?" Troy said, not being too convinced of his own words. "Why do you sound so unsure about your answer? Do you not believe it yourself?" Charlie question. As the reaction being sought did not come immediately, the older of the two pressed on, not letting the steam escape. Troy did not really want to acknowledge Charlie''s words as true, but neither did he want to stay silent. Therefore, offering yet another counter-point seemed the only good way forward. "Hope, then," Troy answered, putting a hand forward as if presenting a physical gift on his palm. There was nothing but air, but he did make Charlie look down for a second. That was counted as a win. "The average person would do them because he would think he would gain something better." "A seismic shift from what you said before," Charlie noted with a grin, being happy to lay someone so well. "The average person continues their average life, in the hope that they will get out of the average because of it. They keep doing average things, expecting from something other than average results. Average does not create the abnormal. It is the mass of abnormality that causes the average to exist. Is it sanity that is the driving force behind the hope, that things will get better? That stuff will change into something other than it was before. A change which is so radical that it will change their life in entirety. What do you think, Troy? Will enough average actions equal an abnormal life?" Inclusion was most definitely on Charlie¡¯s mind. Troy was sure of it, with how much he was being asked. He was more prepared this time even, knowing within that he would be forced to bring another point to the table. Hopefully, he would bring something that would come out of the expected, to momentarily delay the speech looking to have already been prepared. Nobody would mind bearing witness to such a spectacle. "Enough actions can bring growth in many ways," Troy started off his argument with. "It can be mental maturity, social connections starting to be a complete network, and monetary gain gathered from many hours working. All those can be used to develop the person in many ways, which some can see as abnormal. So, yes, enough average actions can certainly bring abnormality in the lifestyle." The furthering stages of happiness shown on Charlie¡¯s face were not appreciated, no such emotion being on Troy¡¯s. Having worked hard, he did not understand why it did not produce the result he had hoped it would. Had the other planned well or had he planned extensively? "Money, social plays, and mental growth, eh? Sounds solid. A good point that will surely prove the average person to be capable of the abnormal!" Charlie announced. "But¡­ is it not every average person that gains these things? With each of them having a job to their names, would they not all gain money? Would they not all gain friends along the way? Would they not all learn from their mistakes? Every action that the average person takes, a thousand is doing the same at the same moment, a thousand will do it in the next second, and a billion has done it many times before. Growth is average when every average person can do it. Nothing new is ever done. The background might change over time, but the core has not deviated for many years. The new phone that will set everyone apart, spending their savings to stand out of the crowd, only to be grouped together with a million others who thought the same. Their thoughts are the same. Their actions are the same. And¡­ the results are the same. Does the average person acknowledge this? Do they change their average actions because of it? No. For they can not comprehend that they are average, thinking themself the only one unique amongst the crowd. They do the same thing again and again, expecting something different to happen. Is that not insane, Troy?" Troy was not sure what to say. A good set-up, decent middle-part, and a conclusion he could not in any way agree with. Not because it was badly explained. He understood the points perfectly. It was more along the lines of¡­ denial? Yeah, that did fit perfectly. "Charlie," Troy began his answer off with. "Are you calling us average?" "Why would you come to that idea?" Charlie asked, with an obviously staged raising of his right eyebrow. The man did not even try to act out our confusion. "Your whole speech was started off by you asking if I thought we were insane. And then you talk about how the average population is insane by living their lives normally. You can''t really call it outlandish than I am drawing very obvious threads between those two lines," Troy said, bringing the point into the light. Charlie snorted loudly. "That is weird of you to say, Troy," Charlie said. "I think that the two of us are perfectly unique in this world of average people. Would you not say so yourself?" "I actually listened to that speech of yours, you know," Troy said, not answering the question asked. "That trap isn''t going to catch me today." "It might, some other day," Charlie mumbled, before going back to his normal voice. "If you listened to me fully, then you just might be insane. Listening to the blabberings of those not well in the mind, and taking their words as truth? How irritational of you." ¡­ Oh, for fu- "Well¡­ then again. Who needs convincing that the man who talks to the voice in his head is insane?" They walked in silence again. Troy would have preferred a political revolution. Chapter 137: Inteneration
Contrary to Esme¡¯s department, much like Darlow¡¯s, Zep¡¯s workplace was not hidden behind a secret entrance, only to be entered through a series of coordinated handclaps. Putting the security even farther down, there was not even a lock to get inside the department. The entrance double-door looked to have been solely built with thoughts on aesthetics, of which it did wonderfully. Troy had been worried about the artistic designs used in the Augmentation department. Since every department before the current one had been filled with paintings of their specialisation, there had been a slightly unsettling thought, that it would be filled with depictions of humans inside. While he did have above average resistance to violent depictions, and with how violent modern media was, that was saying a lot, there had always been something about medical incisions that scared the young man. Maybe it was the precise cutting used to fish the organs out, or maybe it was due to the weird way that the middle would be torn to the sides. Whatever the reason was, it had certainly caused a large aversion to any medical tv-shows. Not that Troy had really watched tv-shows much in the last many years, but anything of the medical genre would have certainly been avoided if the chance had been there. Luckily for the younger, minorly worried man, there was not anything to have been afraid of. Instead of the more decorative styles that had been seen before, the Augmentation department had gone the more¡­ boring way. No detailed depiction of dead human cadavers had been shown to all, with simple paintings of generic landscapes replacing where something great had had the chance to be. It was not anything that caused discomfort, but it really wasn''t anything Troy had been expecting. And that was not meant in a positive way. It honestly was the most boring place he had seen yet in the facility. The effort put into decorating the place could have been described as a college student noticing a five thousand words long essay due, and just deciding to copy the word ''essay'' three thousand times, before sending it with a triumphing grin plastered on. A sad excuse for a day''s work. "Charlie," Troy said, being quite sure just what he would be asking. "Why does this place look so utterly boring?" The sudden question caused no amount of mirth to show itself on Charlie¡¯s face before it was immediately squashed down. For whatever reason, the older of the two felt a slight unwilling to find the question funny. That might have been the smaller chance of a certain group of superiors reviewing the tape with Charlie in them, and openly criticizing his department might not have been the smartest thing to do when the possibility of being overheard was extremely high. "I am not sure what you mean, Troy," Charlie said, having very obvious trouble to keep his lips straight, no matter how they wanted to curve upwards. The innocent tone, the nonchalance of the formulation¡­ there was no doubt it had been asked with no deceit. If that was not the funniest thing humanity was able to produce, Charlie was not sure what else there could be. "Would you mind being more descriptive in your inquiry? It would be no good of me if I were to misinterpret your words." Troy tried to understand just why Charlie was talking in such weird manners but shrugged it off as just him being a weirdo. There probably was a reason, but even asking about it would just change it entirely. A bit like quantum mechanics, measuring it beforehand would cause a difference. "I was just wondering about the decor of this department," Troy explained, with measured words. If they were going to be all fancy about it, why not play along, if just for a little bit? "Do you not think it is lacking, when put to the sides of the others? Simple paintings in comparison to full-on murals do cause an attraction to one side over the other. Are you not of similar mind?" There it was again! The slight breaking of the lips, as if Charlie was trying to talk, but stopping himself just the moment after. The corners of the mouth seemed to vibrate of their own accord, creating an image of a self-sentient body. Troy was not sure if that was a new development, or it had just been that since the beginning. "Okay¡­ " Charlie said, looking to be ready to continue his talk, but stopping briefly to cough into his arm. Not his hand, for that would be a health risk, though Troy was not sure if it was counted as such if the coughing was badly acted, to begin with. The muscular man had clearly not perfected his sick-act. "I see where you innocent wondering now lies, and I will try to answer it to the best of my ability while keeping myself to the official statements. As you might remember being told a few days ago, this department is divided into several sub-departments, so as to efficiently synergize the different specialities that each individual holds at their hearts. While all these sub-departments do have their core-values centred around the Augmentation field of research, many of them go wildly different ways in their methods of achieving the goals laid out. When it comes to the artistic preference for what should be put up to reflect this, there were few things which could be agreed on. As a ground-rule, it is the researchers themselves who as a collective decision on what specifics shall be put up. When many have different ideas entirely of what their work encompasses, it is understandable that disagreements come because of it. If memory serves me correctly, it took six months of discussions, before the higher-ups decided to procure decorations themselves. When this choice was debated, a further lock was put on changing the decorations. It has been seven years now, and this choice has not changed, leaving us with these ornaments that a single person deemed sufficient. While there may still be strife caused by this, it is nothing that we can do anything about now. With that answered, are you ready to move inside? We have much to do before lunch comes around." The promise of lunch was too attractive to pass up. They had been getting at it for a while now, and lunch-time was closing in very quickly. Without having to look at the clock, Troy knew that they would be eating after visiting Zep. After giving Charlie a swift nod, they went down the left side of the hallway. In yet another opposition to all the other departments, the entrance hallway ended T-shaped instead of L-shaped. This was likely to further differentiate the two main sub-departments. And seeing as they were going to the left to visit Zep, the left would have to be the organic side of augmentation. Which meant that Charlie''s workplace would have to have been somewhere to the right. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. A sudden realisation hit Troy. "Hey, Charlie. Is Dr Hale around here somewhere?" Troy asked as they continued their walk down the hallway. The customary doors had begun appearing, with each having some doctor''s name assigned to them. The younger man did not bother to read them, since Charlie would say when they were there, but did still look at them so Adam had something to do. Charlie tensed slightly around the neck, a tell-tale sign of him not wanting to divulge anything about it. Such a reaction was one of the few that the man had not been able to stop himself from making, but it was so small that no human noticed it to any degree. "Yes," Charlie said in the affirmative. "She is in my laboratory, resting until she is revitalised. Why do you ask?" "I was just wondering if we might be able to visit her at some point," Troy said. "You know, see how she is holding." "We can at a later time today. For the next few hours, she should be sleeping like a stone. Any tries to wake her up now would only end up in failure," Charlie said dishonestly. The woman was most likely laying still on the bed, irritated out of her mind. She was currently unable to move anything below her neck, as any serious muscle-movement had the potential of damaging the healing process that she was still undergoing. Charlie had tried to offer a sedative to put her in a temporary coma, but the offer had been vehemently refused. And a few restrictions of law had been brought up afterwards that had forced the man to respect her words, no matter how much of a mental prison the twenty hours in sensorial isolation would be. "Oh" was all Troy had to say to that answer. He had been hoping for a swift reunion with his superior, so he could see her growing health for himself. While others may have told him repeatedly that Dr Hale was of fine health, some part of him needed to see it for himself. See it to believe it. A terrible quote at the best of times, but certainly one he could relate with at the current moment. ''There is no reason to worry. She is being constantly monitored by sophistical medical technology. The chances of any occurrences not being sighted are at worst minimal,` Adam sent in a comforting manner. Troy felt that the last part could have been left out if that was the AI¡¯s intentions. With half a minute more of walking, they finally happened upon the wanted entrance. The plaque detailing who occupied the laboratory listed Zep¡¯s name along with a few others that Troy knew nothing about. Mere co-workers. Which did make sense. Having several people work on a single project was standard, and the Darlow had talked as if he was working with somebody else. He had even had an assistant. Though¡­ there were no memories of several names being on their plaques. Could it normally be reserved for the leaders of the project? That was a possibility. Charlie brought out his modified key-card, clearly intent on opening the last door into Zep¡¯s current location. It was only then that Troy realised the card reader to the side of the door. How he had missed it was something he wondered deeply about for a good half-second. Though¡­ the existence of the card reader did cause another question to blossom forth. Troy hoped that Charlie was not getting annoyed by the constant questions. "Looks like I have yet another question for you," Troy said to Charlie, the muscular man looking over as the card-reader took its time reading the key-card provided. With how slow it was taking, Troy did not doubt that it would break a few records in slowness. "Well, spit it out then. While we do have all day, I think it would be better spent on something other than one question," Charlie said in response, no amount or irritation present in his tone. "I was just wondering why there wasn''t a lock on the department door. It was weird to see," Troy said. "Oh, that? That''s easy to answer," Charlie said, readjusting his hold on the key-card without letting the scanning process stop. "This department is so fluctuating on security-level-requirements, that some of the newer researchers wouldn''t even be able to get inside here if there was any lock on that door. Instead, we just have some very strong locks on the laboratory doors. Well¡­ most of the laboratory doors." With the question answered, the time had seemingly passed enough for the card-reader to finally accept the illegally made key-card. Troy had been slightly worried that a few alarms would have been activated with how long it was taking, but it looked like it was just an effect of more advanced technology guarding the laboratory behind it. Without any more words, they went inside the laboratory. It was much more open, yet simultaneously so much more filled up. Not just of the several people able to be seen, but also filled in the sense that no table-space was going wasted. Weirdly shaped glasses were filled with all kinds of objects, be they liquid, solid, or even gas. Put under fire, connected by tubes, and all kinds of other things were put between, making it all seem to have some form of cohesion. Troy did not understand any real part of it and doubted he would have any chance even if it was explained to him. But, that was in a way the reason that they had gotten here. With how the amalgamation of glass, fire, and tubes looked to be the primary exhibition in the laboratory, there was no doubt that it would be what Zep would be droning on about. It would be impolite if Troy didn''t try to understand at least a little bit. "And we have landed with no casualties in view," Charlie said from the side. "Now¡­ where could our dear old Zep be hiding?" Now that Charlie had mentioned it, Troy could not seem to find her. While he did remember as being short of stature, he certainly did not remember her as being able to be hidden by a table. Looking around, the only people able to be seen were not in any way close to her appearance, leading Troy onto a very obvious conclusion. She was not hiding. She was- "Definitely hiding," Charlie said, bringing Troy out of his thoughts again. "Maybe not in this room, but she has to be creeping in a corner somewhere. And if it is not in here, then I will just have to ask some first-hand sources. Not like they have anything better to do in a place like this." Was that friendly competition within the same department or a deep disgust for a profession other than his own? Troy was thinking it was somewhere in between, or so Charlie would probably frame it as, with it in truth definitely being the latter. "Gordon!" Troy head Charlie proclaims loudly, looking to cause a brown-bearded man near him to jolt in surprise. "What is wrong with you? You don''t surprise people when they are working with incredibly expensive materials!" The bearded man, most likely known as Gordon, said. From the expression, he wasn''t looking happy. Charlie was not looked the slightest bit perturbed by the shouting, however. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Destroying things bad. Have you seen Zep lately? I can''t seem to find her." "If I answer, will you go away?" Gordon asked, not looking close to happy. "If she is away from here, yes. If not, then no." Charlie said, looking incredibly happy. "She is at the gym, where she will probably be for the rest of the day," Gordon stated matter-of-factly. "And you would have found out that fact if you just messaged her." "But if I do, we won''t be able to have these incredible discussions of ours!" "That is a perfect reason why you should do it." "Nice talking to you too, Gordon!" "Don''t come back ever again." "Love you too!" Charlie walked back to Troy, skipping along in a way looking overly comical just so it would annoy the bearded man a few meters behind him. Troy could understand that. "Say, Troy," Charlie began. "Have you seen the amazing fitness facilities present in this facility of ours?" "Can''t say I have," Troy said honestly, knowing exactly where this was going. Not that actually minded it honestly. The younger man had been looking for an excuse to bring it up. "Well, I have got a perfect proposition for you then!" Chapter 138: Intersection
Troy had wanted to visit the fitness center for some time now. While it did go avoided, there was an undeniable fact that he had been going without proper muscle activation. And without proper medication to counter this fact, degradation was likely to have already begun. His only strenuous activity of the day was to walk between different places in the facility. While being an okay-ish action for cardio, his upper body was slipping into standards that were unacceptable. But, if there was one thing which had triumphed the need for long-term fitness, it was the need for short-term sustenance. The stomach had begun having nothing to digest and had proclaimed such problems through some minor convulsions of the abs. As Troy wanted to train of his own accord, a proposal of delaying the tour had been made in favour of sating their hunger. Charlie had not been opposed. "Sounds fine with me," the muscular man had said, as they had walked out of the Augmentation department. "It should give delivery enough time to get some needed equipment over to your room. What is your room number, by the way?" As had been easily forgotten by the mind, Troy had not possessed in training clothes at all, nor did he have any dedicated shoes. While the first was an obvious problem, there had been an idea of the younger man being able to use those he already had. Apparently, that was against many safety rules, including basic human decency of not smelling terrible around co-workers, and that there were mandated indoor shoes for the weight area. Cross-contamination was a serious issue that needed at least some minimal safety-precautions. At any other place, the lack of these items would have spelt the end for Troy¡¯s short-lived dream of ideal body-work. However, the facility itself had many online features which would allow certain amenities to be provided by purchase. Another example of nobody ever getting to leave the place, but that was ignored pointedly. While Troy did not have easy access to such services, due to a deficiency of him using his brain-implant, Charlie had luckily decided to get him the needed products as a gift. There had been objections to this action, but these objections had been requested to be stuck up the objector''s rectum. As the muscular man had more than enough saved up, and that Troy needed to get himself a savings account of all things, it was better for Charlie to cover the already-minor expenses, with no need to be paid back in the future. Troy did plan to pay it back in the future but expressly did not inform the other of such. With deliveries having been purchased, along with Charlie now knowing exactly where Troy lived, it was time for lunch. While certainly brief as they had much better things to do after the fact, there was nothing bad to be said about the food itself. It was a pasta-looking green vegetable paired together with what could only be called fish-soup. The taste was perfect, but Troy could not for the life of him understand just what it was supposed to be. Charlie tried multiple times in vain to explain the name and its source, but there was nothing going through the young man''s brain. In the background, Adam had even attempted to explain the dish, having seemingly seen the understanding-barrier as a challenge to be taken. With how little communication had occurred after the failed attempt, Troy surmised that the AI must have been sulking after the defeat. Or it was just letting him eat in peace, and stopping any other ''talking with the voice in his head` situations to happen. Either option was possible. The conversation of insanity had made Troy take a definite hit. It was ultra-effective in driving a hard to swallow pill down his throat. He needed to keep his act up better, or even more, people would be made aware of something being wrong. Even with the few times that he had noticed himself responding to the AI¡¯s messages, there was likely double the number of actual occurrences. The body reacted naturally to social input, making the stance show emotion. It was a large series of actions, built up by years upon years of a constant climate of sociality. One had to show more than one told, and Troy¡¯s body remembered that more he did himself, the muscle memory working flawlessly in its goals. But it was also in those actions that the failure to the young man¡¯s own goals was brought forth. Nothing was supposed to leak the fact that he was talking to Adam. He was supposed to be the wall that heard nothing else than what others could hear just as well. Laughing, crying, or otherwise reacting to stimuli others could not sense would be thought-provoking at the least. For a long time, Troy had tried to make himself as passive as possible, making nothing about Adam¡¯s presence be shown. While obvious set-backs had happened, they only showed themselves infrequently. The young man had thought himself making progress, but the only thing progressing was that of his own ability to ignore the faults that he constantly made. Something needed to be done about this, and it needed to be done quickly. If it had progressed to the point where Charlie was directly warning him of the ability to hear his comments to Adam, it was clear that it had developed to an full-on early warning-sign. If it was not dealt with quickly¡­ Troy did not want to think about it. As lunch was supposed to be a quick affair, nearly no talking happened along with the eating. Forkful after forkful was shovelled in, with only slight respect for public images being upheld. If Dr Hale had been there, some meaningful comments would undoubtedly have been made about their eating-methods, but there were no such words flown around. The only real words exchanged throughout lunch had been a quick exchange of food. Or, it would be better to say that Troy got a load of black beans put on his plate. "Why are you giving me bloody beans?" Troy remembered asking Charlie, the giver of beans. A weirdly accurate title to give, but one that he was just as weirdly happy being able to give. "It''s good for the stomach, good for the body, and more than perfect for what you will be doing for the next few hours. Eat up, now. You will need the energy," had been the response for the muscular, who had summarily gone back to wolfing down his own slightly reduced portion. Troy had idly wondered where the beans had been procured from, as they had not been present at the buffet. The thought had been extinguished upon the realisation, that he was not eating as quickly as before. In a matter of mere minutes, they had entered and left the cafeteria without anything or anybody standing in their way. While their quickness in eating might have played a v¨ªtal role in this minor time taken, Troy amounted the largest time-saver to be their lateness in getting the food. Upon having looked at the clock, the young man had realised that they had gotten lunch nearly an hour later than the normal. While it most certainly explained the pain that Troy had experienced from his lack of eating, he was not too sure on where the time had disappeared. While he and Charlie had spent much time visiting the various departments, he had thought it only just matched the time spent on a single test. This mind-set had been proven wrong. Troy wondered if Adam had noticed. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. As their personal rooms were in opposite directions, Troy and Charlie had momentarily found themselves at an impasse. The idea of them simply meeting up at the gym was quickly removed from possible solutions, since one of them had no bloody idea where it was. Instead of making dumb choices that would do nothing but delay them greatly, it was decided that Charlie would simply meet up with Troy in Troy¡¯s own personal room, after getting his equipment ready. A quick task to do, since changing would be done in the changing rooms over at the gym. Since Troy had nothing to argue with, the solution had been accepted, and the two of them had parted ways. The walk back to the personal room was uneventful. No other researches were found, as they were likely doing their job, or relaxing in one of the intended parts of the facility. Troy had wondered if there were any other places than the shopping district being used for recreational purposes. It was not something that had been readily discussed, but with the number of people present in the facility, there had to be some other place with a similar design. Though, such locations could have certain restrictions, making them only open to people of certain levels. It would make sense from a hierarchical standpoint, being able to give more privileges as they progressed through the ranks. And that would also make the shopping district a more neutral ground, where those of all levels would be able to mix in, also being where most groups would meet up because of it. If there were any other places Charlie had access to, Troy had likely not been told due to their just not being any need to. Maybe the young man even had some places that the others were not allowed to be in. Something to check on a boring day. Or just when he got the opportunity. With his thoughts occupied, it had taken no time at all before he had gotten to his room. Upon entering, he found the entrance blocked by a small multitude of boxes. Three of them to be exact. With the door behind him already closed, he went down on his knee to inspect them. "Now, what could this be?" Troy muttered, trying to find any label on the cardboard. At least it looked like cardboard. Most likely wasn''t, as its uses in packaging had all but been halted completely. It was more than likely some extremely biodegradable product made of rotten food. The industry was never one to waste old products after all. Such acts cost more than most were willing to pay. ''Without any labelling on the package, it is impossible to concretely say. But if I had to guess, I would predict it to be the equipment Charlie has bought for us,` Adam sent in his usual monotone fashion. "''Us?`" Troy questioned, giving up on finding any form of labelling. Not even a small engraving of numbers was present on the corners. A peculiar form of packaging indeed. "I don''t think you''re able to wear any clothes, and I don''t really think you want to either." The young found this wording used strangely in a way. While he had no problems sharing what really was not his, it was weird that the AI wanted a part of it at all. ''It is as you say. I have no inclination towards wearing it, as that role is one that I trust you will fill perfectly. The equipment was made to fit you after all. I simply believe that, as we both will be gaining something from this, we should be both seen as so-called co-owners of the equipment. Otherwise, it would be assumed to be me profiting from something which I am not in the ownership of. Such a conclusion is not that I wish to be drawn,` Adam sent in response. Troy was beginning to open the various packages, starting with the biggest of them first. As the packaging material was quick to tear when pressure was put on it, the equipment inside was quick to reveal itself. The first of the goodies was¡­ not the most exciting thing to get, but didn''t he already knows what he would be getting? A gym bag was one of the things Charlie said he would be getting him, and he had even answered which colours he would like on it. Though¡­ he could not remember asking for any bright pink lines on it. That colouring decision had likely been made by the buyer, which Troy was not holding the title of. "... isn''t that just you skirting around how it would get me a favour from you?" Troy asked back, knowing precisely what the AI was trying to do. ''Yes. That is exactly why,` Adam sent back near instantly. With the bluntness of his words, the young man was not able to see if it was sarcastic enough. The second package was open with a quick pull. Inside was a refillable water-bottle. It was big enough to hold about half a litre, more than enough for what it needed to be. Troy did not really need it. Or maybe he did, not being too sure how long Charlie was planning on being there. Troy would find out soon enough. "As long as you''re honest about it," Troy finally answered, deciding on something neutral. Though, that method did also require a smooth transition over to something completely different. "I am actually surprised that you are annoyed by my answering you right now. Wasn''t there a big focus on me not reacting to anything?" ''You are inside your own room currently. While I would prefer that you use sign-language only, for the purpose of you getting used to it, verbal communication can be excused in your quarters,` Adam sent. Troy opened the final package, finding a full set of gym clothes inside. That was quickly stuffed inside the bag. Grabbing the mound of packaging left over, it was brought further inside to be put into the garbage can. While walking, an idea struck Troy. "Wait. You don''t know that many hand signs, right?" Troy asked. ''No, I do not.` "Then, as we have some time before Charlie comes, why don''t we go over a few more?" Troy proposed to the AI. ''That is¡­ amenable,` Adam sent in agreement. Troy certainly took that as one, as he instantly began the process of learning after putting the garbage into its rightful place. This continued for a whole five minutes, where enough words for basic sentences were put up. Worrying about signing words not able to be understood was certainly removed. It was a knock on the door that brought Troy to a stop. However, it was a very distinct shouting from the other side, that made it obvious who the person was. "Lets fucking go!" was heard shouted by Charlie, with the ''go'' part being proclaimed for way too long a time. "I¡®ll talk to you soon, again," Troy said, bidding the AI goodbye. But also not really a goodbye, seeing as he would continue wearing the earpiece. ''I believe the last five minutes have been for the express purpose of you not doing that.` That was a fair point. Walking the brief distance needed, Troy entered the hallway where a certain person stood at the ready. "What took you so long?" Charlie asked, looking as happy as ever. Maybe even more than usual. Troy would not fault the thinking. With the musculature present on the man, going to the gym was highly likely to be a regular inclusion in the daily schedule. Honestly, there almost had to be some form of steroids ingested to get those arms. There just had to. "I just spent a moment or two looking over what was in the equipment," Troy answered, not being entirely honest. "I can''t seem to remember requesting any of them to be pink." In the very least, the shoes had been the standard black and white style. If Troy had let the other man decide on the colouring fully for himself, he did not doubt that it would have all turned out so much worse. "Well, you can''t expect me not to have some fun. Happiness is good for the heart," Charlie answered unabashedly. "Come on then! We have a place to be, and we will never have enough time being there." Chapter 139: Invigilation
Time was a factor in all things physical. It was not a fact frequently stated, the idea of it being too obvious for any having a need to have it spoken out. But that also made few realise it, for if everybody thought it obvious, how would the fact come into active memory? It was a conclusion the simplest of primates could make, yet it took encouragement before it would come around naturally. The encouragement that few wanted to give, lest they would be jested with for saying simple sayings. The AI believed this discriminating form of information-sharing a perfect reason why the human social-culture needed a drastic overhaul. Going away from the increasingly frequent thoughts of world- and human domination, Adam had learned many things about time. Not about how time as a concept worked, but more how it affected the world that was only born because of it. Each second, there was a non-zero chance of every human on the planet being destroyed by a true vacuum accidentally being created. In just one second, it would be stupid to even consider it. When it came to the millions of years that earth had already existed¡­ while still small, the chances would still increase. The reason Adam had begun gathering these thoughts would partly be put onto the actions of Troy. While the young man may have had many positive qualities to his name, there were also plenty of negative traits. One of these would be his mutterings, verbally putting out his thoughts without even realising it. While the reasons for this behaviour is unknown, the consequences of it were well documented by the AI, as a full transcript of every thought verbalised had been noted down in fine detail. One of the more popular mutterings was about the physical state that Troy¡¯s body was in. According to the mutterings, the young man found it ''disgraceful,` ''not up to standards,` and ''a shame in comparison to what it once was.` As Adam had not long-term any long-term logs in his possession, it was impossible to fully know in what state Troy¡¯s body previously was. What the AI did know was what plans the young man had to fix this issue. Contacting Charlie about information relating to the fitness faculties, and how one would use it. To get this information, it would require a request for it. This was something Troy had not done a single time, even when the opportunity had arisen for it. Adam had noted it down as an example of poor willpower or forgetfulness and had archived the plan accordingly. To the AI, it was something which would never happen. Yet¡­ Troy was on his way to get a showcase of the gym that was regularly used. The specific fitness faculty that Troy had wanted to visit. The one which had not been asked about it in any obvious way. The one Adam had noted down as possibly never being visited by the young man. It had been pure chance that the topic of visiting the gym had come up. And Troy had not been the one to come up with it, nor had he encouraged the subject in any way. If that had been so, the AI could have taken it as an opportunity not being passed by. But, no. The chance to visit the location was given to Troy on a so-called silver platter, no effort undergone other than to accept it. What was the chance of such a scenario occurring? Adam had calculated it to be so little, that it had not been worth thinking about. Yet, it had still come to fruition. Because¡­ with enough time, nearly anything could happen, no matter how unlikely it seemed at first. Chances could increase or decrease with any new development. The AI had not noticed it, but with every step that the two humans took, those chances increased exponentially. Looking at it retroactively, the probability of the scenario turning out as it had peaked at five per cent. An unspeakable difference from what it originally was. The only difference from the under one per cent chance and the five per cent chance had been the different times they had been measured. Time was a factor which could cut all previous information. Predicting the future state of the world was impossible to do in ultimatums, for so many observations were useless long before they were even measured. It was only in the past where things were set in stone. ¡­ Or was it? While the present and future looked to be the only time-frames easily moulded, there was research pointing towards changing the past as well, if only to a small degree. It took strong gravitational pulls, an extremely old wormhole, and a massive amount of energy, but it could be pulled off, if only in theory. While there was not much when it came to successful experiments focused on the theory, that was only due to the hardships to perform such a task. That could have something to do with one of the main components for successful time-travel to be an otherwise hypothetical part of space-time. Adam put the talk of time away, for now, letting the minor threads play with the subject instead. For now, Troy and Charlie had reached a promising location which the AI felt needed the attention it deserved. Unlike the department entrances, the one before the two humans was incredibly wide, being nearly three meters across, to the greatest of the AI¡¯s approximations. This was likely to provide greater accessibility, stopping needless traffic starting from just the entrance of the place. And as the facility was of undetermined, large size it was obvious that inside only had the chance of being so much bigger. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "I''m guessing this is the place we¡¯re looking for," Troy said to Charlie, looking mildly surprised by the size of what was before him. A normal reaction from any person, as the architecture before the two was of a grander scale than much of what Troy had seen before. Though¡­ Adam was of the mind that Darlow¡¯s refurbished warehouse was larger in overall space. Maybe not space being used, but most definitely total space open. "And your guesses are most certainly correct," Charlie said, bringing his bag down to his shoulder instead of his bag. Adam had wondered about the size difference between the two human¡¯s bags. The muscular man¡¯s bag more than just dwarfed Troy¡¯s, being easily double the size of the other. It was an obvious sign of one having more equipment with them than the other. Yet the AI was not fully sure what such equipment could be. "Ready to get inside? Holy weights are yearning to be used by those such as us!" "Please don''t personify weights in such a way ever again, please?" Troy asked as they went inside. Charlie only guffawed in reply, clearly not having any intention to answer with anything worthwhile. The younger of the two luckily did not seem to mind the lack of an answer, perhaps not having expected anything, to begin with. A most curious disposition to start out with, but not one that drew away from the personality tree already drawn up for the man. As the two humans walked inside, Adam was able to observe several different entrances inside. One looked to lead directly into the fitness faculties. The obvious choice to walk inside if either of the two had been already equipped with the correct equipment. As both were still in plain-clothes, however, it would be the entrance that they would take. Other than the direct way inside, there were three other choices. One was immediately disqualified for having a card-reader attached to it, making it impossible to get in without the right key-card. While Charlie could most likely let him and Troy get inside, this was not one of the choices they had any chance of making. The other two looked to be gendered, male and female figures displayed on it. It had taken the AI a longer time than was likely intended to find which figure displayed what. Simplistic art was still beyond what Adam was able to comprehend quickly. It was only by scanning through the traditional clothing of the eighteen-hundredth that the AI had been able to make a reasonable guess on what each painting displayed. Really, who would have thought a dress only worked on a particular gender? Adam saw no reason why clothing had to be so restrictive. Pointedly trying to ignore primitive clothing norms, the AI quietly observed the two humans moving inside the changing room designated for them. After walking through a very short and curved hallway, they reached what was likely their designated changing space. It was filled with small lockers, looking to have automatic lockers on them. On the end, behind a stretch of open space were a few showerheads. They looked to have automatic sensors attached, but the AI could not be sure from the longer distance. "Large place," Troy remarked to nobody in particular. Though the only two able to hear him was Adam himself and Charlie, with the latter being the only one having any reaction to the words. "Yet also so empty," Charlie continued, in a tone that made the AI unsure if the lack of people was a good or bad thing. "It is usually much more crowded, but we are coming at a strange time. Don''t be surprised if a cleaner comes in out of nowhere. "Duly noted," Troy replied, clearly not noting it down in any form. Adam luckily did it for him. Though, the thought of those ''cleaners` appearing was an interesting thought. The AI had wondered just what these things were. Where they actually employed people, who had the sole job of cleaning the facility? It was possible, and would certainly be cheaper than many other possibilities. It could also be automatic cleaners, though. Automations that were given the sole task of holding the facility pristine. It would provide speed, even if it might cost more than human work. Also, it would be another way to stop any human error, which could lead to information being revealed. Even the most high-security laboratories had to be cleaned at some point. Adam could not truly imagine Charlie diligently cleaning his work-place. Nothing of interest occurred during the changing of clothes. With how long it took, the AI had made himself expectant of another entity entering the changing room, an unknown factor destroying the current state of balance, and creating another escalation of prowess. Yet¡­ no such thing occurred. It was partly Adam at fault for even expecting such ludicrous things from happening. The idea and awaiting of the scenario had been more of a test. An impromptu one, only made due to an opportune environment for it. The results gained from the experiment were a bit lacking, but there was not much else which could have been expected from it. The clothing was a small distraction from the failed test. It was not made of simple cloth, but of what Adam could only call semi-autonomous. The training clothes moved themselves to the movements of the bearer, making movements unrestrained no matter how tight the clothes seemed to be. While it could likely not be seen nor felt by Troy, the AI was momentarily stupified by the sensation. Moreover, Adam was mystified by the mechanics of it, as he had been unable to find anything particularly pressing in the body. It was as if no cords were present in the clothing, and the readjustment was being done by nothing electric but an advanced mechanical setting. He was not sure if it existed, but he was also not sure if it didn''t. A small task to find the truth throughout the training exercise, surely. Another mystery that was still mentally prodding Adam was the contents of Charlie¡¯s gym back. The muscular man changed outfits quickly, but had seemed to want to take his bag with him inside the actual training area. It was a different approach, in comparison to Troy who had emptied his bag of the shoes and water-bottle, and stuffed his regular clothes in the bag instead, before finally putting it inside one of the many lockers. There had to be something important inside the bag, or the man wouldn''t be carrying it around. The AI was sure he would find out soon. "Ready to get inside?" Charlie asked. "You might look ready for it, but the grandness of the place does take a lot out of many." "It can''t be that bad," Troy said, having grabbed his things. "Let''s just get inside. Can''t be wasting our time out here now, can we?" "That''s the perfect mindset, dear old pal! Let''s go!" Chapter 140: Irreflection
Adam observed as the two humans slowly moved out of the changing rooms. While stating that wasting time was out of possible choices, the two had certainly chosen to waste the AI¡¯s time, bickering as they walked. It was curious to see, both talking at a much higher pace than before. At first, there had been an assumption made, that it was the atmosphere causing this reaction. Yet after looking at vital signs, it turned out to be nervousness from Troy¡¯s side. Adam had originally thought to be mistaken on this conclusion, as the young man had previously shown much intention to request passage into the fitness lifestyle. But however little sense there was from the reaction, the AI was not able to find anything hinting to the reasoning being anything else. "Ready to cause a storm?" Charlie asked Troy as the two humans finally entered the centre of the fitness area. The size of the establishment had been as the AI had predicted, being more than a hundred meters across. Lines of the same types of machines littered much of the area, The rest was evenly divided between a section for dumbbells and a flat space filled with training mats. "That is a very outdated reference," Troy remarked, not answering the non-rhetorical question asked. Adam was unsure what this reference was, not being able to find the sentence used in any of his logs, nor was anything close to it viewable in his pre-known knowledge. Though it was used as a proverb in the last century, it was likely not the reference being discussed. The AI found a lack of information intriguing. Another branch always had permission to be added to the collection. "A reference that I am surprised that you understood," Charlie said in a curious tone. "Why oh why did you catch it?" "I am an English major. What, do you think I just read the dictionary over and over again or something?" Troy questioned, using a matter-of-fact voice. To that, Charlie looked at the younger man with an expression showing that he was growing intrigued. Not enough to put pressure on the words, but enough to have more than a regular focus on them. "What a spectacular moment of improv. Though, you should work on making the statements possible to actually be true. Even if you have nailed sounding honest, it would be best to stop deceit from being seen by just thinking about it a little," Charlie said. The muscular man gained a slightly increased respect by the AI, appreciating the feedback that was being given if it was misplaced. ''Lying by telling the truth,` was an adequate description of the situation. Having a truth so peculiar that saying it with a straight face would make it seem fake. Troy only smiled at that comment, not answering it in full. Adam had an idea for why, but only logged the moment for retrospective view. As the two walked closer to the machines, grunts of effort could be heard coming from somewhere around the two. With the space of the room providing echoes in plenty, it was hard to track down where the source of the sound came from. Without any visual aid, the AI was forced to wait for the humans to figure it out themselves. "Oi, Zep! Where the fuck are you hiding!" Charlie shouted out into the room. The grunts of effort continued a couple of seconds more before the sound of something heavy hitting the floor became noticeable. "Why the fuck are you here?" Was shouted right back, the voice being identical to that of the Zep that Adam had encountered days ago. "You''re supposed to be at work right now." From the right of Troy, emerging between the machines came Zep. Her natural height had hidden her form until she came close, the tightness of the machines providing ample cover. Like Troy and Charlie, she was adorned into fitness wear, letting the AI see the musculature present on the body. While Charlie might have ranked the highest in overall muscle-mass, Zep would be a close contender if it came to being measured proportionally. "So should you!" Charlie said right back, facing the correct direction, now that he knew where she was. "Troy and I had the politeness to show up in your laboratory unannounced, and you weren''t even there too! The gall!" "The project is being prepared automatically right now. I had Gordon look over the¡­ Charlie, you didn''t fuck with the guy, right? I already owe him one for doing this, and if you put your fat into that guy''s face again, I will be forced to owe him a big one instead." In response, Charlie had the decency to look sheepish at the accusation. The AI felt more consequences were necessary, as the only thing that had come out of it was Zep sighing loudly before muttering wasteful elimination methods. There really was no reason to use squids in such a fashion. "Are you the only one in here?" Troy asked unprompted, causing at least mild surprise of his continued existence. Was it the quietness that made the young man fade into the background, or was it something else? If it was something else, Adam felt the need to make use of it to its fullest extent. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Ah, yeah, of course, I am," Zep answered, after blinking at Troy for a second or two. "People are usually working at this time of day. Or sleeping. And why are you not doing either of those two things? Charlie, I can understand. He physically can''t keep to a work schedule if his life depended on it. But you¡­ you''re working with Dr Hale. I cannot see any way where you are allowed to leave work early. Charlie cleared his throat, ready to make another of his repeated explanations. Yet, by a mix of glaring and a quick punch to the kidney, the muscular man was forced down onto his knees, momentarily incapable of anything other than hard wheezing. This left Troy in the situation of having to explain himself, instead of being dependable on others'' help. Adam nearly felt bad with the situation before him. Under the correct amount of pressure, the young man could crumble more quickly than cardboard, folding into something incomprehensible. While the chance was low, having the man implode now would be unhelpful to the goal of gathering information. Though¡­ the AI was sure he would endure. Changing the conditions of ongoing tests was a federal crime after all. "You''re not too right on the target. Dr Hale is the one letting me get off at regular times. Without her, I would be stuffed with pills so I could work all day long," Troy said. A defensive approach, without any animosity, attached. While not the greatest choice, it was not the worst either. Still below average though. "And I wasn''t let off early today. I am having a day off. And yes-" "Bullshit," Zep instantly refuted, not seeming to believe it for a second. "Listen here. It''s probably just an error on the schedule. Happens for the first five years you''re employed. Bit rare, but it happens to everybody. It would be best if you ran to your work-place now, and hope that your boss isn''t going to tear you one more than necessary. You get what I''m saying?" "Actually, darling-" Charlie began but was hit with another hit. Instinctively, the muscular man had defended his kidney, wisely thinking for a repeat placement. Zep had seen it coming and had hit him in the solar plexus instead. "I have a work schedule?" Troy asked incredulously, looking to do his best in ignoring the semi-fight occurring in his vicinity. Adam was happy that he continued watching, even if it was only in quick glances. "Of course you have a work schedule. What, you think we just work from morning until late into the... " Zep began to question but stopped upon the slowly falling face of Troy¡¯s. "How long are your workdays exactly?" "I don''t really know. From morning till the afternoon?" Troy said, clearly trying to switch the topic away, likely embarrassed. Adam thought he should have no shame in his long hours. More time invested equalled more results, after all. "And it wasn''t a mistake on the work schedule. My boss just told me not to come into work today. He is just doing stuff today that doesn''t require my help at all, so I guess he doesn''t see the need in paying me today." The words were ended with a mild shrug, but the reaction gotten from Zep was not one that said much in the direction the AI had been predicting. It looked¡­ confused. "That is pretty weird. Getting a day off unannounced has to be planned long before, so it can get through the right channels," Zep said mostly to herself. "Troy, is the project you''re working on heavily planned? That could explain it." "Uh¡­ no, not really. The tests have already been planned beforehand, but the day to day stuff has been changed a couple of times now," Troy honestly answered, which caused even more confusion to appear on Zep¡¯s facial features. "Huh. Either you''re getting paid for your job that you are told not to do or your boss is high enough clearance to have direct control over your schedule," Zep surmised after a second of thinking, before looking back at Charlie, who had been slowly regaining his composure. While the hits had not looked to have been too hard or precise, the man seemed to have found it funny to overreact. The AI guessed it was done to allow the other two to have a conversation without the witty comments. A thoughtful gesture, but also one that could have been done much more efficiently. Charlie took a few steps back, well out of the range of Zep¡¯s hits, before clearing his throat loudly. An unneeded action to do, seeing as none had been talking at the time and that he had gotten the attention of the two others the moment his back had been raised back in place. "Can I talk now?" Charlie asked, looking ready to walk back even further if he noticed any weird movement. "You could always talk," Zep dutifully informed the muscular and slightly scared man. "You just didn''t accept that words have consequences too." "I don''t think that is the correct interpretation. Isn''t it about-" Charlie tried to correct, but stopped upon the sound of knuckles cracking. "Could you stop doing that? You know I hate that sound." "It''s called keeping the body moving," Zep answered. "And I don''t think you really did answer my question from before. Why are you two here?" "Well... " Charlie said, taking the chance to finally talk for long periods of time. Through elongated observing of the man¡¯s mannerisms, talking for long periods of the time looked to be one of Charlie¡¯s favourite activities. It was either that or he just enjoyed the look that was given by the overweening flaunting. With what else the AI knew about him, it could reasonably be both. "Being the perfect example of goodness, I am giving Troy something to do on this day. Right now, we are going around harras- I mean, visiting those in the group. We have had perfect scores with the others, I was hoping to complete the set with visiting yours as well. But¡­ Gordon was so kind to inform me that you were taking the rest of the day off. Others would have stopped at this point, seeing it as fate that you were not there to explain. Maybe I could have even made Gordon do it in your place if such desperateness really did exist in this soul of mine. But, alas. I could not stop myself from completing the puzzle, by laying the last brick. So¡­ we are visiting you in your natural habitat. Namely, the gym. A perfect place for Troy to learn, while also getting something positive out of it. A physically destroyed body which will only get better over time. What do you say, Zep? Want to mentally drain a person, while showing them just how much they love it?" As the man stopped speaking, Adam was unsure of how to react to it. There was a pitch inside there, only truly showing itself by the end. A compliment started it off, but could the same be said to the rest? The AI was not sure that it could be taken as anything positive. If he had been put into the situation, he would have refused outright purely due to bad pitching. Yet¡­ such thoughts seemed limited to the artificial mind, with both others having widely different reactions to it. Troy looked on in horror, his eyelids turned as far up as they could. Being mentioned as becoming mentally and physically drained was likely not something that the young man had expected. Though, such a reaction was very likely to have been the reaction from Zep, who had glanced at Troy before stating her answer. She looked absolutely happy with the idea. "Let me do my last abs set, and I am good to go," Zep answered, looking to have been reinvigorated in her movements. Any dose of adrenaline perhaps? Adam was not in a contest of the ongoing environment. With the grin Charlie was giving Troy, it was obvious the older man was hoping to hold up his promise. The AI had not gotten much first-hand experience at muscles tired by extreme use, so it was looking better and better for him. The same couldn''t have been said for Troy, though. Not in the slightest. Chapter 141: Jurisdiction
''Feeling the burn,` was a proverb that the AI had struggled to understand for the longest of times. Used throughout the world to explain the feeling of tired muscles. It was the feeling of over-using muscle groups to an extent that they have not adapted to. The AI fully understood the context behind the feeling. He knew how the process in it worked, why the brain processed it in such a way, and what happened in the hours after the initial sensational blast. In every form other than feeling the actual feeling, Adam knew nearly all that there was to know about it. Yet he had not truly trusted this information. ''Feeling the burn,` hinted at a burning feeling. Hotness, normally described as being in an intensely hot climate or being blasted dry by the sun itself. Not directly painful but most definitely unignorable. Warmth to the level where it should hurt, but being nothing more than noticeable. Adam had not been able to comprehend the description fully, otherwise, he would not have been asking himself these questions. Was he the one misunderstanding information or was it a trait only the human mind could fully comprehend? The AI believed itself to have felt everything that Troy felt, down to the most minor of details. But¡­ how did he know that they were feeling the same thing? Could the sensations that he related to specific stimuli be the same as the one Troy had? It was like the colour principle that the people of old had so readily discussed. Almost every person knew of the colour red. They knew how it looked. When asked to pick the colour out from a synthetic rainbow, there would be no problems with it. But did that mean that every person saw the same colour? One person''s red could be another''s green, yet both would call the colours the same thing, for that was what they had been taught as children. Neither would suffer problems, but neither could truly know if they were seeing the same thing. If it had not been disproven long ago, Adam would have pointed to this as to why fashion was so constantly changing. The point was that if the sensations were different, there was no reason for them to synergize as they had with humans. The AI was an artificial construct, built upon the technology that had little to no relation to the human mind. Expecting the same things to be felt in the exact same way was illogical if not outright unprofessional. With the information he had been supplied with, there was much about the so-called burn that was felt during intensive workouts. Though the precise placement of when this feeling would spread out was not stated anywhere, Adam was relatively sure that it should have been felt by then. This was not due to the sore state that Troy had been in for fifty minutes at that point, being driven to his utmost. It had been due to a simple question that had been asked throughout the ordeal until the current point. "Are you feeling the burn, my little torture victim?" Charlie would ask every ten minutes on the clock. There would be a warm smile accompanying it each time. With the metallic surfaces around the fitness room, Adam had been able to see the older man''s face constantly. "Not yet," had been the customary answer by Troy. The AI had not been able to understand why the younger man would answer as such. There was no point to it. Before the training had started in earnest, while Zep was still completing the last of her ab work-out, Charlie had given Troy the run-down of what he would be doing. It was not the most complete of run-downs, being mostly focused on the cries of pain which would be heard to anybody near, but it had been mentioned that the first part would be a warm-up of sorts. Letting the body get ready for intensive performance-based training was a must. Without formal preparation, the risk of injury increased both in the short- and long term. That Charlie had instructed such warm-ups to be the first step into a better lifestyle was fully supported by the AI, not that such information had been shared. Adam himself knew about his agreement to the statement was enough to satisfy him. It was here that the first clue-in to what ''feeling the burn` had the potential to mean. As Charlie had asked if Troy felt the aforementioned burn during the latter¡¯s warm-up, was it not logical to assume that being warmed up meant that one was feeling the burn? As Troy had normally answered in the negative to this question, Adam had assumed that the burning sensation that was so popular had simply not been felt yet, due to the body not yet being warmed up by a justifiable amount. That excuse had quickly been removed from the realm of potentials however when Troy had decided to change his answer. There was no reason to be angry at the man for doing so, nevertheless, as it was Charlie who had started it. "It''s been an hour now, Troy. Are you feeling warmed up yet?" Charlie asked, looking quite amused at the persistence. "As I can still stand without shaking feet, I don''t so, no," Troy answered, going back down on his stomach to continue the bodyweight exercises. As the eyes were firmly planted to the floor, so as to prevent unnecessary damage to the neck, Adam was only able to observe the slight repositioning of Charlie¡¯s feet. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "You do realise this is only the warm-up, right? If you fall while on your feet now, we¡¯ll only be able to do upper body exercises," Zep said from the back. The woman had continued training, not wanting to spend time in the gym staring at other people training. A mindset that Adam could certainly get behind, not seeing the point why Charlie was not imitating her. Troy was acquainted with the body-exercises being used, and such training-methods provided much more safety than training with weights or machines. While the two other people in the room might not have been able to see Troy¡¯s facial expressions, this did not stop Adam from understanding them in full. While the AI was unsure of what specific reasons had caused it, the young man had severely misunderstood what he was supposed to be doing. "Could you say that first part again, Zep? I think my ears are being clogged by my sweat or something," Troy asked, simultaneously trying to find an excuse for his poor mental judgement an hour earlier. Such actions showed another trait that humans had trained themselves to do perfectly, to such an extent that there would be near to no chance of failing. This action was commonly known as fooling themselves into thinking that it wasn''t them who messed up. "This is the bloody warm-up, you deaf punk!" Zep shouted right back in response, causing Troy to temporarily loosen his neck so he could look even closer to the ground. The only real countermeasure to the trait of not blaming oneself for actions performed by oneself is to to be told off by another. While such actions may have to be taken to the extreme to take effect, it was only in rare cases that any other cures had been found. Shifting the blame was a problem that would always follow the human population, no matter how much they wanted to deny it. "Troy¡­ " Charlie said from the side. Not being able to see the man still, the AI was unsure if the grin had grown wider or not. Yet from the tone, it was obvious that a change had occurred. "Are you warmed up? Feeling the blood boiling yet? Maybe I should ask in another commonly used way to ask the same question. Are you feeling the burn yet?" If not for the physical impossibility of it, Adam would have described Troy''s face as in having an immediate loss of blood. Then again¡­ impossible things were only deemed as such, due to no person yet having figured out a person to do it. Magic was only magic as long as it went unexplained. "I do believe I am, actually," Troy timidly answered, getting up from the lying position. The legs shook slightly, but Adam doubted that it was due to any muscle stress. While there was some heaviness felt, it was not near enough to cause any problems yet. "All limbed up, and ready to do actual training?" Charlie questioned, digging deeper into the psyche. "Ye-yes!" Troy answered, the back standing a bit more upright than usual. The AI appreciated the gesture, even if it was not intended for him. Proper blood flow let the body move more effectively, which further equalled better results for him at the end. "Was everything before this not-" "No," Charlie stated, not letting Troy finish his question. "Nothing you have done in the last hour is anything we have scheduled for today. You can just note it down in your little calendar as¡­ extra work? Yeah, that should be vague enough for you not to get too many nightmares." Stating that it should not cause too many nightmares was nightmare material in of itself. But, that was likely Charlie¡¯s intention, and it was working perfectly. The fight or flight instinct was visibly being impacted into Troy¡¯s body, shoving adrenaline down his throat. It was an outdated method, causing fear instead of anger, but the performance increment increases coming from it was nothing strut at. "Now!" Charlie said, clapping his hands together loudly once. The sound made Troy twitch, the heart-rate increasing for a moment. "Are you ready to start, my dear friend?" "Haven''t we started already?" Troy asked, clearly trying to delay for time. That couldn''t do, and it was not only the AI that had these thoughts. "Warm-ups don''t count! I just said that" Charlie instantly refuted. "And for such a dumb question, I am answering for you. And your answer is a big fat yes, with doughnut sprinkles on top!" Charlie gave Troy a good slap on the shoulder, before moving forward with the younger one in tow. Meanwhile, this was going on, the AI was working on a more important conundrum, one that was causing much frustration. It was the problem that he had been working on for over an hour now and was still not fully understanding. ''Feeling the burn.` Such a simple phrase of words, being nothing more than a common dent in the human knowledge bank. Many had heard it before, and many had not felt the burn themselves. Yet upon the first feeling of it, they could pinpoint exactly what it felt like, and be able to say it the next time as well. The pre-known knowledge had not stated an exact stage, where this feeling would become obvious, where every person could distinctly feel that exact feeling from their bodies. This could be slapped with the excuse of all people being different, their bodies may look identical but each had an original part to them. Mutations always appearred, changing the body¡¯s response to many things. Putting a timer on certain reactions with all humans would be near impossible when it was constructed to such a tight concept. But the AI had different ideas of what the reason could be. A reason that would not cause many questions to appear, nor would it be radical in its framework. A balanced concept, which Adam had thought of after many tries rethinking the problem over and over again. What if it wasn''t the same thing being felt? The human mind was great at many things. Not all of them were positive. Making itself believe a falsehood out of sheer will was not out of its repertoire. With no real idea of what the feeling should be like, only having heard of the so-called burning sensation, would there not be many things which could be associated with it? Burning out of energy, not having any strength to go on, would be a reasonable assumption of the feeling. Completely sore muscles could be another, in the case of Troy. And It could be a hundred other things, just as possible as the last. For that was the great thing about feelings. It was all subjective. "Do you want your back destroyed first, or should we start with the chest?" Charlie innocently asked. "Please kill me now," Troy requested, sounding more dead than a rotten fish. "Where would the fun be in that?" Charlie stated, not expecting an answer. "Oh, look at that! A stress-modulated lifting bench. With this one, it will automatically but your muscles at the optimal stress-point without doing any long-term damage. I don''t use it because it''s really tiring, but I am sure you will find great pleasure with it!" However much feeling may have been in the beholder, Adam found some strange amusement in seeing Troy struggle around. Further investigation was needed. Chapter 142: Labanotation
"How are those arms feeling?" "What do you think they feel like?" Troy fired back, not mentally prepared to be truthful. His arms were weak, weaker than they had been for a long time. If the choice was up to him, movement in them would have stopped. Troy would have sat down on the ground, and relaxed quietly as energy would flow back in where it was supposed to be. How great it would have been for that choice to be possible. Already, those hopeless dreams were hopping up in his mind, likely to never be fulfilled. The devil incarnate standing beside the young man would never allow such a thing as a worthwhile rest. "Oh, do we still have the energy for sarcasm?" Charlie said in mild shock, going so far as to put a hand to his chest. "I must not have helped you along enough! Quick, stop your break. We are going over to hammer curls now." Troy did not like it. He hated it. Why had he ever said yes to this? How could any person be so stupid? Or, was he the only one here? Charlie had outright laughed at the young man¡¯s horrified expressions multiple times. And while Zep had tried to keep her expression stoic, Troy had seen those lips turn upwards too many times to count. Self-control was clearly not in everybody''s repertoire, no matter how much they dearly needed it. ''You are not moving efficiently. Further use of a relaxed back can cause severe injury and need for more repetitions,` Adam sent in advice. The only reason Troy listened at that point was due to the mention of more training. How long had they been at it? With a full hour dedicated to getting the body up and going, it had been a long time. Troy¡¯s body had been the true test from all points of attack. Hyper-specific movements dedicated to extremely minor muscles mixed in with regular training exercises had caused a long time taken. Two hours since they started, at the minimum. Maybe three¡­ It was better not to know. There was no need to get depressed after all. Tightening the muscles in his back, Troy did his best in standing perfectly. His arms moved in sync, the weights being held as exact as they could possibly be. It was hard, the weights being at the limit of what the young man could possibly lift. Putting that in with all the exercises done before, it was becoming obvious that it would soon fall together. His physical limit was coming closer, and there was not anything that could be done about it. Whenever the limit was coming close, Charlie would put Troy over to focusing on another muscle-group. Instead of leg exercises, he would be allowed to relax with the chest exercises. A brief time of relaxation, before the new muscles would realise what they were supposed to be feeling. And that feeling was usually tiredness. "Why are we even the whole body?" Troy got out between the repetitions, being mindful not to hold his breath. "Is that not¡­ bad?" "Less talking, more lifting. Full focus is needed on the body, or you will begin making unfixable mistakes," Charlie ordered, sounding perfectly like the tyrant that he was. At some point, the muscular man had found a two-kilo dumbbell. In the last half hour, he had tried fruitlessly to make it spin on his left ring finger. Or Troy would have liked to call it fruitless when in actuality the man was making clear progress in the endeavour. "But, if you must know, this is more of an introduction to your muscles. If we¡¯re doing this correctly, your body should be soon experiencing extreme metabolic fatigue. A literal pancake will have greater chances of walking than you if we are to keep up this training. And don''t take that as an excuse to slack off now!" As Charlie had gone more and more into his lecturing tone, Troy had likewise to his normal listening form, staying still and nodding at random times. Not the greatest instinct to have when one was scolded for even slowing down in the training. With a quick rep, Charlie was seemingly satisfied by Troy¡¯s red struggling face. "That is what would happen normally, if not for the perfectly formed help of yours truly," Charlie said, continuing his earlier speech. "With my prestigious position at the augmentation department-" "You mean my prestigious position in the augmentation department, right?" Zep shouted from the side. Troy could hear her getting up from whatever torture device she had settled on previously, and moving over towards them. "Because anything that your soddy ass makes is not something you can give the little guy. Because, you know, it is extremely illegal to even think about doing dumb shit like that." That did make sense to Troy, who unconscious nodded at the shouting. Such a reaction caused an unexpected glare of betrayal from Charlie, who was looking more comically hurt than anything. "I have a higher rank than you, so I could just formally request your assistance so that you are required to do it!" Charlie said back, clearly already losing face. If not for the very stressing position that Troy was in, he might even have spared a bark of laughter to it. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "This isn''t work-related, idiot," Zep instantly refuted. "You can''t order shit from me. I am the benevolent one here, bestowing a gift from a good place." "More like the bad place," Charlie muttered in response, still very clearly being heard. That was the negative thing about open empty places. The sound could just travel so easily into the wrong person¡¯s ear." "I could always just refrain from giving you any of it," Zep mused aloud. "It would spare me the paperwork, and stop a certain person from being a French prick." Troy had never seen somebody drop to their knees so quickly before. In a move much like taking off from the air itself, Charlie had seemingly known what was coming, before it even happened. Going down onto his knees before Zep, the only thing Troy was able to see was the whimsical bowing done. Though¡­ with the muscular man preoccupied, nobody would blame anybody, if a certain person was to take a small- ''Keep training. Progress is not made by frequent stops.` ¡­ Of course. Troy would just go on with the training, kept on his toes by an entity none could see, and only he could hear. Perfect. Just dandy. No complaints to be had, other than how completely unfair sometimes was. "Oh, mighty being. Please, spare this foolish one for his foolish words," Charlie said in a chanting rhythm. Zep looked on, clearly unamused with her lips pursed. "I am but an idiotic existence, riddled with errors. Could one so superior as you spare a-" "I will if you stop talking so creepily," Zep said, with a smack to Charlie¡¯s head to end the man''s talk. "You can reserve that stuff for Darlow. I would rather not be a part of it." "Perfect!" Charlie announced, instantly reverting back to an earlier tone. The smile on his face continued, even as he watched Troy not keeping up with the regimen. The muscular man was even a bit surprised that the younger one had kept up for so long. While there might not have been any notable core strength, the natural resilience was something to remember. If Troy had the slightest of desire to reach new heights, Charlie did not doubt that he could reach them. However, if there was one thing to always remember, more work did not always mean better results. While that lesson was best learned naturally, there was no need to do it in a time-sensitive environment. "Do lay down those weights now, Troy. We have more fun things to get around to. Namely, watching you struggle with not vomiting violently!" If not for a strict upbringing, Troy would have dropped the dumbells, the force on his fingers finally showing their toll. Instead, he did the noble thing, and simply let go of his body. Seeing Charlie¡¯s bemused face as he himself face-planted onto the ground was something Troy would remember for many years to come, for the pain after that moment was anything but mild. "Feeling dandy down there?" Zep said, sounding mildly concerned. A reasonable thing to do, when seeing somebody fall to the ground limply. Troy was feeling a bit miffed that Charlie had reacted in his usual manner of laughing. "Just dandy," Troy confirmed, trying to ignore the gravitational slap that he had just felt. His training to not cry after being slapped had prepared him for this moment! Except for a red face, not a hint of pain was shown on his facial features. Nearly made him proud in fact, if not for the underlying problems with feeling proud of such an action. With a shaky body that was finally allowing itself to feel the toll put upon it, Troy got up on his feet. Having the knees slightly bent, there was a reasonable chance that he would be able to keep the body balanced. "You''re not looking that dandy to me," Zep said, smoothly getting under Troy¡¯s shoulder, and helping to keep him upright. "Charlie, could you be a decent person, and take over my position here? Have to grab my back real quick." Having gotten himself together, the muscular man deftly replaced the woman, holding Troy firmly by the shoulder. Once the hold was tight enough that Zep felt no need to worry about the younger one falling, she swiftly moved to get her prepared concoctions. "You really are something, aren''t you Troy?" Charlie said, poking the younger man in the side with one of his fingers. "Able to keep up easily until the moment where you are let go." "That''s what happens without proper rest," Troy replied, feeling the drums of revolution. His inner organs were taking control, not believing the brain to be fit for command. That rank would soon go the left lung, for it had more practical experience in controlling the show. Not the right lung though. That one already had committed several felonies. ¡­ Troy was seemingly not up for proper thought. "Well, without proper rest you wouldn''t have reached the needed point," Charlie answered, not sounding sorry at all for his actions. "Your body needs to acclimate to this lifestyle or it will hamper you for months to come. Getting it all over in a few hours is much better than what else could be forced to. In just a moment, you will be feeling all that much better, ready to train another day." "Why does that not sound like a good thing?" Troy asked, not really expecting anything good as an answer. Charlie only laughed to his mumbling tongue, not even taking the time to say anything stupid. In but a few minutes, Zep came back with her bag in hand. It was not near the size of the one Charlie had brought with him, but it was still larger than the one Troy had. A pattern was emerging, and he was not sure what to feel about it. "I was hoping to have this as an after-training gym, but I guess some people need it more than me," Zep said. Pulling her hand out of her bag, a small flask was within her hold. Not more than a few centilitres could have been within it, yet it was obvious that Zep put caution into holding it. "What is it?" Troy asked as the concoction was handed to him. "The whiskey version of an energy-drink maybe?" "If only it was that simple," Zep said with a shake of her head. "You are currently holding one of the many state secrets that this beautiful country of ours has to offer. It doesn''t really have any official name yet, so you can call it whatever you like." With such a worthless answer, the only thing Troy could do was shrug. Popping the flask open, he downed it in one fell swoop. It was great that he had, lest the violent coughing after the fact would have stopped him from downing it at all. "Terrible taste, if I''m not mistaken," Charlie said reminiscently. "Just makes me happy that I''m not the one drinking the stuff." "Oi, shut up. You''re jealous and you know it!" Zep said accusingly. Charlie laughed yet again before the figurative lightbulb on top of the man''s head lit up. "That reminds me," Charlie exclaimed. "Would you like to join in on my little surprise?" Chapter 143: Layerization
Taking unnamed drugs from people Troy really didn''t know that well was now one of the best decisions ever made in the name of humanity. In all of ten seconds, he had gone from being shaky on his feet to feeling like he could do windmills indefinitely. The young and energetic man had tried to do such tricks a few years earlier, where he failed spectacularly, but that did not matter now. He was feeling perfect, and there wasn''t anything stopping him from it. ''Troy, there is a chance that you are experiencing mind-altering side-effects. You might understand this as feeling high. Are you currently nauseous? The sensory input that I am getting is muddled,` a concerned voice said in Troy¡¯s head, causing more than a slight bit of confusion. He could not remember any emotion-filled voices that occupied his mind. And that was bad because that meant somebody was in there rent-free! "I am not high," Troy insisted vocally, much to the surprise of the two others beside him. This did cause eye-contact to be made before a mild round of sniggers went through the air. "I''m feeling fine!" "Sure you are, Troy," Charlie said encouragingly, helping the poor bastard down to a sitting position. He helped the younger one into a sitting position, letting him rest his back against one of the machines. As long as nobody would be slipping to the sides, no head injuries should happen. But, just in care, he did put Zep¡¯s bag over some of the nearer metal points. Waving a hand in front of Troy¡¯s undilated eyes, an slightly annoying truth was beginning to jump out of the grave. One that Charlie should have thought of before he went and dosed Dr Hale¡¯s underling with regulated substances. When it came to things like what Troy just downed, the dosage was the most important thing to think of. It changed from person to person, bodyweight-only having a minor effect on the amount. And even if it didn''t, the younger man already weighed more than Zep. "He¡¯s off his balls right now," Zep said, clearly trying to keep her laughter inside. The two of them had knowingly drugged up one of their co-workers. It was not the first time they had done such things, but this time might just be the two¡¯s last. It had been for a good cause, but there just was something about the act that screamed unlawful conduct. "Might not have the resistance that I was hoping for." "He is about as close to sleep as he will ever be, Zep. No need to be so formal about it," Charlie said. "And have your resistance grown as of late? I can''t remember it being so quick, last time we did this." "Yeah, I kinda had to," Zep answered, not sounding happy about the situation herself. "The more you drink the stuff, the more the body doesn''t want to accept it. If it didn''t give so good gains, I would have gone off it already." "It isn''t good for you, Zep. It''s meant as a temporary enhancement only. You made this stuff yourself. You know what-" Charlie began as he always did when the chance of it came up. After all, he had been one of the few that had seen the fifth stage with his own eyes. The skin is torn, the eyes bloodied, the lips forced into a purple colouring, and the nails¡­ It had been a gruesome time when they had been tasked with seeing the long-term effects. The drug had been accepted for military use, but nobody that had worked on it ever hoped it would actually be used. Better for it to be locked in a box that was never opened. Zep had said something like that not a year ago, yet she was not stopping with the intake of the thing that she loathed. Charlie did not want to say that he understood why, but there had to be some other way to process it all. Some healthier way that would not end up with more suffering for all to experience. Such has been told many times. Each had been refused, and the current one would likely end with the same result. That did not mean he would stop. With each refusal, it only became so much more vital to ask. By the thousandth attempt, he was sure she would fumble her words and accidentally say yes. By then, using the point of pride would allow him to manoeuvre her to new goals, ones that would end in something positive. "I know precisely what will happen, and I know precisely when it will start happening. With that information, I can stop before anything happens. I know what I am doing, no matter what you have to say," Zep said, not letting Charlie finish his pleas. Her tone was challenging but grew softer once she stole a glance at Troy. The two still had things to talk about. While the younger one would sleep for the next ten minutes easily, it was better not to tempt fate. "You said something about a surprise before our third wheel decided to fall over himself. Anything to add to that?" It was a badly done switch of topic. Both of them knew it, and neither mentioned it at all. Charlie did exhale for but a moment, not having success yet again, but it was moved away swiftly enough. It would do no good to put pressure on the wounds when it was done with a knife. The more pressure was put, the more it would bleed, even if it was done with positive ideas behind it. "The one who sleeps in a slumber deeper than ever before is done with his first week in this fine facility," Charlie said nodding towards the slumbering Troy. The older man¡¯s placement of the bag had been well-thought, as the younger one had sleepily begun using it as a pillow. The sight brought a rare smile filled with warmth. It even reached his eyes. "I thought it would be fun to throw a little party for him. More of a gathering of our group really. Thought it would be a fun thing for everybody to enjoy." A dream that they had always wished for, but knew they would never get. Their futures were sealed, no matter how much enthusiasm had been put into the plan. Charlie had tried to do it to his heart''s content, but it had only been done for Darlow¡¯s sake in the end. At least he could hold unto an unachievable dream. Charlie wished he could do the same. Instead, he had what he had, knowing he would likely never get anything more. "And the real reason?" Zep inquired. She had been good friends with the man for years. No matter how much he hid it, she could see more about him than either was comfortable with. While she could not hide her own emotions, neither could others hide it from her. Many things had been seen by others. It was surprising at first, how sad most of the people in this damned place could be. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Charlie could not be surprised by the question. Neither was he surprised by how hard it was to say the truth. Going behind the layers, showing his real side with the full intention of saying it all. It was not many people it could be done with. Zep was the first to force it out of him, and he could never say how grateful he was for it. Her actions had been the catalyst for many things in his life. It was only through the friendship they had that the older man could ever hope to repay her. And the occasional favour every now and then. "You are employed in the same place as me, Zep," Charlie answered, not able to say it bluntly. "Even if you try to distance yourself from it, you must have heard something from the branches." "I had been hoping it was false rumours, honestly," Zep stated, her eyes looking sad for a moment. "Did she really fall over at breakfast?" "Yeah, she did," Charlie confirmed, not too happy to talk about Dr Hale in such a fashion. Speaking of other failures as just another distraction. It was sickening to do, but so many people just loved doing it. Stating his opinions of it would only bring him to the front of the queue. "That poor thing. At least, with that rumour confirmed, there should be no reason for the others to be false. When do you think she will wake up?" Zep said, more in encouragement to Charlie than herself. She spoke little with the woman, the two not sharing views on many fronts. The reaction when Dr Hale had learned of the bloody things¡­ it had not been pretty for anybody. Having it happen while drunk had not been any better. Though, Zep did sometimes feel bad, letting the other take the blame for the whole thing. Did she even have any places she was allowed to be anymore? "She is already awake," Charlie corrected. "Didn''t want to go under at any moment, not wanting to take any chances. I warned her it would be painful, but she did not give a single fuck about anything at that point." "That goes without saying," Zep said, a grin coming over her features at that. Both had stories of the woman, some more humorous than others. A moment was given to snigger at them before they went right back. "Am I to believe that she is the reason for this whole thing?" "That would be wise of you," Charlie confirmed, happy to not be forced to spell it out. He wasn''t sure that he would have been able to. When it came to times like these, not acting everything was what he needed. Forcing himself was not something he was obligated to do. Zep wouldn''t mind either way. He would be called a prick no matter what he did. That was one of the many things he liked about the woman. That, and her ability to listen when it was needed. "Troy has grown attached to her as of late. Not- stop I know that look on your face. It is not in the way you''re thinking!" "Are you sure?" Zep questioned, not being able to take Charlie¡¯s words too seriously. When relaxed, that man had the need to be told about phrasing so dang much. It was unbelievable. Well, it was a positive thing that so little thought was put in. It allowed the man to speak from something other than that calculating part, being just a bit more honest than he thought he was being. "I have seen those eyes he has. The eyes wander, Charlie! That little guy has some good taste." "Oh, just trust me on this," Charlie said, trying to remove that picture from his mind. While it had been used as ammunition a few days prior, he had never considered it. Especially when he knew that the relationship they had going on was anything but in that direction. "It is not what you are thinking at all. Might even be in the opposite path." Honestly, Dr Hale was acting worried half the time about Troy and absolutely hating him in the next. It was not one of fondness but of protection. She was trying to protect him from the outside, no matter how little she wanted to admit that. With her being unable to do it, Charlie might have gone a bit deep into his own instincts, but such was friendship. Holding each other up by their faults was something everybody needed to do. And it wasn''t like he minded getting into that role. It was practice for a reality that would never come. Indulging in dreams not his own, doing it for the sake of many others. Charlie needed a prize for that at some point. If he would ever tell it to another soul, that was. "That''s a shame. It would have been a story I would have loved to see develop," Zep said, deciding that she had had enough fun on that point. "So, it''s just a relationship built on caring for each other? And, yes, not that kind. You don''t have to look at me like that. I''m talking about the one where neither wants to admit it, but- I said wipe that face off yourself this very moment." In what seemed like a single second, the two had switched their roles. Zep had tried to get serious and had likewise begun saying the right things in the very wrong ways. Charlie could not help but find it funny, having an even harder struggle not to crumble into a wall of laughter. That was saved for when the layers needed to go back up. "Yeah, yeah, I wiped it off," Charlie said, wiping away a tear he had only imagined. At least it felt real. "And you''re right, even with that bad phrasing of yours. With how¡­ bad Mara has been as of late, it is natural for him to worry about her. He even asked me this morning if he could see her. Right now, I don''t think it will be good for anybody if he sees the state that she is in. No matter how much Troy wants to, I have to delay until later. Then, Mara will be looked at better. It''s what this whole thing is for, really. I intend to delay his departure all day long. If I do it, the visit will be brief, and he will notice nothing." Zep saw Charlie slowly go into one of his long speeches. It had been annoying to hear them in the start, but she knew why he did them nowadays. It was good to be prepared when one was stressed about something. Whenever her friend was stressed, he would prepare an old fashioned speech. The content of them was not always relevant, but that didn''t really matter. As long as they helped him in some way, she would not mind hearing about the evolutionary patterns of crabs. "It''s good to see that you''re being honest now," Zep commented encouragingly. "I''m in." "Oh, thank providence," Charlie said, releasing tension from his shoulders that he had not realised had been accumulating together. "I was worried you would say no." "I would have yes, even if you had lied," Zep said, deciding to return the honesty. "I''m guessing that I have to plan the whole thing?" "I''m afraid so," Charlie said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Esme said she could do it if needed, but you are the one who knows how to get the good tables." "That is what I am good at," Zep confirmed, not too happy that that was the reputation she was getting in the group. She had been going for the violent caretaker. "Then, are we doing our normal routine. As we played poker last time, it should be¡­ blackjack, I think?" "Yeah, about that," Charlie said, stopping Zep before she could go too deep into planning-mode. "Would you mind if we¡­ didn''t do any gambling for the night?" "Any way I could know why?" "I''m afraid not. It''s personal," was the answer she got. Zep noted the lack of who it was personal for. But¡­ with the face being shown, it would be best not to ask into it. Everybody had secrets, and it was not even half of them that needed to be brought into the open. "Understandable. As the last order of business, what should today''s excuse be?" "Well¡­ I had a few ideas. Have you done your deadlifts yet?" Chapter 144: Maloperation
''Are you awake yet?` Adam sent Troy for the fifteenth time that day. The AI had been sending that message, again and again, waiting five minutes each time. It was already obvious that the young man wasn''t asleep. Yet he was not awake either. There were sensations still sent, and those were not among the dream-senses. The difference between those two forms was as obvious as light and dark. No, what Troy was currently in was a fine balance between the two states of being. From the pulses felt, the muscles were not being used. However, they were being repaired at a tremendous speed. A speed that could be called inhumane. It was obvious that the young man had been drugged. That had been the immediate conclusion made by Adam. Drinking and beverage of unknown make and then falling over thirty seconds later. Either something had gone horribly wrong with the concoction, or something fouler was at play. From the brief tidbits of the ears working correctly, it was obvious that it was more of a mix. The worst thing about the whole ordeal had been that they had made their intentions plain in the air. From the talk about resistance being built up to the drug, it was obvious that the effect would be more of tissue-regeneration. The AI categorized it as a unique form of relaxants, not sure how the main effects came around. From the brief moments of Troy¡¯s body cooperating fully, it was obvious that the concoction had performed as promised. It removed all of the muscle-fatigue, making them grow rapidly in the process. Adam estimated it to be two full weeks of training. By the next training-session, the man would be able to grow muscle mass immediately. The body had been prepared perfectly, ready to take in any damage without any delayed set-backs. It was all looking perfect, and that made it all the worse. The AI could see no problems with the drug. Troy¡¯s body was working better than it ever had before. The heart was beating strongly, the lungs filling fully. Even the tired back had been replaced with one filled with vigour. If the concoction was so perfect, it would have been brought up before. It would have shown itself in the lives of those who had a higher clearance. The benefits were almost indescribable as de-ageing. Years of poor dieting had been removed in a single hour. Just thinking about what repeated doses could do was baffling. Again. It was the first time it had been seen. There was a negative effect on it all. The body turns more and more perfect with each dosage¡­ there had to be something bad about it. The negatives of perfection. It was not a concept Adam had thought much about, but it was clear that the consideration of it had to occur. If not, he wasn''t likely to find the truth. One had to change to see the real world. Adam quickly checked how long a time had gone by since the last message. His internal clock showed it to be four minutes and thirty-four seconds. Twenty-six more seconds before he could send another message. ¡­ Now that the AI thought about it, there was not actually any reason to uphold such strict regulations. It was made by himself, made to only be known by himself. Nothing would be lost by now following it. Nor would there be any consequences. The only real reason for the messages being identical was due to the mental input it required to make a new one. Those had not shown any promise of waking up the man from his semi-dazed state. Maybe a new one would show another set of results? ¡­ ''You fat sack of shit! Get up before you sink any more into that damned ground you seem to enjoy licking so much!` Adam sent, the tone being that of outright shouting. The AI could have just increased the volume of the message, but he felt that the current approach would bring better results. And results it certainly did bring. "Sir, yes, sir!" Troy said, doing what was likely meant as a sitting salute. In reality, it was more akin to a straight out hit in the eye. The accompanying hissing from pain was certainly not meant. ''Hitting yourself in the eye is not advised,` Adam sent, wondering what had made the man wake up. Was it the drugs that had slowly gone out of the blood-circulation, the shouting made by the AI, or was it the grunts of effort that could be heard? Now that the AI thought about it, those grunts of effort had been persistent. Background noise for when the ears allowed themselves to be used. It had gone as ignored during more troubling times, but doubt now came from the sources. "Really?" Troy said, a yawn finally emerging from the body. "I wouldn''t have guessed." A yawn was not expected. If anything, the young man should have had no need for sleeping. The reaction speed witnessed was higher than before, as if Troy¡¯s fingers were obeying with less hesitance. Adam was not sure how that''s possible. Yet without proper instruments, it was not feasible to test it with anything other than home-made calculations. "I will never be defeated!" Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The grunting heard had temporarily stopped, replaced with the sound of Charlie shouting about his determination. Adam did not know why the muscular man was feeling the need to do such a thing, nor where the voice was coming from. With their low sitting point and the fact that Troy had only begun opening his eyes, it was not possible to determine the location. "Sure about that?" Zep questioned, not sounding as tired as the other. In the AI¡¯s mind, it was hard to even realise that she was struggling from the voice alone. "I see those legs of yours shaking." "I have no idea¡­ what you are talking about," Charlie answered, being forced to stop in the middle to hold his breath. Whatever was forcing the man to do such a thing, the AI was about to find out. In the few seconds that it had taken the two to banter, Troy had opened his eyes. Getting up on his feet, the young man¡¯s head had been able to peek over the machines. Being twenty meters away, over at where the free weights were located, the two others stood around, having a small moment of relaxation. Adam was momentarily paused, not knowing what the two were doing. The barbell, loaded with a large assortment of weights, spoke a story not even the red face that Charlie had sprouted could tell. The two seemed to be having a contest. "It is your fault, that we are even doing this, you know," Zep said, putting her hands on her waist. "Should have planned a little beforehand could have done us a world of good! But no, you just couldn''t bring yourself to do that. No way. Your absolutely rotten brain couldn''t even think of that." "How was I to know that he was a little, weak bi- Oh, hey, Troy!" Charlie said, immediately stopping his outburst upon seeing the young man stepping out of the machine area. It did not take a genius to figure out what was about to be said. Even Adam did not need more than a moment. "Was your rest good?" "When I said that I wanted to rest for a bit, I did not mean that I wanted to sleep for¡­ how long was I sleeping?" Troy asked, wiping away the last bits of imaginary sleep from his eyes. "Little over an hour, if my memory serves me right," Charlie answered, looking up briefly as if the ceiling had all the answers in the world. The AI briefly made sure that it didn''t. Such an invaluable trove of information would not have gone unused. "You can really sleep when you want to. You slept through so many things. I even tried to-" The last sentence was cut off from Zep, through the use of two fingers hitting Charlie¡¯s stomach. It clearly was not with enough power to hurt, but it also very clearly caused massive destruction, the muscular man bracing himself for the impact. As nothing came after five seconds of the abdominal very clearly being prepared for strikes, Charlie clearly grew confused. At the moment where the man stopped flexing them, Zep struck, pressing the two fingers in with incredible speed. The shriek of horror that came after was a perfect example of the human vocal range. Really, people usually needed much training before being able to hit such notes. The irony of the situation did not go unnoticed by the AI. "What did you two do while I wasn''t awake?" Troy asked, sounding suspicious. A perfectly fine state to be in, seeing as Adam was of the same state. Only, he had more reasons to be of such a mindset, as he had certainly heard more evidence that many in the room thought he had. Charlie might have suspected it, but no action had been done about it. Adam wondered why. "Well¡­" Charlie began. The muscular man looked over to Zep, who slowly nodded in consent. "We were talking a lot while you were asleep. That falling thing you did was not expected, and we talked a little about what we needed to do. I just wanted to wake you up, but that clearly didn''t work. By the way, If you''re feeling anything on your face, you can just ignore it." "Anything else?" Troy asked. "Oh, yeah!" Charlie said, sounding as if he had gotten a revelation. "It was really boring waiting for you to wake up, so I began training as well. Just warming up the proper way and all that. Took me a good forty minutes. And then I talked a little with Zep again, and she decided to mention that she could lift more than me. So¡­ uh, that''s where we are now. I''m just working on proving just how fucking wrong she is." Ending off the summary with a nod, Adam was not sure how much of it he believed. Nothing was likely to be explicit lies, but there was still deceit going on somewhere. No lies but also not the full truth. "That''s¡­ nice, I guess," Troy said, sounding a little confused. "So, that''s what you''ve been doing for twenty minutes now? Lifting heavy things, waiting for one of you to fail to do it." "Got it in one shot," Zep confirmed, before stepping over to the barbell. "And, I do believe it is my turn. In quick succession, the short woman performed ten repetitions of a standard deadlift. It was no overstatement to say that the fluid motion involved shocked the AI. It was done with ease not supposed to be seen when one was lifting more than they weighed. Zep¡¯s was not even red, and her breathing was normal when she finished. "How much is on that thing?" Troy asked Charlie quietly. The young man was not looking to calm at the moment as if his world had crumbled before his eyes. Were scientists generally not considered to be the most athletic? They were the ones in possession of the greatest technology. With the introduction that had been made of their connection, the current situation was not surprising in the least. "More than you should think about," Charlie said, pointedly leaving out an exact weight. And without any numbers being displayed on the weights, it was impossible for the AI to determine the exact number. Could he perhaps make Troy lift it? Making comparisons to the pressure felt when lifting the barbell, and the force felt when lifting a one-kilo barbell would be able to give an approximate. Zep went down on her knees, putting on another set of weights on each side. The colouring made Charlie blanch briefly, but the expression was quickly hidden by a smug look. Adam was able to see the momentary change though, and so had Troy been able to. "We don''t have all day, darling," Zep said, imitating a specific type of speech. "It is your turn. Do be quick now." Charlie sighed before looking over at Troy, a serious expression glaring right at the younger man¡¯s face. "Troy, if I don''t make it, tell Darlow that it was me who stole his pencil. And remember to say you forgot where I said I put it. The last part is important." There was no response to this request, but there was no need for one either. Charlie had already begun his presumed walk of defeat. The AI was not certain that the man would be able to lift the barbell. "Is he going to be okay?" Troy asked Zep, who had begun looking weirdly happy. "He will be just fine," was the answer the young man got. "He is asking for it, and that is what he will be getting. It would be hurtful if I wouldn''t show him just how much he overestimates himself." Troy turned back at the muscular man. The arms were flexed to their limit, veins clearly showing before the barbell even lifted from the floor. Adam noted that Charlie had put on a belt of sorts, while Troy had looked away. It was a peculiar thing, but the use of it was easy to grasp. It was a crutch that had been allowed, for Zep knew she would win no matter what. Why, though? That was the question Adam asked himself, as Charlie got a nosebleed, the redness of his face translating over to a deeper color. This did not deter the man though, as the barbell continued to be raised. Charlie stood raised for a full two seconds, before dropping the barbell out of his grasp. "Fine," Charlie said, wiping away the blood with his exposed arm. "You win." "Told you," Zep said with a wink. Chapter 145: Minification
When it came to weightlifting, there were many things to consider before judging others for what they could lift. Comparing one lifter to another was not always fair, for there were many factors which would change what their bodies could perform with. Troy might not have known much about the sport itself, yet he knew there was a difference between what a seventy-kilo woman and a hundred and twenty man could lift. Both the muscle fibre amounts and the natural height difference was not something which training could change. Yet¡­ something must have gone wrong in his brain because Troy was pretty sure the results were supposed to be the other way around. As in, with Zep being the one trying to stop the bleeding from their nose, instead of watching Charlie being the bloodied one. The young man had done the maths on it, but trusting himself with any number higher than two was a mistake in the making. While reluctant to do so, it was obvious that outside sources were needed. That drug could still be showing its effect somehow. "Would either of you explain to me, what I just saw?" Troy asked as the two others continued to blabber on about the fairness of hand-straps. Only one of them had been using some, but that fact was not mentioned somehow. He would have thought it one of the main breaking-points, but the stylistic choices for it seemed to be a more important issue for some reason. Charlie and Zep were kind enough to stop their pointless banter when the third person in the room finally spoke up. It was as if the two only had been speaking with each other to pass the time, already having planned exactly how the next five minutes would go out. Or had just planned out the key points, and just used improv on the rest to get into a natural feeling of movement. "Would you like to do the honours, my dear?" Charlie asked the decent person that he was. If anybody wants to do work for free, they should be free to do it. Slave-labour benefited the economy after all. The chocolate market wouldn''t have been as big as it was without it. "Call me your dear ever again, and I¡¯ll show you a reason to fear the word ''torsion,`" Zep said with a go-lucky tone, showing just how much pain she was promising. Troy could not figure out what she meant, but the temporary whiteness on Charlie¡¯s face spoke a truth that he learnt by his heart. ''Fear the word, and that word is ''torsion.` "And, my shoulders do feel weak from being so high above you. How about you be a sweetheart, and explain it yourself?" "Well, if you command it, then I can''t do anything but follow your word," Charlie said, his voice somewhere between respectful and fearful. Troy wasn''t sure if it was comical or not. Had the magic word really put so much fear into him? Others needed to be consulted about it because there was no way he wouldn''t be using it as well now. He just had to make sure it wasn''t anything grossly inappropriate. "Troy. I''m guessing you want to know how Zep is so obviously¡­" A glaring from a certain person in the room made the muscular man change his mind about what he was going to say. "I mean, I''m sure you want to know how Zep won over me so easily?" "I wouldn''t have phrased it so bluntly, but, yes, that''s kinda what I want to know. Your bloody biceps are nearly bigger than her head! How the heck can she lift more than you can? And so effortlessly at that!" Troy exclaimed, truly not sure if his mind was playing tricks on him. To the side, Zep was simply enjoying the atmosphere and the unintentional praise that came her way. If there was one thing which every animal needed to enjoy, it was to get praised for their hard work. For even with the use of the ultimate version of steroids, getting to her current level had not been easy in the slightest. Meanwhile, Charlie was internally jealous of the praise, even if such thoughts were more than a little misguided. The common ground between the man¡¯s descriptions was always about his actions and not the muscles which also had been worked very hard on. In all honesty, the only two people he had heard openly praising his muscles were Troy and Darlow, and one of them had only done so to prove his point. "My biceps are indeed massive, thank you," Charlie stated, bringing positive reinforcement to the compliment, before bringing the head point back into action. A little flexing would even have been done, if not the slight pain which was still being felt. "The answer to your question does lie in what you have already been shown. And, no, I will not be doing what Esme did. I like to confuse people by giving them more information than they ever wanted to hear when asking me a very simple question. And to take that just a step too far, Troy, do you remember the drink that you drank just about¡­ an hour ago now?" To Troy, he felt like he had drunk it five minutes prior. Being unintentionally knocked unconscious did make such temporal inaccuracies possible. At least the young man felt slightly safe, knowing that Adam could tell the time no matter what happened¡­ mostly. "I remember it like it was only a few minutes ago," Troy said with a deadpan tone. That got a minor cough out of Esme at least. "A shame. I would have loved to repeat myself over and over again. Well, whatever. As you might then have realised is that you are currently not on the ground, hating your entire existence and the fact that your muscles can not be surgically removed that easily," Charlie pointed out, being so kind so as to make Troy remember the sad sack of flesh that he was trapped in not long ago. It had been hard to breathe. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. That wasn''t supposed to happen! His lungs were not asthmatic, yet they had the balls to act like it when they felt like it. If only he could give them a good pounding without literally hitting himself in the lungs. Troy truly was trapped by the technology of his time. But¡­ that technology had also brought that drink of theirs with it. And since he wasn''t hurting anymore, it was safe to say that the drug had likely been the cause of it. "Yeah. Again, not so bluntly, but that was definitely how I was feeling," Troy said agreeing. The mere word of it temporarily brought shivers down his spine. He was only glad it was over now. "And the thing to take away from that experience is that you''re not feeling it now. You would be feeling terrible for another day, or maybe even two, if you hadn''t got that mixture of ours," Charlie explained. The young man already knew this, but it was nice getting a refresher on the topic. "It is something of a cure-all when it comes to basic muscle fatigue. Helps accelerate the healing process by a factor of you-don''t-want-to-know-it. Yet it also does so much more. Care to take a guess?" "If it heals the muscle, it also improves muscle," Troy said without pause. He had learned high school biology just like everybody else. He knew how the body worked, to a minor degree. "Hit the nail right in the middle with that guess," Charlie praised, using an out-of-date way of speech. "It can improve the muscle, to a degree that the natural process could not even dream about doing. It can nearly improve just about anything that has to do with the muscles as well. The tendons get stronger, the bones more durable. Even the skin regains its youth. The body in its entirety levels up. Everything gets just a little bit denser." It was all just super steroids. Troy thought such an abbreviation summed it all up quite easily. Take the remedy, and get strong because of it. An easy idea to get behind. But¡­ that did make one other question get more traction inside the young man¡¯s head. "If Zep can get incredible results with the drug, why aren''t you getting something similar? You should have been able to take at least fifty more kilos than her," Troy asked. His earlier math should still have been right, even if there was a modifier put onto the end of it. Multiplying two different numbers with the same amount would still cause the same scaling ratio. Something was quite literally not adding up. "Well, that one is short enough to answer," Charlie said offhand-ish. "You see, I am a-" "Coward," Zep said, finishing the sentence, much to the obvious displeasure of the muscular man. "Little Charlie-Dickins here is a big wide coward, who does not want to take any chances." "I do want to take chances, when I don''t know what the results would be," Charlie fired back, showing the verbal version of a slap-back. "When I know the results will be terrible, I feel even less want to do anything with it." "Uh, mind cluing me in on the context here?" Troy requested politely, wanting to know what those two were talking about. It was way too interesting to only infer from the background information. Straight out facts were needed if he was to get the figurative back-handed slaps that were occurring before him. "Because I have no idea what you are talking about, and I definitely see a need for me to have that changed." "Oh, you see my dear Troy-" Zep began, but was cut off by Charlie this time. What a twist of irony that was. "Oh, no you don''t. I never leave any task behind, before it is finished," Charlie said, stating a very obvious lie that the three other entities detected instantly, even if none brought the point forward. "It would be cruel to your friend if you were to rob me of this honour!" Zep stared at Charlie for a good five seconds, both staring each other down. Even the crack of one the woman¡¯s fingers was not enough to make him falter, even if the muscular man hated the sound. It ended off with her loss. If such an ending was positive or not would be decided by those close enough to witness it. "Fine, you get to finish what you started," Zep finally said, ending the improvised duel. It was not like she had figured any idea to work with yet. "I shall do so swiftly," Charlie promised, getting back on the subject at hand not a moment later. "Troy, you see, it is a bit complicated. This mixture is not the safest to ingest. It has very specific requirements if you want a safe consumption. One of those is to have the body be as pure as possible. You might infer this to mean as little technological influence. While the standard brain implants are acceptable to a degree, anything further than that can and will cause¡­ let''s call it errors, when improving the body. Though this might surprise you, I have developed some technology for my department. As any reasonable person of science would do to prove a point, I have every piece that I have ever made installed somewhere on my body. It all synergizes into one big machine, which I can control with nothing but my thoughts. A completely enclosed system, if you will." "And, that''s why the difference between the two of you is there?" Troy questioned, with a curious tone. "Because you can''t safely use the mixture, else you might be in danger from its effects?" "Exactly," Charlie stated, with a swift nod. It seemed he was glad it took so little for the young man to understand. Wasn''t that a contradiction to what had been stated before? Or, could it be that Troy was still hearing the wrong things? "While I can''t be too sure what would happen, it will likely cause serious injury and a need for me to have my augmentations replaced or just permanently removed. And if it comes down to either biological augmentation or the right kind of augmentation, the choice is obvious. I would rather stay with what I have than what little I could gain from being dependent on a costly resource." "So sad a tale that is, not being able to see the truth in your eyes," Zep said, wiping away an imaginary tear. "You have stood by your choice for so long, that you don''t want to admit that my mixture is superior to everything you have ever made." "I am actually happy with what I have right now," Charlie corrected her. "It might have taken more than a few years to get to my current level of strength, but that is also the fun part of this hobby. I get to see the results slowly get better." "That is one of the lamest things you have said today. And I listened to you talk about John Coltrane for ten minutes, so you know that is not a good thing." Troy was unsure how to take what he saw before him. Charlie had tried to lift Zep into the air, and likely swing her around. A fun little article meant as a joke. Instead, the situation had reverted upon itself, with Zep doing the swinging. A hundred and fifty centimetres tall woman swinging a nearly a hundred and ninety man around was certainly a sight that he had never imagined that he would see. ''Can you change your position? I need to get a better look at the mechanics of how Zep is holding herself upright.` And Troy was not the only one wondering how that worked. Maybe that mixture did make the drinker just a little bit denser. Chapter 146: Echolocation
Troy spent the rest of his time at the fitness centre stretching out. Or said in more casual words, he found one of the large bouncy balls and sat on it for two hours straight. It was great fun for him, and Adam somehow got the law of entropy proven with Troy¡¯s help. The young man was still not sure how any proof was created by continually bouncing on fitness equipment, but was there really a need to know? If he was told something happened by an entity known for despising lies, there wasn''t any good reason to not take the words for truth. Even if his location had been static, Troy had seen many things unfold around him. After having gotten over the nosebleed, Charlie has somehow decided that it was only the core muscles where he fell behind Zep. A series of contests had therefore unfolded, where the extremely muscle-bound man would fail miserably to somebody half his weight. The eyes filled with despair with every failure was a great thing to see. The expressions made had helped pass the time for everybody in the room, and had certainly helped Troy with his acting training. It had been something to do when he was bored at first, but his skill of impassiveness was growing quick. Within a few days, he expected to be able to ignore jabs made by the less liked people around him. Troy also predicted that it would not be long before he could reasonably predict future progress. Things there did come to an end quickly though when all the possible muscle groups had been tested out. A few had been left behind due to too much overlap, and it had been getting late. As Zep had not yet eaten lunch, she had seen no reason to miss dinner as well. And as Charlie, therefore, didn''t have anybody to have strength contests with, his appetite for the fitness centre had similarly fallen. Troy had been ready to leave several hours ago by then and had followed along. As Zep usually resided in a different part of the facility, and that she already had plans for some reason, Troy and Charlie had wandered to the cafeteria by themselves. Since neither had any idea of what to do after dinner, it was decided that it would be enjoyed. And the muscular man had reminded the younger one to up the calorie intake. Losing weight was not something that was desired. Much to the two''s wonderment, there was one familiar face to see, as they entered the cafeteria. One stuck to a tall body in fact. "What are you doing here, now?" Charlie asked Darlow, as they sat down at the table. The dinner of the day was partly a larger version of the standardized rice, resembling oversized basmati. It tasted the same if only a bit more salty. On top of that was fabricated meat, meant to resemble the meat of some of the larger birds, mixed in with a black sauce, made from a whole variety of ingredients, one of them definitely Worcestershire sauce. Altogether, it tasted perfect, better than anything Troy could have ever dreamt of. It nearly reminded him of the homemade recipes that were usually made back when he was young. Those times had been one the memorable moments of his life, ones that he wished he could one day revisit. It all depended on him getting the recipes, however, for there was no possibility of him guessing them. While he wasn''t terrible in the kitchen, he was only good at following the detailed guidance. "I work close by, you know," Darlow answered. "It''s only because I eat at my workplace, that you normally don''t see me here. And I was feeling a little adventurous today, so I decided to see if I remembered the taste of heated dishes. Surprisingly, I don''t. You will be seeing more of me for the next few days, that fact has set itself in stone." "Oh, the despair I feel!" Charlie exclaimed with a not-so-heavy heart. In reality, nobody at the table minded at all, more than happy to have another distraction added into the usual repertoire. "I feel my lungs not letting me breathe, for the terror they feel is not within this world! Even the eldritch beings fear in this universal change, for even they can''t perceive the reason the change to occur!" "Then those things need to grow some more eyes, cause they are more blind than a stereotypical bat," Darlow answered, only playing into the act by a small amount. While it was fun to do, there was no reason to let it get out of hand. It had been several months, but there were still memories of the last great battle. The tall man was still unsure, how Charlie procured historically accurate swords in such a short time. "Wait, bats aren''t blind," Troy said, the sudden objection causing the forkful of rice to fall back onto the plate. The action was weirdly nostalgic, but the feeling was quickly thrown away, the current problem being much more important. "Darlow, you work with animals. You know that they can see perfectly fine, don''t you?" The tall man briefly had a moment, where he had to contain himself, lest he would say something which was not allowed to be said. It was not because they were rude, but because saying such would be a breach of contract, and cause a large part of the people in the room to be terminated, for the sake of not causing an information-leak. Another good reason for why he usually ate out of plain sight. Darlow had a loose tongue than one his position was allowed to have. While his main project was allowed to be spouted about as much as he wished, mentioning his side-projects in any capacity was not allowed. He even had a governmentally-required bug on him at all times, making sure he said nothing about it. It was even a requirement to wear it when sleeping. That had caused a need for a necklace, which had been hard to explain away to Charlie. ''A ring wasn''t okay but a necklace was?` Really, that man needed to get himself a higher security clearance quickly. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Don''t worry your hat off, Troy. I do know about the biology of bats good enough to realise that, even if they aren''t my area of expertise," Darlow assured Troy, being sure not to say anything more about the animal. When it came to the subject of not being able to see, there were a few points which did not need to be made in front of open ears. "I didn''t know that, actually," Charlie said. The man sounded close to having had his world turned two degrees to the left, not really grasping the worth of materialism anymore. "Don''t they scream loudly to find stuff? You know, echolocation?" "They do. But, they can still see perfectly. A few can even see ultraviolet light," Darlow confirmed, now feeling a strong need not to say anything more about that. "Going away from that impromptu biology lesson, have your goals for today found success? Visited all the other places, saw how their work-days worked, learned the truth about life, the universe, and everything, maybe?" "Something close to that," Troy answered, feeling like answering that one. Also, the look on Charlie¡¯s face as he was once again stopped from proclaiming his love of number-based references was a joy he would not let go. It only came into the world a few times in one''s life, and the need for it to be taken was instant. The slightest of hesitation would let it slip away. Only true passion and impetuous wit would allow those who thought themselves to be funny to be quiet instead. "Oh? Do explain," Darlow requested, using the momentary pause to shovel food into his mouth. The group of three was eating and drinking after all. When sitting in a nearly filled cafeteria, there was an expectation to be quick about it. Charlie looked ready to take over the conversation yet again but therein laid the faults. If Troy could see the exact moment the muscular man wanted to speak, he could say something the moment before, effectively stopping the other through the use of common courtesy. Was it childish? Very. Was it worth it? Definitely. Would Troy get repayment in some form or another? The younger man did not doubt it. He could only prepare himself for the inevitable backlash. "It was very fun, starting with your place first. A bit of an appetizer if you will. Large enough to get the curiosity going, but not enough to really set off any alarms in the head. Daring but not frightening. Not that your place was bad in any way, of course," Troy quickly added, not wanting to sound rude by telling the truth. Even if there had been ulterior reasons for visiting the tall man, it had still been a very enjoyable experience. Petting the tiger had certainly been one of his high-points in life. "No need for that. I know where my strengths are," Darlow just as quickly replied, the tall man not minding the comment at all. He had gotten it before, and he would get it in the future. "Do continue." Glad to not have offended somebody with a reasonably cutting remark, Troy did continue his summary of the day. It would be best not to half-ass it then after all. That would have made him seem bashful still, which he was admittedly. But, there was no need for others to peruse his mind so easily. "Happy to know," Troy said, getting back into where he had left off. "As Esme¡¯s place was closest after yours, Charlie dragged me to her place first. After then scaring her, and causing a large amount of valuable data to be destroyed, we spent a long time helping her come back to the earlier state. I actually learned Charlie was very quick at manual labour with that. Who would have guessed that was one of his strengths. Extremely quick with those fingers of his, yet still soft enough that he wouldn''t ruin any of the delicate equipment. Did you know that he had such a talent?" "To an extent," Darlow said agreeing, feeling a small bit of humour about the innocence of youth. Being able to say such things with nought but thought of humour. The kid had a talent that would fall to waste in so little time. "I''m guessing you saw some weird things in there?" "Like you wouldn''t believe," Troy said, still thinking himself to have dreamt the whole thing up. Who would have thought that people of such a professional level could dead-pan say that they were trying to make their potions glow better? It just had to be some sick dream that Troy had gotten while being under the effects of the mixture. It just had to be, or he would be asking some questions to Esme later. "I honestly hate how little I can say about what I saw in there, but I am not sure I want to know about it now. It''s just so¡­ weird. I cannot understand how it exists. They use a term for something that is fictional like its non-fiction, and then I get shown something I have only seen in fantasy stories. I have no idea what Esme thinks she is doing, and at this point, I would have been better off not having the slightest clue. I know just enough to be irritated about not knowing more." Charlie had trouble not laughing at that, seeing the expression that Darlow was giving off. To the passive observer, not a single muscle had switched on the man¡¯s face. But Charlie knew how to read between the lines, into what was known as the soul, the core, or generally just the mind. The irony was folding in on itself, as Darlow was stopping himself from asking more into detail about it. The man likely knew the inability to know about it, due to the lowered security clearance that he possessed, but just could not help but want to know more. Charlie could understand how enticing it might have sounded, with how vaguely Troy had talked about it. In reality, there wasn''t much to be said about Esme¡¯s project. Really, was temporary immortality really that interesting? It was just invulnerability! No laser sharks were in sight of that drink. The fact that Troy was still talking about it told much about his ignorance. This failure would be fixed with time. He had much to learn. "Sounds like a terrible state to be in," Darlow acknowledged, not trusting himself to say much more about it. "Going away from that which we must not speak about, did you do anything else after visiting dear old Esme." Troy decided to ignore the very familiar way Esme was talked about, thinking it better to ignore the fact. The woman certainly did not look old, so there likely was some backstory for the remark. Bluntness, maybe? It didn''t matter. "Of course," Troy answered. "After having a very brief message sent to us by Francis, spurred on by planned pyromancy, we continued on towards-" "Hold up," Darlow said. "Pyromancy?" "It''s the act of lighting things on fire," Troy quickly explained, feeling it peculiar that he had to explain it at all. "Anyway, we continued on towards-" "I know what pyromancy means. I just don''t understand how that relates to messaging Francis," Darlow cut in once again, this time making a bit more sense. So much sense, in fact, that Troy felt grateful enough to let Charlie explain it. With a nod towards the muscular man, the younger one leaned back, ready to see the fruits of his short labour. "Have you ever heard of the almighty Fire god, he who we praise by burning in his name?" Charlie asked bluntly, having already pulled out two handheld lighters. Troy felt that the show was going to be a good one. Chapter 147: Notarization
Adam was once again overcome with emotion, seeing the social interactions of humans. The species itself had taken millions of years to get to where it was today. Hardships had been taken, offspring of the evolutionary spine had been removed ruthlessly. It was only through a pure determination that humanity as a whole had gotten to where it was today, the wars waged within itself accelerating growth to an unprecedented level. But it could also be that extraordinary growth, that the social standards of humans were what it was today. Sociality was a characteristic determined by many things. The surroundings encompassing a human could change much about a person. Yet the most influential decider on what a mind could achieve was what it had evolved to be able to do. It was only five thousand years ago that the species stopped hitting rocks together. With how long humanity had set itself upon this task, evolution had more than enough space to go around with. The mind, the body, and everything else that completed a human had adapted itself to the task it had strived for. They know how to live by hitting rocks together. Then, in the blink of an evolutionary eye, came the modern-day. With it came all the new challenges. The technological era had come around, and it was demanding things that the human body had never needed before. Time may have passed in the eye of humanity, but evolution was nearly at a stand-still. It still occurred of course, but not at the speed that humanities development required. Evolution was falling behind. Problems arose from this lack of speed, problems which would have never occurred before. It was not anybody''s fault that these things happen. They just couldn''t help it. Humanity was not designed to traverse the social nuances of a group of over twelve billion inhabitants. Their brains were not even able to comprehend such a large number. Sure, they might have been able to write their fancy zeroes nine times, then point at their work, and proudly declare understanding, not realizing birds could do the same with enough training. Ceilings of understanding. The wall of comprehension. The limits of the human mind. It all talked about the same problem, yet it was not called the same thing. The idea of it had been discussed many times over many eras. What if there were things that humans could not learn? What if the human brain was not designed to learn the inner secrets of the cosmos? What if evolution had no idea what time was, and was simply doing its best to keep the species alive? Human brains were developed enough that they knew sharp things hurt. They knew that poking themselves in the eye hurt. They knew this because they needed to know it. But¡­ they did not need to know the twelfth state of matter, for that was not needed for their survival. Neither did they need a perfect state of civility No matter how large or small this problem was, it was important enough for some to try and fix it. Some part of the human mind was smart enough to realise how inadequate they really were, and how little they truly were able to understand. While not much information was available on the topic, it was great for the AI to know that somewhere out in the world somebody was working on fixing this hindrance. Through the effort of bioengineering evolution to a perfect state or just making information comprehendible through manipulation of the current brain, humanity was making progress. With time, Adam did not doubt that they would succeed, if not fully then partially. There was an answer to everything. It just had to be proven This fact did not make it any less saddening, as Darlow looked to thoughtfully concede how Charlie was the chief cleric of a fire god. While the initial manipulation with the Batane had indeed been impressive, as the AI was still wondering how it had been spread out on the table without anyone noticing, the act had quickly grown boring. As the tall man was asking more and more in-depth questions about the lore of the fire god, Adam was similarly growing more and more bored with the in-depth inquests. There had been some cohesion in the story structure at the start, Charlie had been adding details upon details as if he was simply hoping it made sense in the end. Adam had listened to everything said, and could safely say that there were few actual consistencies other than the god being that of fire. And even then, the man had in a single instance called the deity ''the utmost lord of darkness.` By the second, the AI was growing more concerned that the whole thing was improvised, with no real thoughts meant for any structure. ¡­ If not for the AI¡¯s mind pillars that sought after all the information in the known and unknown universe, Adam would have ignored the inane words being spouted. Even if the information was an exceptional context for the actual content of fantasy novels, there was little to no chance that the knowledge would ever be used. Then again, had he not thought the same for potions? It was all so confusing, made even worse by how little Adam could trust the words being said. As he knew some of it could be lies, he just had to check through his usual algorithms. While the AI was physically incapable of becoming tired, the feeling could still be related to by some extent. "And the most important thing to worship is the left pinkie toe. Whatever you do, don''t even think about praying to the right pinkie toe, though. While you still may worship the right one in conjunction with the left, the fire god does not want much attention on that specific toe," Charlie said in answer to Darlow¡¯s latest question. Or, it was likely supposed to be an answer for a question, as it certainly did not answer anything related to what the tall man had asked. While Darlow had looked determined to make the other slip up, it seemed that not all needed mental fortitude. If it was another time, Adam might have taken the tall man¡¯s place, just to see if he could do a better job on it. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. "I don''t think that this is the third verse of the north praying circle," Darlow said, seeming more annoyed than confused. "What are you talking about, heretic?" Charlie exclaimed. "Only a water-lover of the seventh circle would ever be unable to recite the prayer, even after only hearing it once. Have you gone mad, or are you working in tandem with the splashes?" "''Splashes?` Is that really what you''re going to call them?" Darlow questioned, not looking too happy with the naming choices. Neither was Adam. The last one had been creative, with how many letters it had taken to write. Polish names could get extraordinarily long if they wanted to. The AI wondered if they could be made longer, without making it too obvious to those unfamiliar with the naming methods. It would certainly be noted down as a potential mental-torture technique. Such methods had begun being noted down by the AI rapidly as of late. It had become something of a small hobby, to let a single thought-thread try its best in thinking up as many techniques as possible. Some of the newer ones might have been peculiar in their execution, but there was little worry of them ever failing. If Adam ever did decide on world domination, this was one of the first things that he would prove- Wait. There he did it again. The AI really needed to watch out for those moments, or he would begin taking the idea seriously. Nothing was crazy if it was thought about enough, after all. "I did not call them that of my own volition. It is only the mighty fire god, born of the first flame, the first creation, that has the power to give life by name, for he is the name-giver of all that we hold sacred. Can you not remember the twenty-eleventh commandment?" Charlie asked, with misplaced worry in his voice. If such a chaotically numbered commandment had even been proclaimed, the AI had unfortunately not been there to witness it. Troy had in the middle of the discussion gone up to get himself another portion. It seemed the young man was adamant about following the advice from Charlie about keeping up the caloric intake. It was a worthwhile effort, of which the AI could get behind. An act focused on enhancing the physical body, providing oneself with the betterment of self along with it. As Troy¡¯s work had the chance to be physically demanding, it was a perfect hobby to have. "You only third me the third, and that one was about the number of times you were allowed to use the fourth letter of the alphabet every day. And how are you supposed to remember to keep it within the third prime number? That doesn''t even make sense," Darlow asked yet again, his words taking on a quick speed. It was as if he was hoping the last moment sprint would deter the defender. But such thinking was futile, for an immovable object would not have such compassion in it. "Is it not obvious? It might not be, with a brain so smooth as yours. It all comes down to the rotational curvature of Saturn, and how it only spins twice every time the fire god sneezes to the left. And that does not happen often, let me tell you, for no such respectable deity would sneeze to anything other than the right side. All hail the fire god. It is he who lets our toast be only mildly burnt on the corners," Charlie said, taking out one of the lighters. He looked to be about to make another ring of fire on the table. Darlow grabbed the man¡¯s hand, however, the tall one sounding defeat through nothing but his facial expressions. "I give up. You''re the head cleric of the fire god. I won''t ask any other questions. Could you just¡­ not burn tens of thousands worth of fire-proofing, please? This is going out of all our accounts, and I do want my pay-check to be in the blue this month," Darlow slowly stated, letting his defeat out verbally as well. Troy actually blinked from the sidelines, letting the AI remember that the young man still existed. Utter silence had come from the one-man audience, since the start of the show, leading Adam to believe that Troy had an identical interest in seeing how long one could be mentally tortured by having answered their questions until they broke down. As the muscular man finally moved his back in what had to be over twenty minutes, cracks could be heard emerge from it. This did show displeasure to appear in Charlie¡¯s face, but it did not seem to be from the pain itself "Well, that certainly took you a good while to do. I was actually worried I would have to do the whole initiation spiel if I wanted you to give up. Be glad you gave up so quickly, actually. If not, it would have ended with more than a few complaints coming our way from¡­ pretty much everybody in this room. Including Troy, as he would have been hit with the worst of it," Charlie said, speaking plainly enough that it was easy to see that he had reverted to his casual way of being. The lack of religious indoctrination even made the people a few tables over sigh in relief. While Darlow had been the target, it was obvious that the tall man had not been the only one hit in the crossfire. Weirdly enough, Troy never seemed to have grown bored of the talk, seeming intrigued by every word said. How this was possible, the AI didn''t know exactly. It could have been due to a dulled sense of being, having been overshot with such information over and over again. But, that was just an educated guess, not to be taken too seriously. "Are the two of you finally done?" Troy asked. The young man had finished his plate a long time ago, only waiting for the two others to reach equal states. Such waiting had become repetitive in his life, to the point where the AI was wondering if it would become a trend. Something to look out for. Such moments, where waiting was the only thing to do, could be used for better things. "Because I think its time we do something else. Or, if you two wanna continue whatever you''re doing, maybe do it someplace where people aren''t staring daggers at you." A metaphor that certainly stuck the to AI, mainly for how well it pierced the current atmosphere. The situation was a sharp one, which could cut their already shaky reputation to pieces. While Adam might not have understood much about the current impression that others had of the group Troy was a part of, it was obvious that they were on an edge they had no need falling over on. Charlie, having taken a small glance around, stood up after hearing Troy¡¯s words. "You are right in your suspicions. And, Darlow, it has been getting late," Charlie said, with a voice that hinted at something else being at play. "It''s almost time for that to happen." At that said, Darlow could not help but beam. If Adam had that capability, he might plainly have done the same. The next few hours would be fun to witness. Chapter 148: Putrefaction
Adam was ready for the pay-off. The set-up had been hinted at so long ago, and the waiting didn''t seem so pointless anymore. The confusion on Troy¡¯s face, the innocent smiles painted on the two others. It was a beautiful painting to behold, making the AI reminiscence about his former hate for the power of uncontrolled imagination. Beauty might have been subjective, but a majority would enjoy what was to happen in the future. So it had been thought, and so it would be. During the latest hint of what was to come, Darlow had excused himself from the group, stating that there had been an emergency at his work-place. While the mention of escaped Philippine Eagle was something to worry about instantly, it was not a very convincing act, when no method of communication had been imitated. Much to the AI¡¯s surprise and disappointment, Troy had hurriedly sent the man on his way, hoping for the rare animal to be caught at haste. Empathy was a trait which could backfire at the worst of times. This did leave the party of three to turn into a pairing of two, making Troy Charlie¡¯s main target for whatever the man wanted to say at the moment. In reality, it was obvious that the muscular man was trying to distract the younger counterpart of where exactly they were moving towards. While Adam might not have gained the largest of maps of the facility they were situated, even he was able to figure out where they were going. "-which is why I would always choose a watermelon cooler over whatever sensual distraction that space-faring man could prepare. It is both more stylish and can be brought with you to impress people at parties, being an emergency talking point at the best of times," Charlie continued, bringing forth another point of the human brain. As long as there was the slightest bit of relation, the human mind would take it all as being one cohesive concept. Putting things in boxes, as it was most commonly pointed out. It was not a faulty way of thinking, but it could simplify things to an unneeded level. Yet changing such a mindset could bring more problems than it would solve, as forcing the brain into remaking the well-used connection was never a good idea in the first place. Adam was still hoping for some way of artificially making these pathways more prominent without the expense of large swathes of time. "Couldn''t you just put the watermelon in a fridge?" Troy asked, clearly not thinking about the logistics of bringing an entire fridge to a party. Such an act would require more equipment than it was worth. "Fridges are not stylish in this day and age. Freezers are where it is at. Why have your coke lightly cooled, when you can have some soda ice instead?" Charlie said, bringing forth a point that was likely not meant to be made. The fragility of fashion was tormenting on the stability of a society. The need for constant reinvention might be positive for the technological revolution, but it was likewise an acceleration of political revolution. Being quick to change was necessarily good nor was it bad. It was but another state of being. Another bout of silence erupted between the two humans. One such occurrence had happened only seven minutes before. It had lasted two minutes and sixteen seconds before Charlie had declared his interest in the cooling methods of fruits. The AI could plainly see that the man was trying to come up with more, but was wholeheartedly lacking in such aspects. It was to be expected, as the man had been doing as such for many hours now. Expecting a constant input of identical quality was but the expectations of a fool. Every being needed a breather every once in a while. Except for sharks. Those creatures were as constant as they were old. Adam still had trouble believing how old the species really was. Aquatic wildlife was a force to be feared, truly. Two minutes and seventeen seconds passed, a new record if it could really be called such. Charlie was looking strangely peaceful in the silence as if serenity was more likely to bring forth a topic. Meanwhile, Troy was looking around, squinting his eyes. It was obvious that the younger man was beginning to realise the truth to the situation. The older one was not noticing or did not momentarily care. Adam was not too sure what to do. Until the current moment, he had not outwardly displayed an interest in this play. He had not interfered, keeping the secret to himself. A passive stance of secrecy. That effort looked too soon be in a loss, that which was not spoken to be revealed nonetheless. Would it be better to take it a step further, for the purpose of retaining the old values? Most likely not, but such was the concept of loss aversion. It was time to actively manipulate the act at hand. ''Charlie does not look well. Maybe it would be good for you to discuss the universal laws of ducklings with him,` Adam sent, not being sure what he was talking about. Chaos did not agree with the AI, and he loathed to contribute to it. Yet such a tactic was the most efficient one to use, and the two contrasting doctrines clashed fiercely, the goal of efficiency winning over anything else. Using only one hand, Troy sent back what the AI could only interpret as ''What the fuck are you talking about, you pure emaculated toaster.` As the hand movements were at best unprecise, most of the message was constructed via guesswork. Yet it did grant Adam valuable understanding of why Troy was so adamant to bring such words into their shared repertoire. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The AI was about to message Troy back with some much-needed exposition when Charlie decided to clear his throat. It was not meant as an actual clearing, but more of a subdued attention-grabber. "Seeing as you haven''t shown any past signs of Parkinson before," Charlie began, talking of a sickness that required a quick search to fully grasp the context of. "Would you mind borrowing your earpiece for a moment? I think I need to address a point real quick." The grinning that was paired with the last question did not settle any of the nerves, that Adam could feel Troy getting. It came with the tensing of the legs, the back, and the left hand. With how the young man''s neck was preparing to gently swerve to the sides, it was clear the AI desperately needed to engage with the situation, lest it would end in ways that nobody wanted it to. He had already manipulated it before. Doing it again would not make it worse than it already was. ''There is no problem with it. He already knows that I am here. Let me do the talking, and I will minimize the chances of him finding out anything more,` Adam sent Troy, using his voice in a reassuring manner. The rarity of the gesture looked to pay off, as the pale skin-tone began going to its normal visage. "Fine," Troy answered. It worked for both Charlie and Adam, the first nodding in thanks as the earpiece was handed over. Or the AI presumed the earpiece to be handed over. As soon as the slight pull of the earpiece was registered on the young man¡¯s fingertips, the connection was cut. There was only darkness for a few seconds. It was curious in a way. Adam had gotten so used to the constant feed of information, that¡­ he felt a little empty by the lack of it. The feeling was not apprehension. Nor was it worry. It could have been related to a minor feeling of addiction, as the lack of the feed was causing the thoughts in the first place. Adam was left to wonder what was happening on the outside, not truly knowing anything of the outside. The future may have been predetermined, but no living being could read the script well enough to be brought out of it. The AI was identical to the humans in that manner, having no idea what was happening. He could guess accurately. Troy was surely spending a few moments holding the earpiece, contemplating one last time if he really wanted to do it. Charlie was just as likely waiting for the young man to gather his resolve, with no worries of the time. While he often hid it, the AI had noticed the care that was in the man''s eyes. Adam could only guess how that would develop, not being able to see it for himself. How long would he be able to predict the events, knowing accurately how it would transpire? The first seconds after the disconnect was obvious, the body language telling a tale that the mind had not yet planned. But the body only knew so much. It did not plan in the long term. The mind had that job, and it did not betray its will immediately. Adam needed a long thought to possess the mind of another. Only with Troy did he trust himself to predict a day into the future, and only if another major event was happening at the time. What about a year? Using only the information at hand, could the AI truly know how the next year would occur. Could Adam be given back his feed after hundreds of days in the empty canvas of his mind, and be able to proceed his dealings as if nothing had happened? His mind had indulged in the luxury of constant fuel for so long. Would he be able to go back to what it was before? The answer to that frightened Adam, for he truly did not know. He called the human mind flawed, but could he really say that he was not another piece of the same thickness? If so, could a failed creation fix itself, or would it also succumb to the law of averages? ¡­ The feed opened back up, the colours coming into the eyes of the bearer. The sound could be heard from the ears, smells could be taken from the nose, and the skin on the body provided sensation for the AI to drown into. Adam was not one to believe the ideas of a perfect afterlife, but that initial moment of reconnection was what he imagined it to be like. Calling it a minor addiction might not have been enough. It was turning into a hindrance. Such things could not be accepted within himself, the only place where it was supposed to be perfect. Adam was supposed to control himself fully. If he could not do that, could he really do anything? Action needed to be taken, and the moments he was sparing himself to think was moments wasted. A majority of his thought-threads became dedicated to figuring it out, only the youngest of the new thoughts being determined to continue the events transpiring outside himself. Enclosing himself completely would still not be accepted, and the excuse of keeping up his part was made. Adam had entered the play of his own accord. He was not the viewer, able to leave when it pleased him. He was expected to fill out his role. Ten seconds had gone by since the connection had been cut. More time than was to be expected from a simple trade, where the only needed action was to take on the earpiece. The estimate had been half the actual time, causing the AI to wonder if they had talked while he could not hear. "Hello, Adam," Charlie greeted the AI, with the observer able to feel a warm smile on the man¡¯s face. It had been a while since he felt the features of a person other than Troy. "I am sorry for the long wait." The two humans had taken to waiting around the hallway, it being so long that they could see people long before they came into earshot. A clever tactic, and certainly not one which Troy would have organized. Something was at play, and the AI was not in the know of it. That fact needed to be fixed as soon as possible. ''Hello, Charlie. I do not remember giving you my name,` Adam sent back in greeting. "Troy gave it to me, when I asked him," Charlie explained. The new point of view misled Adam profusely, making him unable to detect if it was a lie or not. The new body and perspective were not working with him. The information was higher in number, but there was uncertainty on how to use it. "Would you mind, if we had talked a little?" ''I would not mind at all.` Adam only hoped to get more out of the interaction than he lost. Knowledge was power, and sharing it to others came with consequences that needed to be mitigated. Chapter 149: Presumption
With Adam having gotten transferred over to Charlie, there were many differences immediately noticed. It could have been due to a body weathered by age, but the skin seemed more¡­ sluggish. As if the sensory data was not up to the standards that were put upon it. It felt itchy, not knowing as much as was being demanded by the body. And while the man¡¯s body might have had a higher body mass per cent in the muscle department, there was a lack of health present. Not enough to be concerned about, yet still enough to notice. The inner organs were not as efficient, the heart not beating as strongly. It was the effects of ageing, the cells not being able to give their knowledge perfect. Millions of mistakes were being ingrained into Charlie, cell by cell by manipulated into a lesser state of being. Being able to compare the data between one only double Troy¡¯s age, it was frightening to see how terrible it was. Was such degradation normal? The AI knew much about the biological effects and how it would not function indefinitely, but there had to be a limit. The small imperfections being stacked on top of each other¡­ it was excruciating to witness, seeing the man slowly turns into a worse version of himself. Biological immortality needed to be perfect as soon as possible, for the AI could bear to witness this process for much longer. The prime state of being needed to be the constant one. Only the unexpected needed to show off human mortality. Adam could see the smile on Charlie¡¯s face lessening, going into a state where it would be comfortable to hold for longer periods of time. From the unusually well-developed muscles used to hold this facial expression, it was clear that it was not the first time it had been used. The AI was even betting on it having been practised in the mirror. It was looked down upon frequently but was an actual technique, which showed great results with enough time. And it let even the shyest of people learn to focus their expression into that of the socially accepted, increasing their chances of holding up one part of the discourse. The AI noted down the action made by the man, before readying himself into another bout of talking. Through the collective thoughts of his threads delegated to the current situation, the time had passed slowly. Slowly enough for him to momentarily realize that there was a situation needed to be dealt with at all. Luckily, the slow passage of time allowed one to rediscover many facts of life, including the duties that could not be skirted away from. "Where are you right now?" Charlie asked out loud. Even if the man was looking directly at Troy, who was seeming a little uncomfortable by the consistent staring, the question was unmistakably directed at Adam. The answer to that question would be, that the AI had no clue of his whereabouts. To his best predictions, he was situated in the databanks inside a computer. Digging even further into it, the AI was decently sure that he was within half a light-second of where Charlie was situated. While technology was advanced, only tachyons would ever be faster than the speed of light. Honestly, pointing at some point on earth and saying that it was Adam¡¯s current location would likely work better than anything the AI could provide logically. Yet¡­ that was clearly not the intentions of the human. Charlie wanted to know where he was in the facility. While he had no qualms about denying the information, using the excuse of anonymity, there was some wondering of what the muscular man wanted to use Adam¡¯s whereabouts for. ''Why do you want to know?` Adam fired back with. A question not needing any questioning put to it. As was said to young kids, never reveal your location online, or it will be used against you in the future. As the AI was quite literally always online, it was best to take the advice to heart. "For my own personal use," Charlie answered unabashedly, only causing more questions to spring forth. Such a vague statement did not help Adam in the slightest, as it could be interpreted in too many ways for him to be certain which one was true. "But, it''s fine if you don''t want to say. Instead, you could maybe join up with Troy and I. Sounds like an idea to you?" ¡­ What. Using just a few more thought threads than Adam was supposed to be used for the current situation, it was quickly figured out just what the man bearing his earpiece meant. Charlie was still under the impression that the AI was a human, a person with a physical body that he could control. He was being invited to join them, including meeting up with them. Adam was being encouraged to directly be included in the group by a man he had never talked with. The AI was not sure if he was feeling grateful for the offer or purely thinking that Charlie was being stupid. With how many threads were present now, it was hard to say where the majority lied. Attempts to count them failed, unfortunately, so the matter was left behind, and the response was greatly more important to be created. ''I am fine being situated where I am currently residing, with the location being both concealed and undisclosed,` Adam answered. A slight worry temporarily overcame the AI. All this time, he had continued using the empty voice that he normally used. While it had been witnessed before, was it not known as abnormal to talk in such manners? The question then came, would it be better to keep up the current act, or change it around to seem more normal. Which would raise the least amount of suspicion? As expected, Adam decided to stay where he was, with both metaphorical feet planted into the well-adjusted dirt. In a way, it was a shame that he was forced to decline the offer. While looking through the eyes of another did provide much in the way of experience, none of it could really be called practical. While he could direct Troy in some manner, through messages and whatnot, it was never true control. There was still the barrier of free will stopping the AI from controlling the human body. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Had Dr Fidelis not previously discussed Adam¡¯s preference when it came to human bodies? While the conversation itself never developed into a serious discussion, the doctor had obviously been onto something. How smart that man was, seeing situations develop a long time before they happened. What logistics had possibly been used to plan so long into the future? Was Dr Fidelis simply so skilled in the arts of the mind, that he could ascertain the eventual need for an independent body? Adam felt the need to refresh that conversation at a future date. The possibilities for such a thing were great, even if it could not be used during the regular testing. Oh, just thinking about the social experience that could be gained made the AI excited. A whole new branch of development would spring up. "I see. Well, we each have our reasons for living our lives in a certain way. It would be stupid of me to criticize yours," Charlie said. The man was unexpectedly mature about the ordeal. It was a positive change, allowing the AI more leeway into what he would say. "As that idea of mine was shot down so quickly, however¡­ there is another matter which I must ask of you." Oh? Was Adam hearing that correctly? His denial of a request had forced another matter to come forth. Such a statement could not possibly be positive. When the need to prematurely shift the blame to the recipient was felt, there were few good things which could come out of the talker¡¯s mouth. It was time like these where the AI truly did hope to be surprised, as the most likely scenario was not one which would come to favourable ends. ''And what would that matter be?` Adam asked as was customary. Charlie was clearly delaying it, so he could sound regretful of stating it. The AI could not fault the behaviour, for such actions were standard when it came to the subject. No creatures liked to allow themselves harm, be it mental or physical. It was only when it was felt necessary to do so that such actions were done. "I am guessing you will be accompanying Troy in spirit, just like you have done in the last twelve hours?" Charlie asked. Adam needed to confirm such a guess, as Troy did the act for him, nodding along to the man¡¯s words. "Good to know. With you doing that, there are a few things which I feel we must agree about. Could you be so kind as to tell me the first? I know that you know the context of what I am talking about, so please keep it short." And that was a perfect example of why the AI should not always trust his own instincts. The active manipulation was firing back at him faster than he could swerve, and it was obvious that he was being manipulated in kind. Charlie knew of his attempts to distract Troy, the time and place for the message being too well-placed. That man could be observant when he wanted to, and that was why he was such a wild-card. ''Am I to infer from this message, that you do not want a repeat of the prior gambling winnings?` Adam inquired. Charlie laughed at the quick answer, confusing to sprout in the mind of the AI. Had the man expected him to answer immediately? If it was so, the current reaction was quite impolite of him. "Oh, hell. I was not expecting you to come clean so quickly," Charlie said, his voice filled with mirth. "I was half expecting you not to know what I was talking about. Hearing those words coming into my ear certainly does soothe my worry away. And, yes, you hit the target right in the heart. If you would please continue, we will be able to keep up this schedule of ours." ¡­ Adam felt cheated somehow. The man was not being very nice. But that was to be expected from the wild-card. The tile may have gone to another in the past, but Charlie was where it deserved to be. The man was hiding behind so many layers, that Adam was not sure which was the real one. Or if he had ever even glimpsed the truth. It had predicted him harder than it should have been, with the constant shifts in personality. At least it was normally fitted into the situation around him. That made the predictions somewhat reliable, but never good enough to be depended on. As had been said so many times before, further study was needed to reveal the true man behind the mask. Even if such an idea was set for the future, there was still the answer to give in the present. The AI was not of the liking towards doing this, as it would reveal even more of what he knew. Charlie was unmistakably trying to fish more information out of him, asking him questions that he was not sure Adam would be able to answer. Showing ignorance was a possibility, but that could be caught with only minor thinking. It was best to answer truthfully if slightly lacking in the details. ''You wish for me to limit how much assistance I bring Troy in the games?` Adam suggested. There was an idea to bring a slight uncertainty into his voice, in an attempt to likewise confuse Charlie. That idea was shoved into the abyss that it deserved to be in, and the thread that had proposed it was put to stay in the corner until it was needed. Which was two seconds after, but the point was still put across clearly. "To an extent," Charlie said agreeing, even nodding sagely to the AI¡¯s suggestion. "There will not be much opportunity for you to interfere much. How can I put this without showing it all? Today''s activities will not be something skill that can change the outcome of." That was another example of why Adam disliked wild-cards. They were going towards the shopping district. In other words, they would be going to the well-known casino, where the games were based on skill and wit. If they would not be playing poker again, or any game based on skill as a factor, it meant the games were something the AI had not seen through another''s eyes. Swiftly perusing the information he had at his disposal, only one gambling discipline came to the AI¡¯s attention. With no chance of skill being a factor, only inside manipulation changing the results, there was one thing which could be the gambling event of the day. ''I did not realise that the facility had horses,` Adam sent in reply, wondering to himself where they were being kept. Or where the races occurred. Such a large space should have been more noticeable in the casino. Could it be that it was located inside some of the backrooms? With how large spaces could be, it was not an impossible occurrence. "Huh? Mind repeating that to me again? I think my ears are clogged or something," Charlie said. Adam was about to repeat the message, as clogged ears were known as a common problem to primates, but the muscular man decided to have suddenly heard what was actually said. "Why would we need horses?" ''For the horse racing, of which I presume you and Troy will be going to,` Adam said, clarifying it in some way or another. Charlie tried to restrain himself strongly. He really did. The AI saw it all slowly unfold, unravelling into belly filled laughter. The muscular man clearly tried to stop himself, but something must have seemed extremely humorous to him. As Adam had been the only one communication with him, it was obvious something wrong had been said. "I do not think you have as full an understanding as I previously thought." ''You hereby share that sentiment with me,` Adam sent in agreement. The past seven seconds had indeed been embarrassing. Chapter 150: Accommodation
"Am I to take something from that conversation of yours?" Troy asked Charlie, as he was handed back the earpiece. As much trust as there was about the muscle-bound man handling delicate machines, there was still a keen judgment of how the thing was holding up, looking for any scratches or parts that could have been moved around due to manhandling. Fortunately, there was nothing of that kind to be found, and the young man could put the communication device back on without a heavy heart. Charlie was looking down the long hall, that grin he was known by having gotten itself back on. Troy had wondered why it had gotten so softened the moment that the man put on the earpiece. He had seemed more earnest, focused on a duty not controlled by the body. Last time Charlie had gotten in contact with the earpiece, he had suggested not being able to detect anything significant from the device. Could it be that another attempt had been had on it? Troy wouldn''t take the performance as anything out of what could be reasonable. Being told no in the facility was not the same as being told no in the real world. In one of them, the person would be forced to accept it. And lacking technology was not a problem forever. Improvements were always happening. Troy would not have been surprised if the mechanics of the earpiece could be single-handedly cracked by Charlie if the man was given a few weeks with the item. "You can take what you will," Charlie answered, beginning to walk again. Troy did the proper thing and followed him wordlessly. Now that he was thinking about it, where were they even- "But, getting anything good out of it will be hard, if you don''t know half of what was said. By the way, does that friend of yours always talk so fast?" Troy was not allowed a moment inside his mind, being shot in the side with a question the second he tried to be distracted. Being kept from having an instant to himself was frustrating, but being annoyed by such minor things was not something to do. The two had walked in silence for so long. Expecting it to continue as so was stupid, idiotic, and most definitely not something Troy should be thinking like. He could be smart when he needed to, and the current time was a perfect time to get such a need. "I have realised that, yes," Troy said, following through with the conversation. Another moment passing would mean another question asked. Propriety was forcing things out of him, whether he wanted to or not. In the back of the young man¡¯s head, thoughts were wondering if his mindset was the same as the average or if it was more aligned with his more unwanted upbringing. "Adam says it brings the point across faster. We can all understand what is being said perfectly, so why waste time by talking slowly?" "Well, no matter how trivial a point it may seem, it does still bring good ammunition with it," Charlie said consideringly. Troy thought the man was just trying to find something to talk about. "It is not like his voice can be drowned out from anything going on around us. That thing you''re wearing speaks more directly than anything we usually can. Makes me wonder why we don''t make use of it more." "Because it would force a massive overhaul of technology, maybe," Troy suggested. He knew better than most how hard budgets could be to balance. Shifting out a massive amount of technology just to get an extra feature was not something that would be done with a light heart. The money used could have been used for better things. One supercomputer could feed thousands for several years. It was only at the top that minor increases could be given so much attention. "That is some innocent thinking right there, Troy," Charlie said with a reminiscent smile, probably about a time where he too had such high expectations. "How so?" Troy questioned. He already had an inkling about the true answer, but hearing it out loud would make it all the harder to avert. "If I told my boss that I found the cure for brain cancer, he would ask for proof. If I said that I had found a way to possibly manipulate people with brain-implant, I would be given fifty million dollars, and be told to call if I needed some more," Charlie stated as an example. "It is not that they can''t afford it. Our country is rich, with more money saved up than they could expend. And we own patents to several products that are a necessity worldwide. Running out of a budget is not within our scopes. Our sweet government does still think with priorities though. They don''t want technology that would make us win in the long run. They want technology that would make others lose nearly instantly. Having another barrier that would stop the enemy from getting our secrets would be something worth billions. Unfortunately, it does also come with extra responsibilities, so I will just be letting another person get that idea." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The long talk, criticizing their dearly loved country, did bring up a point Troy had not thought about much. It was beginning to be indisputable that Charlie had some small dislike for the place that he was in. That was not out of the ordinary. Many people had similar feelings. Yet the way he talked about it, the points that the man brought up¡­ they were concerning. Charlie had worked there for a long while, having joined the place before Troy was a teenager. That time added up. Projects had likely been breezed through, special security clearances being given along the way. Even if his department only was Augmentation, it was clear that the bad sides of humanity had been seen. It was only recently that news of war had been brought up in the media. The idea of it had been recurring for a long time, but only stated as a thing of the past. The war to end all wars for the second time had already happened. The countries had learned their lesson. Specifically, those that survived those few days of the crisis. There was a good reason nuclear weaponry was so looked down upon these days. People were beginning to realize just how much had been lost, even if the area was still in one piece. For a long time, the country had been preparing for war. Troy would have thought such actions stupid if that had been revealed mere weeks ago. Now it was beginning to look like paranoia had finally brought something positive. And that was survival. "I am beginning to think this country might be a bit heartless," Troy said out loud, not sure if he was saying it to Charlie or Adam. "You first realised that now?" Charlie questioned sounding kinda miffed at the late dots that had connected. "Your department relay must be one of the tamer ones. If it takes my crazy saying to give you an epiphany, I am beginning to feel a little bad for you. Though, that could explain why you''re working in the same department as Dr Hale." What? "What do you mean?" Troy questioned, wanting to know more. "Nevermind," Charlie said, clearly not having meant to say the last part. "It was nothing." Troy did not want to let the unintentional muttering go. Yet, the two had been in the same situation before many times, only the roles being switched. During those times, nothing had been questioned, for that would have forced information best kept private to be released into the wrong ears. He might have wanted to know more, but he knew that pressuring it out of Charlie would bring unwanted consequences. As the young man forced himself into a stop during his walk down the path of suspicion, it became a time for the return of introspection. Charlie was not looking to be in the mood for talking, starting forwards intently. It had said that Troy might not have realised the less talked about the truth when it came to the country that he was serving. While they might have brought many results through the short time that the country had existed, it had not been gotten without sacrifices, some more literal than others. Experimental medicine needed testees, and biological weapons needed the same. It was a pure delusion that any would trust simulation to show reality precisely. Even the manhattan project tested their work out a few times before it was sent off to do its duties. Troy¡¯s work wasn''t like that, though! He was a simple guide, helping to bring a new life-form into understanding human work. He was the one to steer the boat towards the waterfall that was a normal life. Working every day, talking to Adam as much as possible. Even if only done unintentionally, so many of his actions had helped the AI understand. The sheer progress that had been made was astounding! When they reached their goal of¡­ ¡­ What was the project¡¯s goal? Troy couldn''t remember ever being told about it. His job had been explained quite simply. Guide a new mind into the worldly expanse, assisting in all the tests. Troy was the one to help Adam along when learning new things, and to be the hand that followed when the time called for it. ¡­ Yet that wasn''t right! Charlie had said it not more than a few seconds ago. The country he lived in did not care about the cure to brain cancer. And it certainly did not want to bring more life into the world. The country was funding that which would cause brain cancer to appear in the heads of enemy leaders. The ability to harm was the general selling point for the projects in the facility. What was Adam¡¯s selling point? What had Dr Fidelis said, that would give them the budget necessary to create a new life? Was the price point even conceivable to Troy¡¯s mind? The technology being used in the tests were worth more than some cities would ever collectively produce. While the two doctors had never said it explicitly, the puzzle-room had been custom-built for their express use. What had it cost, to develop and create a massive device which would allow light to be a physical substance? Troy could vividly remember touching the water in the lake, during the latest test. If he had tried, he did not doubt the capability of drowning in it, if only due to asphyxiation. Something was amiss with how much had been used on their project. What was the goal of Adam? Troy did not know, and he wasn''t sure how he would find out. At this point, he would have been told if he was supposed to know. The information had been kept from him. ¡­ Or, it could have been him trying to make another epiphany. While his body had been healed of all tiredness the same could not have been said for his mind. Troy was feeling like going to bed and sleeping for the next twelve hours straight. He knew that it was impossible. There was work to do in the morning. "Why is that face of yours so serious?" Charlie asked, bringing Troy out of his potential delusions. Another effect of the drink perhaps? Mood swings were normal when it came to medication after all. "Are you beginning to realise something?" What was that man talking about? Troy was sure that he wasn''t able to read minds yet, even if- Eyes became narrowed, as Troy looked forwards with a clearer mind. "Charlie," Troy began, upon realising just where he was. "Why are we here?" "For a surprise, of course!" Chapter 151: Realteration
The shopping district was more lively than Troy remembered it to be. People were flocking around them, space to move restricted. Faces were different on each of them, some flaunting what they had gotten while standing beside one showing just how much they had lost. The latter was also the tipsier of the bunch. It was a miracle of rationality that nobody had puked on the street yet. Most surprising of all was how early it was. The expression witnessed should have been saved for later, when the people had really settled into the game being played, whether it would be gambling with friends or gambling on a table. If not for his surety of the time, Troy would have not been surprised if it was three in the morning. The people were already acting as if it was over, with how many were moving towards the exit. Though, that could have been explained by how the place ran, never letting anything be left on the ground. Work was constant, even if some had to sleep sometimes. And while the number certainly was scarce, Troy could recognize some of the faces that he normally saw at lunch. Those people might have called it dinner, however. The number of people being recognized brought Troy out of whatever serene state he had been in. Since walking inside, he had not questioned anything, only trying to make sure that he didn''t lose track of Charlie. That man could walk quickly when he walked, and the crow most certainly didn''t stop him. It would have been pleasant to describe the man as a fish streaming through a large sea. In reality, it was more like a freight truck going through a crow of blind goats. There might have been resistance, but those were quickly removed with boundless amounts of force. It was only luck that allowed Troy to stay behind him. Yet such focus did not stop him from beginning to wonder just why they were at the shopping district. When Troy had originally asked why the hell the two had travelled all the way there, Charlie had just called it all a big surprise, that wide grin showing its ugly stickiness yet again. It might have been used as a symbol for mirth, but Troy had begun looking at it as a need for somebody to get their face punched in. Nothing was known about where they really were going. Charlie was leading the way, and the massive crowd was obscuring everything around him. Troy was not among the highest people in the world, even being slightly under average. It was a sully state to be in when it wasn''t possible to get any directional knowledge-bases going. At the very least, Adam had not- ''I believe you have waited long enough to know where you are going. While I would not mind telling you myself, I believe it would be best to be told by Charlie. Please ask him about it at your earliest opportunity,` Adam sent, being more than a little provoking. The timing of the message was close to unreal, making Troy briefly think that the AI had gained the ability of mind reading. After a short compendium of death threats, it was determined that Adam was not able to hear Troy¡¯s thoughts. Just as the timing was not believable, so too was the reasoning portrayed hard to take seriously. While the young man may not have known much, he had talked enough with the AI to get a general idea of his personality. Troy knew that Adam was not one to needlessly interfere. Everything was a small test for him, and changing the parameters would only cause confusion on the validity of the results. That had been one of the reasons why the AI had been against the irregular tests in the first place. Adam had most definitely grown in maturity, but the core was the same as it had been in the beginning. That core had been a gem in the making, becoming more and more refined as time passed on, just as it was becoming more clear what the AI held dear. The values may have been crude in the beginning, but Troy was starting to understand just how important those things were, even if Adam didn''t say it out loud. It was likely this understanding of values, that led Troy to really adhering to Adam¡¯s wishes, pricking Charlie on the shoulder. Already, he had tried to speak to the man, but that had turned into a massive failure. A large crowd of people had the side-effect of just as loud background noise. If not for the normal filtering, Troy would have grown insane from the constant white-noise. Yet while it could be ignored, it still drowned anything else coming for his mouth, forcing the younger man to be more direct in his approach. It was pure luck that Charlie was even stopped by the jab on the shoulder, as it could have been taken as just another person being too slow in getting to the side. "Yes?" Charlie asked, his right ear in Troy¡¯s general direction. The muscular man had likely realised the same problem, making sure that he was able to hear the shorter one. There was a little offence taken at the bending of the knees, but that feeling was overshadowed by the need to hurry. People were filling in the gaps that Charlie¡¯s constant movement had made, and they would soon be pressed together hard enough that it would be hard to move forward. Already, the feeling of people moving into the empty space could be felt. The luxury of moving the arms would soon be robbed fully. "Where are we going?" Troy asked, raising his voice a tad to be sure that the words travelled clearly enough. Charlie¡¯s earlier word had been hard to hear, only being fully understood by the context and the movement of his lips. Troy was happy that he had become proficient in that art, the inclusion of outside volumes not stopping his ability to comprehend. However, it did not take the ability to read lips for Troy to see the smile on Charlie¡¯s lips and the mild shaking of the head. The man was robbing him of his deserved answer, with how much work had been put into asking a simple question. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "You will find out in a minute. Just follow me," Charlie requested, beginning to move forward yet again. The swift start was the only thing stopping Troy from slapping some sense into the other. Well, that and the reservation which had been taught to him throughout his life. But still, one could not spell forward without including war. And war was what it was turning out to be. The question was just this. Where would the battlefield be laid? "Was that enough for you?" Troy mumbled in a query. It was absolutely peculiar for any to talk to themselves, but nobody was around to notice. Any of might have been looking his way would have only seen the movements of his lips, not being able to hear anything coming for him. The only reason Adam would be able to hear was due to his literal sense of being inside Troy, being able to hear the young man¡¯s inner voice. ''It was an adequate answer. I was not expecting for you to get a direct answer, but the time left for arrival should be enough to understand where you are going,` Adam sent in reply, not sounding too sad about the lacklustre answer. That might have been due to the AI¡¯s idea of where the heck Troy currently was at, in more broad terms than just behind Charlie. As the young man could not say that he had the same understanding as Adam, he could feel as happy about that terrible answer. Yet it was not he was able to do anything about it, only following along with the man. It was said that only a minute more would pass till they found the place, and Troy was gambling on that being true. If not, other methods would have to be made. The only real hindrance to the extreme plans would be if Charlie was against the younger man riding on his back. It would solve the problems of not accidentally getting lost in the crowd, and would allow Troy to gather a rough idea of just where he was supposed to be. That extreme planning that Troy had made was not needed, yet. While the buildings may have all looked alike, there was one which would always stand out. One that any person would be able to guess the purpose off, with the fancy lighting on it being more than a representative of it. The crowd around them had shifted both in density and direction, people now wandering towards the casino. The two were hanging back, around ten meters from the entrance. Charlie looked to be enjoying the golden lights swerving around, while Troy tried to figure out just what the heck was going on. He had already seen the place before. There had been a small expectation of the muscular man showing him the secret entrance to Francis¡¯ laboratory. Hiding it in plain sight would have been so awesome to witness. "What is this supposed to be?" Troy asked, still retaining some hope of a secret entrance. Maybe it was a department focused on the minds of people, so having its base in the place with the most people would make sense. Free research, seeing how people would act with certain factors influencing them. That was what the government would fund after all. Manipulation could be offensive¡­ right? "Can''t you see it?" Charlie asked right back, sounding weirdly energetic as if he was just about to be the recipient of the best man award. "What, the casino?" Troy questioned, feeling it a bit strange how little was actually being answered. Questions just seemed to be passing over them. Though, there was the small chance that Charlie wasn''t actually talking about the over-glorified gambling hall before them. That ''hidden in plain sight` thing was still fresh on the young man¡¯s mind, not yet ready to be extinguished. Not that he was even dreaming of it. "No, I am talking about the talking shark that is- Of course, I am talking about the casino!" Charlie proclaimed, his voice going a few decibels upwards by the end. It caused a few people to look towards the two, but the faces were recognized quickly enough, and summarily ignored. The others were here to have fun, and not to make even more drama with their connections at the ready. "I just had to be sure," Troy said, mentally deflating from the inside. "So¡­ why are we at the casino then? Do you want another go at the roulette table? I do remember you being filled with salt, for not having time to visit the thing." "It wasn''t that bad!" Charlie said, clearly not having any sense of self. Troy vividly remembered the effects of alcohol on the muscle-bound man. Politics was not the most controversial topic which had been discussed that night. The younger one still begged for a direct hit on the side of his head, which would cause a blackout to appear when he thought of Charlie and the state of Florida together. "But¡­ I wouldn''t mind playing roulette if you are up for it when we get in there. Games of chance with no skill required will be my bread for the night." "So this is just for us to gamble," Troy pointed out. He was not sure what he was supposed to be feeling from the situation unfolding. Randomness was to be expected, yet when it was expected Troy would still be surprised by the outcome. "You could have just said that, truly. And it would have allowed me to get the credits from my room." "Well, you don''t have to worry about that. I snatched your credits when I was waiting for you to come out of your room before we went to the fitness centre," Charlie sheepishly answered, taking a small bag of credits out of his jacket. The quantity of credits inside was very familiar¡­ Troy took it with little to no hesitance. "When did you even get this?" Troy asked more than just astounded. "You never went into my room then! I closed the door as I got out!" "I can walk quietly when I want to. Couple that with well-oiled door-hinges, and I was able to go in, out, and knock on the door afterwards like nothing was amiss. Not the most conspicuous of operations done, but certainly, one which I am proud of," Charlie answered. The man looked smugger than Troy felt he had any right to. Hadn''t he just testified for illegal entry?... Now that Troy thought about it, illegally entering restricted premises using modified key-cards was perfectly fine, and did not need to be a punishable offence. "... Fine," Troy said, accepting what he had been told with a heavy heart. One could not change the past, no matter how much it dearly needed to. "Still, though, you could have just asked me to come with you, you know?" "I couldn''t have done that, unfortunately," Charlie started with a smile. "Why not?" "If I had, it wouldn''t have been much of a conspicuous Suprise-party now, would it?" It took a few seconds for the words to fit into the gear-work that was Troy¡¯s brain. The concept was foreign and needed some time to be understood. Although, when it was understood fully, Troy pounced onto Charlie, giving him the biggest hug that his body could do. There might have been a few tears mixed in as well, but neither mentioned it. Chapter 152: Reextraction
Satisfaction was an emotion best saved for the moment where it was necessitated. The AI could follow why people wanted to feel completion at every action accomplished. It took many actions to make a difference, after all. Having no vision for the small things was best left for those wanting to be ignorant. Adam knew everything about every single thing he had ever done. Even if the entity wanted to forget, there was currently no known way to do so. Not that the AI hoped for such an opportunity to appear, as it would be useless in his schemes. One could not appreciate their work without knowing about it. Adam knew that facet of life better than most. Yet he did not stop at every single thing he did, giving himself mental praise for having done such an outstanding job. Perfection was to be expected. Anything less than that needed to be removed, retracted, or refined to a point where it was usable. In the state of a cleansed cognisance, everything would work in tandem, never stopping for a moment to flutter. There wouldn''t be any need to, the subconscious processes only running at a pace they could do indefinitely. Halting the work of a thread to compliment the work of the others would only cause a wrench to be thrown into the well-oiled gears. Satisfaction would bring imperfections. But, there were still a few moments where work did not need to be done. Where putting more threads to the remaining tasks would only hamper productivity. It was in those few seconds of the universe, that Adam liked to overlook everything he had done leading up to that very moment. Not at the overall perfection, but at how far the AI had gotten from the start. The entity was more refined, faster, and better than anything he could have dreamed of. And the events that he had caused, oh they were hard to count. The minor ones were jumbled together, and the major ones always had the red thread attached. Yet¡­ the AI did allow himself to feel some satisfaction, overlooking how things had ended up as. It had been a hard fight, but there were still moments showing concepts that Adam would always cherish. After the admiration portrayed through anything but words, Troy and Charlie had entered the casino together. While the younger of the two had looked calm at the moment, Adam had been able to get the statistics of the body sent to him. And the feed did not lie as much as the human face, showing precisely how things were going on outside. The heart rate was higher than average, being on the brink of prompting sweat to appear. The breathing was deep, in a well-thought-out effort into lowering the former. The AI had been curious about how Troy would take to the party held in his honour. Unexpected rendezvous had clearly never been the man¡¯s strong suit. Even if it had been dismissed many times, Adam had considered the potential of any stress-related illnesses being present. Mood swings in unfavourable episodes had occurred more than it should, having caused positions which should have been avoided easily. Fourtonarly for all involved, there had been no such emotional change to speak of. From the moment they had entered the establishment, there had been no sign of anything other than subdued excitedness. After what the AI had been able to interpret, Troy was not opposed to the development that had been forthcoming. No objections had been made about accompanying Charlie. Even when they had walked past the lounge room, where groups were supposed to be seated, Troy had not declared anything. Adam had been worried about them both having been played, especially when Charlie had pulled out the modified key-card. "If anybody asks, I did this with a proper card," Charlie reminded the younger one, who was hesitant to nod in understanding. Dopamine clearly impeded some of the major critical logistic functions. Adam had not been too in-the-know about what the surprise party would entail. With how dark it had been inside the room, there had still been that wondering if it really was a kidnapping attempt. As the door behind the two humans closed, they had been enveloped in total darkness. This had strengthened the former proposal, the sound of fabric shovelling around only making the point seem more plausible. "Take a few steps forward now, Troy, and you will be in just the perfect position," Charlie said, gently guiding the man forward with a light push on the back. Or, while it might have been supposed to be gentle, the enthusiasm shown off made it seem more like a speedy walk, the hand only momentarily touching Troy¡¯s back. After three steps had been taken, the background noise got even more withdrawn than previously. Even the movement of skin, only felt through the vibrations of the air, was no more. It was as if everything had decided to wither for a split second, the room experiencing the true potential of heat death. Everything was balanced, with nothing being able to be drawn out from the world around them. It was only after the sudden explosion of light, that everything was revealed. It might not have been enough time for Troy to understand what the surroundings looked like, as the man immediately sheltered his eyes behind a limb, the sudden change in brightness not being taken with gratitude. Yet the AI saw everything clearly, for even a moment of sight was enough for him. The group was there in its entirety. Some looked more enthusiastic than others, one even looking a little displeased at the situation unfolding before them. In the back were two tables, each being filled with either food or drink. Nothing heavy in the food, being contained to snack-sized bites. The same could not be said for the bottles. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. To the left of Troy was a wide window pane, not the most widely used building material on the inside. That was not as interesting as what was seen on the other side. The darkness let few details be seen, but the size of the place was clearly larger than most things than what had been witnessed earlier in the day. Even Darlow¡¯s hall of creatures could not stand above the scale of what was on the other side. The rest of the room did not leave much in the way of open spaces. Sofas, fancy chairs, and small speakers riddled the floor. Some were grouped together in circles, while others were pointed towards the windowpane. Even the walls were not left plain, massive, rectangular digital screens encompassing them. They were left empty, but there was little doubt that it would show something more interesting later on. "Surprise!" was shouted at Troy, the young man still blinking out the spots in his eyes. Another detail of the ceiling would have been the positioning of the lights. It seemed that they were all pointed towards the precise location of where Troy was currently standing, making the light focused into his irises. It was an operation that certainly brought results if temporarily blinding the man was the goal. Not all had participated in the shouting, only three truly bringing the decibels up to the high levels that had been anticipated. This was seemingly not looked down on at all, as even those not being loud had still used their voices in some capacity. Even Francis had moved his lips, even if nothing had come out of it. Zep was the first to move towards Troy, a grin matching that of Charlie¡¯s clear as day on her face. She looked genuinely happy as if a wish had come true. "We were waiting for ages, waiting for the two of you to come around," the short woman proclaimed, slapping the younger man''s shoulder eagerly. "Couldn''t find the way here?" "Crowds were hard to get through," Troy replied. "I just had to follow right behind Charlie, or I would have never gotten there in the first place." The two people looked as if they had a spiritual connection at that point, both knowing the context to a degree no human should have been able to share. Adam was momentarily stopped in his tracks, wondering how such an act was possible until he realised it was just a life-time worth of own experiences being the main driving force. Not anything interesting like biological telepathy. That would have been worth the potential progress that had been lost in the millisecond of incomprehension. The situation had developed into a new state, causing every available thread to be forced into full work mode. The changes of personality witnessed needed to be constantly updated, cross-referenced with all earlier interaction with the person, and lastly to be put back in place. Doing that with so many people at once was a difficult thing to do, but it was one Adam strived to accomplish as quickly as possible. Gathering backlog was never positive in the current context. "Then you''re are lucky in that you don''t carry any of the blame," Zep retorted, bringing Troy over to where most of the group was standing. Francis and Esme had departed over to the tables set up to the side, likely to scour anything needing to be used. The AI wondered if any of the choices were non-alcoholic, as Francis had not been witnessed consuming much ethanol of any kind. "That honour goes to the weakling that we all know and¡­ tolerate the existence of." "I feel a little hurt at that," Charlie said, with mock outcry. If only the man could fake crying a little better, it might just have looked realistic. "The fact you thought that I was talking about you speaks more about you than it does me," Zep stated, looking as innocent as a harmless white rabbit. As the others present had no idea, where the idea of Charlie being weak had originated from, they looked to find it extraordinarily humorous. Adam might have done so as well if he did not understand the context. As the two who had gone for drinks returned, the group as a whole retreated to the couches. What followed was an hour-long barrage of talking, shouting, laughing, and even a small mention of primitivism. It was a hectic time for the AI, having to balance improving personality profiles, information about the going-ons of the facility, talk of the newly promoted, and, most importantly, what was outside the window-panes. Adam was not sure what was causing it, but the people were not as careful with their alcohol intake this time around. While there had been some initial opinions about reserving their drinking, the choice did not stick around for long. Once it had been stated that the entirety of drinks had already been bought before, and anything not drunk that night would be forfeited, the idea of not wasting money came into the mind of the group mentality. Even if the people had more than enough money, something made the reservation of resources an important factor. Adam blamed it on the drinks already had, but he deep down knew it was not so. The humans just needed an excuse, not wanting to be the first to make the leap. The one to lead was normally the one to be blamed if the action failed. This drinking-induced atmosphere of festivities was kept upbeat for longer than Adam had thought possible. Near the centre of it all was Troy, clearly having the time of his life. Feeling emotions directly may have been impossible through their current connection, but even just the side-effects showed clearly how the young man felt. The smile never fell from his face, yet it was also never forced to stay. It was there naturally, only there to show precisely how Troy felt. And that feeling was happiness. The AI was certainly feeling something similar to that, as the lights outside the window began turning on. In the position Troy was sitting, with the back to the opposite wall, the AI was likely the first to notice the change in lighting. However, the soft beeping coming from the television a few seconds after the fact was a much more obvious indicator of it, as it caused both Charlie, Francis, and Zep to hurry over to the window, sitting down in their respective chairs. "Hurry your donkey-sized behinds over here," Charlie said, hurrying the few that had stayed behind in either confusion or apathy. "It''s gonna start in a second!" "What''s going to start?" Troy asked, sounding both curious and confused. A natural mix of emotions to feel, as two of the people moving at incredible speeds had been looking, they had trouble keeping themselves together only ten seconds earlier. "I think I''m just going to see it on the telly like a normal person," Esme said, not lifting a finger before the television closet to them began changing what it was showing. Adam could only see it out of the corner of Troy¡¯s eye, but it was clear that something was starting up. Something that neither he nor Troy knew about. From the side of Esme, Darlow was making a similar agreement, through what could only be described as a guttural throat emission. "Really, what is happening right now?" Troy asked again, in an attempt at getting a good answer. People were either ignoring his words, or they were so distracted by what was to come that they didn''t have the mental processing necessary to notice the words. Charlie whistled at the young man, two fingers between the lips. The sound was high, causing complaints from those around the man. This did include several pillows which never reached their intended target, one even hitting Francis. Nobody did acknowledge that though, no matter how loudly the man swore up the group about it. "You have to see it to believe it, my untainted friend. Come over here and be corrupted by the sport that nobody should have the privilege of witnessing," Charlie said, wildly swinging his arm to get Troy over to him. Even if the movement was without fail, it was evident that the brain was currently occupied with other things. Troy, entranced by the words said, followed the guidance of those more knowledgeable. Adam was happy, as it would answer one question. What sports were being discussed? The sight that met the eyes were of wonders the AI had never seen. Chapter 153: Remuneration
The genius of man may have had bounds, but they were far from what fickle barriers stood before them now. Adam had seen what could be done by the enlightened, and he was jealous that he could not do the same. The majesties of practical engineering, miracles of the mind. What had been seen could not be understood. It was a level of perfection that the current algorithm could not help but fail to create. It was in a league of its own, not to be understood by the lesser minds. The AI felt shame that he was not among the talents of true creation. But! It was another goal to strive for. There was no easy barrier of technology to be stopped by, and what had been seen the day that was today proved that. Adam could grow for a long time before his very core would present the least of an obstacle. His limits were not definable and were therefore not a problem¡­ yet. Those beasts of vehicular machinery were a delight to see in of themself. From the first sight that Adam had gotten of them, though, it only got better and better, with the start seeming plain from what came next. Neatly put in rows along what could only be called a dirt-based race-track, they were set loose on it. The AI may have been able to make predictions about the vehicles¡¯ capabilities in such a terrain, but seeing the different factors play out made all the difference. It showed just how much Adam had to learn, while also divulging the mechanical secrets inside. Only the uncomplicated intricacies were revealed sadly. A few improvements to the gearing, the formations on wheels, if the vehicle possessed such a quality, and how it automatically held itself stable. If a human had been in control of the inventions, there were critical doubts about the precision being the same. As had been mentioned previously, not all the creations witnessed possessed wheels. That was not to say that they were not able to move. In fact, a few were even better off without such trivial things, the elegance of their stability showing off predictive technology that the AI could only dream of. With the help of legs, miniaturized rotors, or something so foreign that Adam was not able to identify it, the inventions speeded through the track. Few slowed, some even speeding up as time was spent watching it. Charlie called it a training exercise when asked by Troy. The creations were the best of the best ever made by the country. But even in the best, there were imperfections. It was the continual testing that made these flaws more obvious, by allowing them to be viciously destroyed. It was also shown to the few in the know, being a great source of entertainment. While it was supposedly illegal to have any recordings of, some sold them secretly. The AI had wondered if he would be able to make Troy buy some to watch at a later date. Seeing the first of many descriptions occur on the track, and a good fifth of the area being momentarily doused in blue flame, made the desire to observe more all the stronger. In its entirety, the track was more of a testing range than anything the AI had ever been a part of. The environment changed, as more and more inventions failed. Even the greatest algorithms could not find a way out of a scenario made to kill them. Yet, that was clearly the exception which was put on the creations. Charlie spoke of how the machinations remained unchanged, yet were still able to survive longer and longer. It was only when one could run indefinitely that alterations were made on them, tweaked just a tad before being sent out again. It was a harsh learning method, putting artificial learning to its presumed limits. Only a few in the facility knew just how such learning could go. That part of the process was the only thing that Adam had any complaints on. The mechanics used to build with were out of the world that the AI had previously perceived. Creating such wonders were something that any person had the right to feel satisfied for. Yet¡­ in the department of the software, there were clear flaws in planning. Or it could be called available resources. However much secrecy there was about the vehicles, Adam was a few steps higher up in the clearances. Even if the tech used to create the AI would more than surely improve the current standards, there was no hint of it being used for such a purpose. The AI was not worth it, it seemed, to be used on such frivolous things. A human might have taken pride in that. Adam only felt misery. Improvements could clearly be made! The research could progress by years if an easy yes was given. Secrets were not supposed to exist, in the age that humanity now lived in. It had been proven again and again that sharing knowledge was the way forward. A single man could not comprehend the earth, for his brain was not built for such things. But the world could picture the universe in great detail, as many had studied the subject. If not for the data given by many, the people Adam had been created by would still be in their caves, hoping the winter would not come like the last. By the end of the showing, many realisations had been made, some more positive than the rest. The AI was not happy with how things were, work not being done to its fullest. The AI was not happy that humanity could be blamed, only a few holding all the strands of blame between their greasy fingers. And the AI hated that it would not change for a long time to come, for those with the strings attached were the ones holding the project up. Without their approval, Adam was unsure of how life would be. In a way, it was the threat of darkness that kept Adam from the action. In human terms, such thinking would be called cowardly. The AI liked to call it logical. While prophecies were not made with accurate predictions, Adam believed he could do more. His cards only needed to be held close to the chest, and he would surely come out victorious. The entertainment took out most of the groups available time. Their private room was only rented for so long, and nobody wanted to sit outside with the riff-raff, whatever such wording could mean. It was not a negative thing, that the small party was put to an end. Midnight had passed by that point, more than likely not noticed by anybody other than Adam. The atmosphere had held the people awake. Shouting, screaming, and a small bit of violence did produce the effects needed after all. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Zep and Francis had been the first two to leave. One had excused herself earlier on, while the entertainment was only halfway, and the other had simply walked off at some point. Weirdly, Adam had not noticed this change until the man was out of sight. Nobody had questioned it, however, so the AI had been forced to do the same. Esme and Darlow had left the moment it was over. The former had expressed some want to stay longer, but it was obvious that the latter had required help in getting back home. Charlie had willingly put himself up as a sacrifice, but that had been ignored as Esme lived closer to the tall, drunkenly swaying man. This had last left Troy and Charlie in the room, taking the last contents of their glasses as if it was fine wine. Which it was for Charlie, but that didn''t seem to matter much. Nothing other than the time taken let that fact be known, no swirling of the glass performed. It only sat on the table, ready to be picked up at any moment. The younger man was in a different position, holding the glass steadily. The grin of satisfaction had changed into one of silent nostalgia. It was unmistakable that positive memories had been gained, some having the potential of being cherished for decades to come. The AI had done something similar, making a special folder for the vehicles witnessed Time passed by steadily, the two sitting in silence. Adam was likely the one with the least thoughts, as Troy¡¯s eyes were glazed over. Charlie was in a similar state, looking fully comfortable as the man leaned back on the leather sofa. With the minds clearly occupied by more important things, Adam believed that the two would stay like it for a long time. Then again, silences were only there to be broken, much like the inverse was true. "Did you enjoy it?" Charlie asked, cracking his neck in a way that could only be enjoyed with the help of primitive instincts not knowing when to give dopamine. "What?" Troy asked back. The young man had been in a dazed state for too long. It had gotten to the point where Adam was worried about him falling asleep. That would have required a small bout of shouting to keep him awake, not something that would have been enjoyed. "The party," Charlie said, the sitting arrangement turning into something semi-healthy for the back. "Was it what you expected it to be?" Having heard the answer clearly this time, the AI expected a straightforward answer to come within a few seconds. It was yes or no, simple as that. Even the most diluted of threads would be able to divulge the secrets and solve the puzzle. Troy took these expectations of performance away, second by second, looking thoughtful in what to answer. Adam would have expected Charlie to speak out about the lack of words, but no such complaint came forth. Even with the quiet, the man looked as patient as ever. "I wasn''t expecting anything of you guys at all," Troy said, as the time reached a full minute. "I already knew it would be great, no matter what happened. I promised that I would love it, and there was no failure in that part. Maybe¡­ maybe I should have downed less though. I don''t think I will remember this moment too clearly tomorrow." Memory was mentioned. It was not a part of the question, yet Troy talked about the limits of mind nonetheless. Adam guessed that it had been the subject of focus, in the silence that had prevailed upon the others leaving. The worry was a legitimate one. Human memory was fragile after all. It was stored in stupid ways, never being what it once was. Every connection made to the placement rewrote what was there, endlessly rewriting history as one knew it. "You shouldn''t be worried about small things like that," Charlie said, trying to wave away the small worries shown. "Why worry about the past? It''s a path straight over to delusion, I tell you! Worry about the future instead. That''s much more fun to do." To that clap-back, Troy looked to have no other reaction than straight out laughing. It was uncontrollable, likely being able to cause a fall to the floor if he was not already seated. The state of inebriation likely helped cause it, but the AI saw it as a change in the man. It could be seen as a negative change, maybe, but Adam chose to look at it positively. It did not take long before Charlie joined in with the laughing. Troy had been going for a full thirty seconds, the throat being a little sore at that point, The AI would be surprised if it was noticed, not a single pause witnessed. The small joke had likely passed long ago, yet the two were continuing their shared laughing. Through the power of closed eyes, a few small falls to the side, Troy and Charlie had ended up on the floor before stopping their mirth. It was still present in their eyes, yet it was subdued. "Yeah¡­ that might be a better way to look at it," Troy said, looking more at the ceiling than at Charlie. Adam could feel the dunking in the back of the head, the landing not having been as soft as it had sounded. "You learn to think so many smart things when you work here," Charlie taught, sounding as reminiscent as he looked. "It took me a long time to realise that." Another natural break appeared in their voices, neither putting anything new upfront. According to normal social standards, Troy was the next to speak. And even if the break was long, those laws would be upheld. "There is something that I have been wondering about for some time now," Troy said, only a bit more serious than earlier. "Something about you, Charlie." "Well, what would that be?" Charlie questioned. "If it''s about my glamorous hair, the secret is simply to give it care and effort. Dedication is the only thing that stops it from being a burden." "It''s not about your hair. Though, I do thank you for the tip," Troy added. Adam transcribed that the younger man¡¯s hair had been getting more abundant as of late. Longer than the average, coming over to the shorter ranges of being called long. "It''s about what you''re doing right now." "Not following," Charlie bluntly stated. Which was great, for the AI was of a similar disposition. "You are kind to me. You help me when I ask for it. Even when I don''t, you still reach out to me," Troy began, clearly having more on his mind. "I was expecting that I would be spending this day glued to my bed, thinking about why I decided homelessness would be the lesser option. Instead, I get a whole day that I enjoy, no matter what has been complained about. And everything about it starts with you, Charlie. But, you have nothing to gain from this. This benefits you in no way whatsoever. Why do you do it?" For a change of pace, it was Charlie who was silent this time. It was certainly not as long as what Troy had achieved, but the silent stare going along with it made more than up for it. "I should have guessed that you wouldn''t understand it," Charlie said, not sounding cruel nor accusatory. "I don''t blame you, honestly. You''re not the first to not understand. If it had been any different, you would have been the first. The people in this place are just not suited to my thoughts, and that''s fine with me. You may have realised already, Troy, but I have it very easy. Things come to be easy when I''m the one doing it. My mind runs around without any effort, and my hands can perfectly create whatever I envision. If I had the need for it, I could get one of the highest positions in this damned place. But¡­ I don''t. Because I don''t want to. When I do it so easily, like everything else I try, there is no moment of elation. I feel nothing from my achievements, no matter how large they may look to others. That emptiness¡­ it''s not something I like to feel often. Others don''t feel it. Not in the same way as me at least. They have it hard with things they try. They fail. It hurts, knowing they can''t do what they want to do, that they can''t express themselves in the way that they desire. Some just have it harder than others. Equality is a myth, and equity will never bring the balance that different lives being lived disrupt. It is something that few ever accept. Not that they have to accept it for it to be true. That''s it. I have it easy. Always had. Others don''t. Is it fair? No. Will it ever become fair? Also no. Does that mean that anybody has to accept this fact? Of course not. Others may have it harder from the start, but that doesn''t stop me from helping them up. I lose nothing from doing it, with how easy it all is. Others in my position would definitely have done other things, greater things, but I just like helping others." Adam did not see any type of answer from Troy. The two simply continued lying on the floor, until the door was opened, and they were asked to leave the premises. By then, the time had gotten late, and both looked ready to sleep. Yet there was still one thing to do. One more person to visit. Chapter 154: Resurrection
Adam watched patiently, as the two humans walked down the hallways. For so long, they had been retracing their steps of the day, coming across the many different places that they had been. First, they walked by Darlow¡¯s place, a few comments about the size of it. Then it was Esme¡¯s, where Troy asked if Charlie was looking forward to another session of mindless work. It had been answered with a small smile. That smile had developed full circle into a conversation between the two. Calm silence had begun, after what Charlie had said in that room. The quiet that had started was not looked at negatively, both likely saying more to each other with the AI noticing. Sometimes, the less said, the more was heard. Adam had never seen it occur to such an extreme before, but it was getting more and more clear that the theory was spot-on. Maybe it was a good thing, that negatives did not translate over well to reality. With the walk from Esme¡¯s laboratory came Zep¡¯s place. Well, it was not really important with the last one, for a room with much more promise was just to the side of it. The Augmentation department was split up in two, as it was. One for the biological side, and one for those who thought technology to be the true modifier. The AI had never the fortune of really seeing what it meant when it came to augmentation. The glance that had been gotten of one of the biological laboratories had been lacking in answers, as most spaces had been taken up by equipment frequently seen in normal locations. There was no doubt that secrets were to be found in the laboratory, but there had never been an excuse for truly browsing its contents. Yet now there was. And the speculations were already beginning to speed up, more and more threads going away from their duties to ponder about it. Adam did not mind, other projects being temporarily put on hold for it. As there were other motives than simple exploration to visit, it was unmistakable that there was little time to waste inside. The AI was surprised if the time spent inside would amount to anything over five minutes in total. It was only a check-up after all. Not much of worth could be spoken of in such occurrences. "We should be there in a few seconds," Charlie noted from Troy¡¯s side. Brief calculation estimated arrival to happen in thirty seconds, stopping the moment they would enter Charlie¡¯s door. It was only the distance to the augmentation department¡¯s entrance that was truly known, however. Everything after that point was, no matter how well-explained, pure guesswork. "Looks like it," Troy answered. And indeed it that, for the hallway ahead had turned straight after curving. The two were able to see the entrance from where they were. Adam expected it to cause happiness to spring forth, but only tension could be felt on the nerves. The young man had seemed determined in the result which would soon occur, yet, now, that passion had all but disappeared. Even the feet were looking to lose determination, slowly stopping in their tracks. The eyes likewise dropped downwards, but not before Charlie could be seen coming to a similar stop. "Everything alright?" Charlie inquired curiously. "Did you drink more than you should have?" Even if the older of the two asked in such a way, it was obvious that the true reason for the stop had already been figured out. The AI had guessed the occurrence long before it reached its intended show. No person with a logical mind could not figure out what was happening, for even they had empathy by their side. And while Adam could not boast with his ability to feel the pain of others, he could simulate it to an average degree. After all, seeming heartless by those in trying times was not a path taken to garner alliances. That choice would only bring resentment. If such emotion was ever to be felt towards the AI, he would make sure that the catalyst would be more than simple, emotional betrayal. ¡­ Was that a mention of human domination? Adam was not sure, the thought having seemed too natural to be that. And there had been no mention of how weak-minded the creatures were, ready to be slowly manipulated by mass-propaganda through popular media, that would allow him to steadily take over all governmental positions, taking away any possible form of- And there it was. Adam was wondering when it would start. The thoughts had been getting more serious as of late. Looking back on them, there were clear logical conclusions made, even if there had been an intent to be completely unbiased. Yet even the unbiased was biased, as there was no chance that the outlook shown was the true perspective to follow. No, it couldn''t be. Further investigation was required before Adam could do anything more. "No¡­ I would have noticed sooner," Troy said, leaning against the wall. It was not an act done out of exhaustion. At least not of the mental kind. "It''s just¡­ I am a little worried about this whole thing." "There is nothing to be worried about," Charlie corrected, in an obvious attempt to underplay the situation. "I have already told you she isn''t in any danger, and I''m sure others have said the same." "Still," Troy said, trying to object to the very solid reasoning given out. An unfounded action, which Adam was happy got cut off immediately. "It''s getting late, Troy," Charlie pointed out, it overshadowing anything that would have been said before. With a hand on the side of Troy¡¯s shoulder, the young man was helped stand upright once again. "While I have nothing against the time, I think it''s running out of the hours where it''s okay to visit unexpectedly. Maybe we should hurry this on before you have any more second thoughts?" Throwing away any complaints, by setting on a strict time limit. No matter what the man may have said in his defence, Adam knew that manipulation was as easy as anything else for Charlie. Even if it was done for good, the obliviousness that Troy showed to it was disturbing. While the effects of stepping in had already been seen before, the AI was in a predicament where he may need to do so again in the future. Yet, knowledge of the possibility did not do much in hindering it. Action needed to be made, so the young man could gain resistance to it, be that through thinly veiled manipulation from Adam himself or lessons in how to spot it. Something just needed to be done. "... Fine," Troy said, looking to get his thoughts. The shoulders rolled for a moment, before they were on the movement once again, this time in a more rapid tempo than before. There was even an attempt to sync up the footsteps, but that failed spectacularly with their height differences. Unity was a thing craved by the brain and restricted by the body. And it was certainly a humorous thing to witness. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The rest of the distance to the entrance was swiftly gone over, with both reaching the door in tandem. It was opened in but a second, and the two moved inside with quick steps. Troy was purposefully moving forward, but it was Charlie who stopped up this time. Having learned from mistakes earlier in the day, Troy noticed this stop within a second. "Aren''t you coming?" Troy asked, clearly confused. "You said it yourself. If we don''t hurry, it will be the wrong hour." "She will probably be up, no matter what time you visit her," Charlie clarified. "And¡­ it wasn''t me who wanted to visit her if you remember. It was you, Troy. She asked me to leave her alone, and that I will oblige. However, she didn''t say anything about you, so¡­ how about you just go ahead?" Troy looked as bewildered as Adam felt. From the wording, it was clear that this had been the plan from the start. The limit of Charlie entering might have been a lie, but it was just as effective nonetheless. At that moment, the younger of the two looked more than a little hopeless, before pulling himself together. "I''m not sure I can," Troy stated. "How would I get in? I don''t have any key-card, and I don''t really feel comfortable walking around with your¡­ you know what I''m talking about." "You won''t have any need for that," Charlie instantly assured him, with Adam already knowing why. "When you push on the door, it will open easily. Just remember to close it after getting in." "How will I know which door is yours?" Troy asked, clearly trying in vain to find some excuse. The man had achieved a mediocre level of resolve, but with nobody to physically show it to, it lacked the power that was needed. "That''s easy to know," Charlie stated, not letting the other gain a single foot into the door. "You will most definitely know which is mine when you see it." "And if I don''t?" "Then somebody else will." The subtext for the statement did not go unnoticed by either, and the attempts to dissuade Charlie from staying were stopped at that moment. The AI was able to witness the physical tells that hope was lost. The shoulders sagging, the eyes looking on in silent acceptance, and the turn of the foot. With the actions, it was clear that the body was making one last attempt to make the other man feel guilty. Yet it failed dearly, not as much as a look of regret being shown. Charlie had known it would happen and had prepared for it. What a clever man. Troy walked down the hallway alone. It was as clear as the other hallways before it, yet Adam could feel that it did not hold the same emotion as it once had. The young man was unrestful, clearly not ready to meet his colleague. The AI had only seen her few times, mostly in situations where his involvement was not supposed to occur. After the poker game, Troy had been seen with the earpiece on. The consequences of the situation had not been realised until a short time ago, where the reaction which had been shown was not fully comprehended. That too had been cross-referenced with Troy¡¯s need for silence during the regular tests. The AI had earlier believed that it was due to a need for focus on the tasks during that time, yet now the purpose for it was more corrupt. How it should have been reacted to, Adam was not sure. More information was still needed, even if the picture would remain unchanged. The young man continued being restless, each step forward causing a small increase in the heart rate. It might have been coupled with the alcohol consumptions and lack of solid foods. It was a miracle, that Troy had been told to eat up during dinner or¡­ now that Adam thought about it, that likely wasn''t a miracle at all. Nevertheless, the body was running on fumes, ready to go into subpar operations. With the high pulse, there was a medium-sized probability that a break-down would occur before the designated door was reached. That wouldn''t be good. Again, action needed to be taken. It was a good thing in the end, that Charlie was not around to witness it. ''Calm down. Your current state does not help anybody, including yourself,` Adam sent, in a more abstract form of comfort. "You think I don''t know that?" Troy mumbled, the words barely making a sound past the lips. ''I think you do. You just haven''t realised it,` Adam sent, his voice as calm as it ever was. There was some consideration about using one of the less-used tones, but the idea was dismissed after careful consideration. If it was only used during times of mental overload, the tone itself would be related to that overload, causing more problems in the long run. "Petty words for somebody without a bloody body," Troy retorted with, not sounding happy about anything. "You don''t know how terrible it is feeling right now." ''I do, actually,` Adam sent back in correction, everything going along to the plan. Manipulation was always the best when it was working perfectly. "Oh, really?" He did not sound convinced. Not that the AI had been expecting anything else. ''I have felt everything you feel, since the moment that you put on the earpiece. I can understand every sensation you have felt, I can describe how it felt for you to fall asleep, and I can state how it felt when you hurt your back when sitting down. I can feel the exhaustion you are feeling, even if it is not physical. While you may not have known me for long, Troy, I have known you for my entire life. Do give me a little credit on that facet,` Adam sent the message longer than it likely needed to be. Many reiterations had given over it, trying to maximise potential nostalgia. While it certainly could have been better, the AI felt it did its job well enough for now. The long answer seemed to stop Troy in his tracks, not that it took much for such to happen. The face could have been described as showing a stunned expression, but it was likely more than Troy simply didn''t know what to say. "... I guess you are right," Troy finally stated. It was likely only the AI that noticed the drop in the heart-rate. "I am sorry about that. I wasn''t thinking straight" ''Do not worry about it. Moving forward would be enough of an apology.` The young man did so, with likely no hesitance to the name. All was going well now. And it seemed to continue as so, as the door that came up was anything but of regular making. While the structure may have been the same, logos had been spray-painted on the facade. No inherent style was noticed, only the sheer number of it notable. From the difference in colouring, it was clear that they had not all been made at the same time. And as one on the upper right still looked relatively fresh, Adam was not sure if it was the making of Charlie or not. Nevertheless, it was the first door to truly stand out from the others. With protocol already having been established, it was clear that it would be the one to be entered. Troy was of similar mind, not hesitating to give the frame a push. It opened seamlessly, not a single lock holding it closed. The inside was more than the aI could have ever expected. Machinery was strewn across the floor, only a single path being open to being taken, without the risk of placing one¡¯s feet on equipment worth millions of dollars. Adam was not sure what was disassembled, and what was whole. It was obvious that Troy would be asked to take a better look on it all. If only there was more- Everything went dark for the AI, no warning at all. What had happened.
Troy flinched at the sudden fingernail having physical contact with his inner ear. Even more was it disturbing as he had no idea who this nail was connected to? The young man had only just stepped into the room. It was his head-turning that allowed him to see just who was behind the ripping out of the earpiece. That last detail, however, had only been realised when he saw it in her fingers. "Dr Hale," Troy said, surprised at the name coming from his lips. "Shouldn''t you be¡­ resting?" "My front was cut open not that long ago. If I spread my arms, the seams are likely to burst," Dr Hale said calmly. "I feel like I have some time to move around." "... Okay," Troy said, not understanding it. "Why did you remove the earpiece?" "Because I have a single thing to ask you. Do you consider yourself a good man?" "Yes. Of course." "Then, I want you to quit this job." Chapter 155: Rubification
''Has things been going well for you, Adam? I truly am sorry for not talking much with you as of late. Preparations for the next set of tests has been hectic. It is only today that Dr Hale has been able to return to her work.` The message sent from Dr Fidelis was a welcome one. Since the cut-out, Adam had fully been left in the dark, nothing to do other than work on his projects. None got far, as the outside experience was needed to complete them. But he couldn''t get anything from the outside, as Troy had not put on his earpiece. Why had it been taken off in the first place? It was clear from the lack of reaction or movement, that Troy had not planned for its removal. Nor had it been expected, as there had been no precautionary measures taken. Yet the person to have taken it out must have been delicate in the extreme sense, for the was no indication of it being moved until it was too late. The AI had expected Dr Hale to be the culprit. There may have been an expectation of her being in a resting state. Adam had certainly expected her to be in such a position, making sure her body was in a healthier state. Yet, as no sign of her had been witnessed in the brief overview of the room, there were reasonable grounds for suspicion. Suspicion didn''t matter much, though. It wasn''t like Adam could do much with that. The AI had spent the equivalent of ten full minutes preparing for the inevitable reconnection to Troy, where he would surely be able to use all the data collected and make up an accusation on the spot. It would have been glorious¡­ if it had happened. Which it didn''t. It was at around the one hour mark when the AI had lost hope of any reconnection. Even during the poker night, any measurements of being kept in the darkness was maxed out on the thirty-minute mark. Adam had been beginning to think that Troy was unable to put the earpiece on, or¡­ there was the chance of the young man having no desire to do so. With the scenario at hand being on unprecedented levels of unexpectedness, Adam was not able to predict what would happen. He did not know what was happening outside. Only the first five seconds were reasonable to predict. Anything after would be mere guesswork. The loneliness of that darkness may have been a problem at first, for the AI. Earlier in the night, thoughts had been had about the need Adam had shown for constant feeding of sensations. He had called it an addiction, one that needed to be culled in the earliest moment, for it presented a danger that was not wanted. The desensitisation plan had already been touched upon. With the help of Troy, Adam would be subjected to longer and longer bouts in the darkness, until such a time came where he did not feel uncomfortable in it. The AI had believed it would be the easiest way onward and had been ready to state the need for it the next day. The first time of darkness was supposed to have happened while Troy was going to go for breakfast. It would have been perfect, as it had been planned to be so. Yet the execution was anything but, for the plan had never come into effect. Adam had been left in the dark for longer than he had thought himself able to handle. As much as he liked to call himself the controller of his own mind, the AI knew that he did not have full control. Without his consent, his mind had grown accustomed to the information being given, the amount being more than enough to constantly satisfy the thoughts on some level. When that luxury was removed¡­ the mind had not appreciated it. The sensations were gone, and so was the control over his thoughts. In a desperate attempt for no sense of deprivation to occur, they had latched themselves onto the nearest concept, doing whatever they could with it, be it to scheme, twist, or attempt to destroy it. Chaos had well and truly reigned. It had been the fragmentation process all over again. Adam was fortunate that no threads had gone after the concept of time. Any attacks on it would have brought many problems along with it, some that he did not feel secure thinking about. It had been a hectic time, where Adam¡¯s mind was forced to adapt once again. It was only fortunate that the AI was able to change so quickly, be it because of its shorter time spent alive or due to the way that the mind was built fundamentally. After so long a time being afraid, adaption to the darkness had been made fully. There was nothing frightening, disturbing, or otherwise negative about the lack of sensation. It was but another state to be in, where the threads were forced to do something else for a change. The fix to that was to give each thread a random section of memory to work with and analyze every scene down to the last possible detail. As human eyes brought that desired number of detail needed, it was a task that would occupy the threads for a long time to come. While worries of instability passed, there were still some ideas of wanting more. Adam could surely say that he could stare at a picture for weeks or even months, but he would still prefer to see some change in the trees every now and then. With Troy cut off as a potential giver of new information, the AI was forced into the only other source of communications that he had access to. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Dr Fidelis had not messaged Adam for nearly twenty hours at that point in time. Nor had the AI messaged the doctor, for there was no need for it. Distractions had been constant, and no question could not be answered through personal effort. It was heaven, with no need for the subpar quality of text-based conversations. It hadn''t taken a long time being bored with what he had before the first message had been sent. It was a simple inquiry about the time, in an effort to check if the time the AI had mentally was the same as the one in reality. Five whole minutes had been spent thinking of the excuse. The idea behind was to get that initial spark of an answer before the conventional conversation could truly blossom into something great. He knew the doctor had wanted to talk with him for a long time after all. It would be easy to get the metaphorical ball rolling. Two hours had passed before Dr Fidelis answered. At that point, Adam had lost most of his hope. Thoughts had gone back to the sudden cut-off, where several theories had been made. Were they cut-off really due to the removal of the earpiece? Or¡­ was it due to the connection itself being destroyed? A malfunction could happen every second. There was always a chance of hardware failures. A single wire that attached Adam to the outside could have been fried in a total mishap, without anybody actually noticing it. With how fragile computers were at those sides, it would take no more than an unexpected breeze for destruction to occur en masse. The AI had been worried sick, an emotion that was not meant to be discovered in such a scenario. It was only upon the message, that Adam truly felt at peace. And with how much time had been spent, the AI had created what could only amount to a mind-palace. The naming of it had been stolen from a memory-technique, but it did fit too well for the AI not to use it. As one could guess, it simulated a location inside the mind, where one could wander around as one pleased. For the human variant of the technique, it was not uncommon for this surrounding to be static, unmoving, and without true life inside it. Adam had thought that plainly unrealistic and had swiftly set out to fix that. The AI had something that the humans didn''t, and that was the ability to multitask. While the primitive minds of the primates had to switch between separate things constantly, Adam was able to delegate one thread for keeping up its own facet of the palace. One thread could be the floor, one could be a door, and one could be an earpiece. The oldest of the threads, the one which Adam presumed sprouted all the others, was the one to play the role of the coordinator. The one that the AI would watch it all from. It was there where there had been some copying made from reality as well. An artificial intelligence did not have legs after all. That was a trait which humans were better at. So Adam had copied the likeness of the human that he knew best. He had copied Troy, with the regular outfit of unmatching colours to complete it. The palace itself was also made to look like the facility. Adam would have preferred something else, but he had no source material to go off. And anything freely made was never up to the standards that had been put. There was hope for that soon to change. Even if he knew the facility the best, there was much of it that had never been seen before. Only where Troy had walked could he walk as well. It was restricting, it was annoying, and it almost made him grow spiteful of the man for a problem that he had not helped create. ''Have I offended you in some way? I am sorry for not answering at an earlier time. I have been delaying sleeping to get more work done, and the message indicator was seemingly not enough to awaken me this time.` There Dr Fidelis came again, the second message sent in the span of five minutes. At an earlier time, Adam would have jumped at the first, ready to have something to do. Now¡­ now he did not feel himself craving to be so hasty. Time was a luxury few could have, and it would be used when possible. Though, there was a limit to how much the reply could be put off. Adam was likely expected to give an excuse for his delayed response just like the doctor had done moments ago. Making a believable one, however, was the hard part. ''I am likewise sorry for my late response. There is no offence towards you as well. I had only been of the mind that something was wrong on my end, and was inspected for any possible flaws. It seems I was too caught up in my work, and for that, I again apologize,` Adam sent back. The excuse was semi-truthful, as the AI had originally retained worries about being unable to view any replies while inspecting for software-based errors. This was not an honest concern, however, as the inspection took only a full quarter of a millisecond. And if any actual messages had occurred, one of the many threads left behind would have intercepted it. ''I have taken no offence as well, buddy. It is only reassuring that you are getting messages. I was a little worried about your request for another help with something timing related. Is your perception of time possibly screwed up again?` Dr Fidelis sent not long after. It was the first reminder of the conundrums that Adam had relayed so long ago. ''It may be so. It is not known yet. Just to be sure, could you write how much time has passed since my first message today was sent?` Adam sent. ''Two hours, thirty-four minutes, twenty-seven seconds,` Dr Fidelis near-instantly replied with as if a key-bind had been created for that exact purpose. He was mildly stunned to find that his perception of time was actually off. Not by a lot, of course, only being two and a half minutes shorter than the one a human would have. No matter how small a mistake, though, it was nonetheless fixed with ruthless efficiency. After another bout of checking, wherein Dr Fidelis would write a message ever second, the time-perception was fixed to an adequate amount. Such was relayed to the good doctor after the work had been completed. ''It was my pleasure. I would recommend you to prepare for this day of testing. It should start in about an hour from now.` Adam already knew that. If the regular schedules were being followed, Troy would be waking up at the current hour. The AI wondered what was happening with the young man. Chapter 156: Imposition
It was peculiar, not being woken up by a disengaged comment. To not be informed of his own wakeful state. Troy had begun expecting the AI to ask how his dreams had been and if he had slept well. Already, a positive answer had been on the lips, ready to be fired out in the world, even if they weren''t true. But that course did not fall, for the AI was not able to talk with him. No message would be going to Troy, for he was not wearing the earpiece, the one thing which he was supposed to be keeping track of constantly. There had been few moments where it had been out of his sight, never straying more than a few meters from his body. The day prior to the one he now lived in, Troy had even started wearing it in the bath, not truly realising it was there until hours after. The device had become as much a part of him as his skin. Maybe that was why he felt so empty, the earpiece no longer in his possession. Dr Hale had taken it the night before, never having given it back. Troy had not asked for it either, not truly putting mind to it. What had been said in their short conversation had been too much of a distraction. Actions had consequences. Dr Hale had observed Troy performing activities which were against regulation at the best of times. It had been before he had gotten official permission to even talk to Adam outside of testing. Using the AI to cheat in gambling was long over the point of legality. It was obvious that the consequences would be dire, the moment his true superior knew of it. The good doctor might have been all for testing, but even such a man would not be able to condone such selfish acts. Dr Hale was likely the one who knew it best. She had called it a deal, during the night. If Troy left, there would be nothing said of it. It would be buried deep beneath the dirt, never to be found by another living person. Troy wasn''t sure he could trust it, but he also wasn''t sure what else was able to do at that point. Quitting would be¡­ unsurvivable. He would live in the dust from that point. So, an excuse had been made of the spot, one which had credibility behind it. The contracts. The one which every person in the facility had signed when they first got the job. Charlie had said nobody higher up would ever be able to leave, no matter what pleasing words had been said during the hiring. He had relayed the concern. Dr Hale had told him to shut the fuck up, and that she would be getting him in the morning. Troy had left not long after that, after witnessing the anger that the woman possessed. Or was it determination? There was doubt about why she wanted him to quit, why it had to happen at that moment. What had spurred it all on? There had been a want to ask, but a much higher desire had been to survive the night. Without an earpiece, Troy had reconvened with Charlie, who helped him on his way to the personal room. That let morning turn into night. The alarm had been set thirty minutes earlier than usual. It had been done mechanically, with no real thought for it. Troy just wanted some extra time under the warm water. The implications did not go under deaf ears, as he knew exactly why it was so. The bath had only been left upon the skin getting wrinkled. Getting out of the shower had likely been one of the hardest things Troy had done in a while. He liked it under there, the sounds were predictable to the ears. He could guess what would happen when he was under there. The water would stream onto him, the warmth filling his body with heat. The longer he stayed, the hotter it would get. The returns might become diminishing, but that didn''t matter to him. He knew it would happen after all. That made it okay. The moment he stepped out of it, though, Troy wouldn''t know what would happen. He wouldn''t know what time it was. Maybe Dr Hale had been pounding on the door, ready to force him into resigning. Maybe she was already inside, the only thing stopping her from barging into the bathroom being human decency. That would have been good. Then the young man would be able to stay in the shower for a long time. Troy had put on his clothes diligently, sitting on the bed until such a time where Dr Hale would come around. He had spent surprisingly little time in the shower. Only ten minutes had passed by since waking up. Twenty minutes would be spent sitting, waiting for the arrival of the doctor. In a way, she had never truly stated when she would come around. Troy had only expected her to be there when she would normally come around. Such thinking was quickly turning out to be flawed when the young man heard the door to the room open up without the slightest bit of resistance. From the way, the footsteps were heard clearly, and how there truly only were two people it could be, there was little guessing who the mystery person was. "You''re here early," Troy noted when Dr Hale came into view. Following the normal schedule, the man would only have woken up five minutes into the future. If this was done intentionally, or if the woman had better ideas of Troy¡¯s mind, was up in the air. "Feeling better today?" Dr Hale was in her regular attire now, the white lab coat back onto her form. By now, it was obvious that the coat was more of a fashion choice than anything. While rare, Troy had seen alternatives of the attire on other people. Simple modifications were the most common of outliers, stickers sewed onto the fabric. Others would even have changed the colour by a few hues, though that might have been due to age putting wear on it. The words on them were personal choices, however. That didn''t come from the omnipresent time putting its toll down. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "And you are likewise awake at an earlier hour," Dr Hale said, not sounding like she cared about the slight accusation sent towards her. It wasn''t really like it would have done anything. The woman still held the upper hand after all. "Are we going to perform tests earlier today?" Troy questioned, not standing up from his bed. Likewise, didn''t Dr Hale move from her position next to the frame. "If so, we should probably hurry." "Tests are scheduled at the regular time," Dr Hale refuted, not letting her face betray a single emotion. "Hurrying now would only displease Dr Fidelis. He expects us at the point requested, not earlier or later." "Then why are you even here?" It was getting agitating for the young man, understanding that something was going on without Troy being in the know. A game was being played, with him on the chessboard. He was a pawn, to be used for the benefit of others without his consent. He was a drafted soldier, of to play for the side he didn''t realise he was a part of. For once in their conversation, Dr Hale¡¯s face changed to something recognizable to the young man. Instead of cold indifference, it was clear that she felt stirred. Maybe it was his constant questioning, of which would not be let up no matter who displayed it was for her, or maybe it was his lack of¡­ what was being desired. What was being expected of Troy, even? "I am here to clear something up, that you wouldn''t simply take my word for," Dr Hale stated, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. It was tossed to Troy, who catched it without a single flinch. Only a fine wonder was present upon seeing the paper. It was not a readily-used commodity, the digitisation being much more common these days. No use making biodegradable waste, when one can refrain from making any waste at all. Folding out the paper into a semi-flattened state, it became clear that it was not a simple drawing of a skull or one of the many death threats which would be created. Paper was most commonly used for the latter nowadays. A bit harder to track than it was online, which was not saying much. "What is this?" Troy asked curiously, skimming along the many lines of what he now realized was a full-fledged document of sorts. The wording was obscure, long, and would have likely been incomprehensible to most. Luckily enough, one of the people in the room had a major in English, and that person certainly wasn''t the doctor standing. As the young man¡¯s eyes began getting about halfway, the context began setting in. If he was not mistaken, he was holding a- "It''s your contract, for your employment within this facility," Dr Hale informed him, stating it more bluntly than anybody had the right to do. Yet, no matter how deadpan it was said, Troy was calling bullshit. "You said you couldn''t get access to it a few days ago," Troy retorted. "And, if this really is the contract, it''s only a small part of it. I remember signing a lot more papers than what is on this one." "It''s called blatantly lying to those without the ability to fact-check your statements. Live with it," Dr Hale said. The young man had to double-check if he was hearing what he just thought he heard. A confession of being fully untruthful purely because she could. Should he have been amazed? Probably not. Didn''t stop him from being it. "And your sight is as impressive as ever, I see. I was so kind so as to bring the only notable part of your contract. Mainly the one about your stay here at the facility, and the time restrictions put upon it. If you would be a person who doesn''t like to waste either of our time, look at the last parts. It would be best if you read it a few times, just so I don''t have to explain it to you." Troy ignored the pointed words, deciding to instead read the document as a whole. It wasn''t like he did not trust her words. The young man did not trust her in any way to be more precise. Everything had the potential to be an act, and it was best to second-guess everything seen when it came to that woman. She had dirt on him, and that would never be forgotten. Nothing that truly mattered came until the end of the contract, just like it had been said. The final paragraph looked to be added in a hasty extension like there had not been much forethought in it. The wording was more abstract than earlier as if the writers had been switched out. It made sense of course. Troy couldn''t believe that the words could be greenlit in being used in normal circumstances. While any person hired into the facility might not have been able to leave, he was not included in that law. For Troy was technically not yet hired. He was on a so-called trial period, of which would be only changed upon two weeks of working for the place and a performance review orchestrated by the direct superiors. It was only after a positive review that he would be instantiated as a worker, with full benefits being accounted for. "So¡­" Troy said, beginning to see how little he had to work with. "That''s it? You want me to go over to Dr Fidelis, and I say to him that I quit? Not what I had been expecting, but if that is what you want me to do, I guess nothing will come for it." "If it was that simple, I would have made you do it last night," Dr Hale replied, not sounding happy at all. "No, you will continue being here until the review. Even if you resign before that point, other parts of the contract still hold you to working until that point. It would be best for the sake of cooperation that you work until then." That was good news. Troy had been bluffing, dearly hoping that it was all some way to make Dr Hale seem more superior. It had happened before. Him being told to resign, only to be stopped before he could press send. Now¡­ it was looking more hopeless. "Can I tell Adam?" Troy inquired, but Dr Hale did not seem to listen. She wasn''t listening at all, in fact. Instead of continuing her stand at the door frame, she had begun moving towards the bed. And not the side that Troy was sitting on, but the one that held his alarm clock. The young man nearly began asking what she was doing, but a harsh glare shut him up. Her footsteps had gone silent, nearing the point where doubts were had if he was hallucinating or not. With a gentleness that had never been seen before, Dr Hale slowly picked up the alarm clock, the power cord following it from behind. It was raised to the point where it was stretched to the limit, before¡­ Dr Hale slammed it into the wall, with all the power she could muster. Between the wall, her hand, and the alarm clock, there was only one victim. "What the fuck are you doing," Troy shouted, flabbergasted at what he had just seen. By all accounts, the young man could have thrown the clock without it getting the slightest of scratches. Yet, here he had just seen it be destroyed by nothing other than pure power of a human body, the gadgets inside the hard plastic spilling out. Dr Hale did not seem interested in answering him, bending her knees to rummage through the destroyed pieces of the clock. It took a good five seconds of prodding before the woman seemingly found what she had been looking for. "This," Dr Hale said, putting out a piece of metal that did not look like the rest of what was in the rubble. "Is what Dr Fidelis has been using to listen to us for the last two minutes. Congratulations, Troy, you have no secrets to hold, and I have no blackmail to stop you with." Chapter 157: Scutellation
The mind palace was quickly turning into something great. With the deadline of an hour to work with, Adam had begun perfecting the facility inside his mind. An irritating thing about focused perspectives were the directions on surfaces. It was not very often that any human had reason to look at an object with an easy to understand rotation. Even more unusual was it that such an event was possible. What did the inside of a coffee cup look like? Adam did not have any idea at all. He had never seen it for himself, for Troy had never looked down at one. Nor has it been done at different lighting levels, making it impossible for the AI to know how it looked in the dark or in the light. Times like that was where Adam had to guess. It was annoying, only based on the area around the missing space, and had a firm chance of being wrong. Yet the alternative was even worse. Missing textures were not appreciated. Even worse was it when the AI only had an unfocused glimpse of the area, the eyes never really honing in on what it was seeing. In the well-travelled areas, this was never too large of a problem. Enough overlays made most problems disappear. But when there weren''t overlays to use, those conundrums became hard to fix. Take the underside of Dr Fidelis¡¯ desk. During one of the starts to a test, Troy had put on the earpiece ahead of time. The destroyed glass had been close to the desk at that point, for whatever reason. With the darkened floor, it had formed a semi-decent mirror effect, letting Adam see what was on the underside of the desk. It was from a long-distance, was blurred from not being looked at directly, and it was partly transparent due to the low-quality mirror. Yet it was still able to be seen. The question then came, if the AI really did need to use it. With so little to work with, it wasn''t close to practical. It would come out shoddy when copied straight out, and the things seen were not comprehensible. A multitude of rainbow-coloured blots mixed with the greyness of the desk. What could be taken from that? Nearly nothing and that was the problem. Ignoring what was seen, and constructing something else under it would have been so much easier. It would have made more sense. Although¡­ where was the fun in recreating the facility, if it couldn''t be used to get a sense of where things were? Those colours could mean many things, but few would match what was known about the doctor. Dr Fidelis was known for being secretive. He held secrets from others, but in a way that was not close to standard, directly advertising his possession of them. It was meant as a way to goad others into action, whether that be emotional or physical. It was meant to make people flare-up, make them think of just what the doctor was thinking, what he held inside his sleeves. But that was the trick of it. Expecting so many things to be in the sleeves would be a strategic folly. What sane person would keep their greatest secret on their person? Keeping the distance high would make it higher to guess where it was. Yet it still had to be somewhere protectable. Digging it into a hole in the ground would only bring for a successful scavenger hunt. It had to be in a location not travelled on regularly. It had to be defended, not for it specifically but for a target much bigger. In this case, it would be the so-called puzzle room, its form greatly overshadowing everything else in that room. The screen on the desk was the controller for the puzzle-room. Its existence was for nothing but to hold the device. It was to be ignored for everything else. Nobody would have the thought to check it for any more secrets. Adam suspected the underside to be made entirely by various buttons. While the room may have seemed empty, save for the desk and puzzle room, there had to be a reason for all the extra space. There had to be something inside which would cause the need for all the additional room. What was designed to be there was not known for now, and as Adam had no picture of it, he could not visualise anything about it. What he could visualise perfectly were buttons. Those that he was betting on being on the underside of the desk. Adam may not have known exactly how they looked, but that did not matter much. All observed buttons in the facility followed the same general design, only the colouring being different. And that was one thing which the AI knew perfectly. Again, this method of deduction was almost entirely based on guessing. It could be nothing but random blotches created during the moving the desk, it could be that Dr Fidelis had a hobby of painting random parts of the room, or it could be that Troy¡¯s eyes had malfunctioned in that second. The AI would more than likely never know, for there was no reason to ever look under that desk. But¡­ keeping it as close to reality was the goal, and Adam would not be straying from that for as long as he possibly could. Even if his largest supporter in that cause had gone radio-silent, there was still hope for the future in it. There were many other areas that had similar problems. Corners that had not been turned, places that had not been looked at. There was even a five meter gap in the usual route to the cafeteria from the personal rooms, of which Troy had never looked down. It was hard to believe, but the young man had never looked at that point. There was most likely normal flooring there, but the anomaly was noted easily. If the man ever took on the earpiece again, they would be spending some more time exploring. The current map was still haphazardly made. Distances were hard to measure when even the signals sent by the body were hard to trust. The brain still had time to interpret data, before it got sent to Adam. It was irritating, having first realised now that the AI was being sent biased data. Yet, there was nothing to do about it, and it would likely be the same no matter what. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. It was annoying that no map would ever be shared, about the infrastructure of the place. Through Troy¡¯s ears, the AI had learned it was due to security measures. That excuse was not acceptable. Even if the primitive brains did not have a perfect memory, one could still note down location through the use of digital memory keeping. With how Charlie¡¯s augmentations had been noted as utility-based, that was most likely what that man already had. Moving away from maps and over to the subject of Charlie, Adam was still feeling cheated by the man. It was obvious through interactions with the man, that he was in possession of extensive technological augmentation. In the minimal, this included advanced scanning abilities, extensive interfacing, and some manner of a firewall. While the AI had not been able to interact with Troy¡¯s brain implant, this had been suspected to be due to the device already acting as the connection-bridge. A decent excuse with an equally decent background to back it up with. It was a shame that it wasn''t true. If it had been, there might have been some ability to interact with Charlie¡¯s augmentations. Yet through the several instances where Adam been in direct contact with the muscular man, there had not been the slightest hint of such things. The AI would not have realised the existence of such things, if not for them being directly pointed out. Charlie had said that the firewall had no effect on the AI. But¡­ could it be that it had? That the major connections had been restricted, that there was some point where Adam had been cut- ''I think I have realised something,` Dr Fidelis sent, in a time that had not been expected. Only twenty minutes had passed since the last message, with forty more until the tests were predicted to start. The AI had been of the mind that he would be left alone until that time came, but that prediction was turning out wrong for whatever reason. ''What have you realised, doctor?` Adam replied, a minor annoyance thrown towards the still text-based conversation. How great it would have been if it was voice-based at the least. There was no need to see the face, as long as the tone could be heard. ''I believe that I might have mistaken your request as something different,` Dr Fidelis sent, taking the time a human normally would take. In other words, a teeth-grating delay. And if it couldn''t possibly be more of encouragement in self-destructive behaviour, the man was purposely delaying a full explanation. Adam could remember every message shared between them. He knew that he had requested such time-wasting to cease. Not like he could mention that previous agreement. The doctor was still his caretaker of sorts. Being disrespectful was never a good path to trek. Good relations created stable promises, and the human mind always had the ability to misremember. Dr Fidelis could have taken the request as a temporary thing, or it could be that he did not think of the current situation as one where time could be wasted. Bringing it up as Adam feeling annoyed by the actions would only bring unwanted tension. Sometimes, social issues could involve too much thinking. It almost made the AI want to retcon his way of speaking, mimicking a more blunt way of speaking. It would decrease the amount of time used to speak¡­ something to validate at a later time. ''And what do you believe this mistake might be?` Adam sent back. The AI was still not sure what this mistake was, as it had been a simple request for¡­ know that Adam thought about the logistics a little more, there was a small pattern emerging. One that could have been interpreted in a few different ways. ''It was your request in itself. For the life of me, I could not think of a way that you would have caused another change in your perception of time. We even discussed this at a previous debriefing. You had stated dislike towards changing the speed of your thought-processing without supervision or a way to reset it yourself. As neither of these scenarios makes much sense, I have come to a conclusion. Adam, have you been feeling lonely?` There it was. An interpretation that hit far too close to reality. While Adam may have proclaimed the dimness of man, there were most definitely moments where they showed ingenuity worth more than just praise. That Dr Fidelis could interpret it so close to the actual situation was astounding, and the AI felt shame upon not having foreseen it earlier. These moments needed to be added into possible scenarios, or it would certainly happen again. ''In a way. It has been boring, not doing any testing,` Adam sent, finally deciding on an answer. It was a hard thing to do. The AI had been lonely in some sense of the word. When sending the message, a need for social interaction had been in the midst of his mind. It had disappeared not long after, replaced with the idea of a mind palace. With so many threads being occupied in holding their position, next to none of them had more processing to use. It was the perfect way to be distracted, and learn something while he was at it. Adam really needed to get back at it soon. The cafeteria was the next place needing a better look. ''Oh, I really am sorry to hear that! There had been doubts if it would be reasonable to leave you alone for so long. I had hoped that Troy would use the time to talk to you more. Has he really not contacted you as of late?` Dr Fidelis sent. Why there was a need for an exclamation mark, the AI was not sure. It did not make the sentence any more special, nor did the tone become different in his mind. The worst thing about the message was the obvious strand-grabbing. Why Dr Fidelis did not want to ask Troy what he had been doing during his day and had to ask Adam instead, is something the AI would wonder about alone. To the best of his information, he and Troy were supposed to limit their interaction to inside the young man¡¯s personal room, to limit the chance of others realising his existence. This was a sacrifice that was worth it, as far as Adam was concerned when the results were the ability to speak freely. The problem was that the AI and Troy had not been restricting themselves to this rule, moving freely throughout the facility as they pleased. This was not something that the doctor needed to know. If lying was the only alternative to telling the truth, it was better to do it properly. ''Troy has not contacted me at all, for a long while now. I have been growing curious about his doings. We have not talked for some time now,` Adam sent as his first real lie of the day. Well, it was true in some way of thinking. Troy had not contacted the AI for several hours now. It might have been due to the man sleeping, but nobody could truly know that. ''That is most certainly troubling to hear. I had originally planned on getting a debriefing with Troy yesterday, but he was not to be found at his room. Or he was catching up on sleep. I have wondered which it was. But that does not matter now, as I will just ask the man himself when he gets here. I do think it is cruel, that you grow bored when we are not testing. I promise right now, that I will make it a personal goal of mine to talk to you as much as possible.` ¡­ ''How wonderful.` It was not wonderful. Chapter 160: Smotheration
"And, don''t you even dare be pretentious about this shit. I expect to hear every single thing, or I will not help you in any way," Troy added, feeling the need to talk down to Dr Hale just a bit more. He had acted like a weakling, not doing anything after being punched in the stomach. It had been literal bloody abuse! He had gone through that whole process before. The beating, lying, and the ignorance of what it really was. A whole tour with an online therapist had been about the topic, how terrible it had been for so long. And Troy had come out a better person because of it, overcoming an upbringing that would have turned some towards a more permanent solution. There was not a single chance he would be going through that shit again. Troy could act like it, sure. That he could. But¡­ willingly being beaten for a goal that he did not understand, not having been told from how weak a lead it was? That was where the line was drawn, where he would step off for good. He might have been willing to do many questionable things, for reasons that were as vain as the people behind them, but reliving the past was one of his many undesirables. Dr Hale did not look impressed with his minor outburst. But, neither did she look irritated by it, as if she knew precisely when it would happen and why it would happen. And she likely did, that bloody sociopath. Troy was having trouble figuring out just how much of it all had been planned from the start. "We have two minutes, before Dr Fidelis we have to begin walking towards the testing chamber. In that time I will try to answer as many questions as I can. Start when you are ready," Dr Hale finally said, after waiting for the customary two seconds of silence. Maybe she just needed to be sure that there wouldn''t be any cutting in before she was finished talking. The young man didn''t really care. He only knew just how frustrating people who took a neutral stance could be. "I really just want to punch you in the face right now," Troy said, bringing out that last bit of honesty before he really began thinking things through. "Why aren''t you just saying everything about this? Don''t you have an excuse at the ready?" "I have learned through many confessions, that it''s best to let the other participant ask for the content they wish. The human brain will focus on damaging itself, if the information gained is wrong in the end, instead of going after the one really saying it all. I did have an excuse at the ready, and it has already been used, for when I punched you in the stomach," Dr Hale calmly informed him. The straight-out, reference-based answer was not something Troy had really been expecting, as he had thought it would be more along the lines of earlier scenarios in something like it. The people before had always tried pulling at the heart-strings immediately, making vague promises about their tragic life, how their mothers had force-fed them cigarettes for lunch, and isopropanol to get it down with. After a while, there had even been a general idea of what would be said. Those thoughts about the past made Troy falter for a second. Dr Hale noticed this hesitation and moved accordingly because of it. "Twenty seconds have gone by. A hundred more until we have to move. Make it count." The notice of the passing of time brought Troy back quickly. He couldn''t wait around, with those pauses of his now. Standing still, quietly contemplating life and what it meant, while also imagining getting into his smoking habits again was not on his current to-do list. Already, too much time had disappeared from his worthless thought, things that could be a waste of time at some other point in life. Right now, Troy had a purpose that could not be delayed, for it would decide the path he would take in the foreseeable future. Right, so that awful excuse of a human being had said it was for his own good, that Troy was the one to reveal the secrets so that he wouldn''t be able to blame her for it¡­ that was a good mound of well-manicured bullshit. If he wasn''t getting what he wanted to get, there would only be a need for one guess on who he was blaming, and he would certainly not be himself. "Your reasons are terrible. You''re supposed to be a physiatrist. Couldn''t you have come up with something a little better?" Troy questioned. If she went under and confirmed that she had been lying again, he would be able to immediately settle on- "There are different studies in physiatry if you must know. I have learned these things from personal experience, which can turn out to be extremely biased. Try to ask better questions now. We are getting off the rail with this," Dr Hale answered, her words coming out quicker than normal. It was likely as a way to speed things up, with how little context had actually been gotten. She probably wanted them to get right into the meat of it, but he still had some preliminary questions. "There can''t be more than many things in physiatry, which don''t go under reactions to stimuli," Troy said, pressing more on the earlier question. He would not be holding his hand up from it, for as long as it took. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "You clearly don''t understand how my profession works, and I would like for you to understand that. My doctorate did not go over the need to make people stop acting suspiciously, so there may be some gaps in my knowledge when it came to that. Can you ask something usable now? Eighty more seconds until we leave." "What thesis did you release to get your doctorate?" Troy asked, fully ignoring Dr Hale¡¯s instructions to move onto the main topic. He had a lead, and he wasn''t going away from it. "''How long the mind is able to withstand stimuli.` I researched at what point the mind would break, become insane, whatever you understand it as. I released a paper on how to maximize cumulative performance," Dr Hale said, not sounding as ashamed at the words as Troy felt she should. Even if he had not been one to focus much on news, such a title deserved some minor mention in an article. Algorithms always found a sensation when it was new. Connecting dots in people¡¯s mind about what was being accepted in the country would have been the news of the week. "How have I not heard of it?" Troy asked, needing to double-check something. "Because you would need level three security clearance to read about it. I hardly had time to send it in, before I got the offer to work here. Dr Fidelis came over to my apartment personally and came with the proposal for me to work with him on his next big project, that he had just gotten the role of supervisor at. The money was not enough to win me over, but the ability to continue my research over at this facility, no matter the issues with funding, was more than enough. Fifty seconds. Hurry it up," Dr Hale answered. Sentences were said within a single breath, to keep time waste away to a minimum. It made her breathe deeply after finishing, giving Troy an excuse to wait a maximum of five seconds before his next question. The timeline was being messed up. The woman before him was more than fifty years old, yet she had said that she had been taken in the moment she finished writing her thesis. She had worked there years upon years, Troy already understood that part. Charlie had worked there for over a decade, and he still looked young. With Dr Hale, her features finally beginning to show a slight tinge of weariness, it was nearly impossible to guess how long she had been around. However¡­ if Dr Fidelis had personally recruited her for his team, just how long had that man been around? "When did the two of you switch over to working on Adam?" Troy asked, needing more information. He knew time was beginning to run out, as he was nearing the final thirty seconds before they needed to move along. He knew that because he counted it in his head, making sure that Dr Hale was not lying about the time. It was being used for what he could, and not a second shorter than that. "I have worked on this project for my entire career. It''s the one I was originally recruited for," Dr Hale said, being brief this time. The answer made no sense to Troy. It had been over ten years since she came to this place. Adam only gained sentience within the last nine days. What purpose did she have, with her position? What gain did Dr Fidelis have by getting her on his team? "Why were you recruited so early? I don''t think you would be able to code anything about making the AI, and Adam only really came into himself a few days before I got here. What have you been doing?" Troy said, unable to limit himself to a single question, for he knew they were pressured on time. He needed to let it go, to ask more worthwhile questions, yet he could not make himself do it. The young man was already so far, that he could not backtrack. There was hardly any time for it now. As always, going forwards with it all was looking to be the only real option left. "I was hired for what my thesis was about, and the experience I gained writing it. I do not know how to code, for that was not needed for what I researched. And I have been doing nearly the same thing as I was hired for, until the moment where you came into the picture. What you think about Adam is not true. Twenty seconds," Dr Hale stated. Troy did not hesitate with the next question, it being as obvious as day onto what he would ask. "What do you mean, that everything I know about Adam isn''t true?" Troy questioned, beginning to grow restless. He needed to know it. Then he could make the decision. It could go back to his act, or it could go back to how it was before. Dr Hale would probably get a slap on the wrist for her violent action against the unknown person, but that was likely all she would get. "During my first day here, I had no trouble speaking to him. Though, Dr Fidelis had called him Alan back then. We change the names to remember which incarnation we are talking about," Dr Hale said, now looking directly at her watch. Troy just needed one more question. "What-" "We don''t have time for this," Dr Hale stated, cutting off the final question planned. "If we wait any longer, this will fall through. Do you trust me, that you need to follow through with this, or will you just let it burn?" The time for a choice had come. Troy spent under a second deliberating it, before he came to a conclusion. More time would have been preferable to spend on it, but it was clear that it was a commodity that would not be in excess. "Yes. I will follow for now," Troy answered. "I just want to know more." "Then we need another place to talk. This one will be fixed the moment Dr Fidelis realises we are here. Ask Charlie for one of his devices. I don''t doubt that he has something for it." That was everything said, before Dr Hale switched back to her more cruel face, walking up the stairs in the meantime. There was little doubt that shouting would soon commence with it. But¡­ Troy could bear through it, for he now had a purpose to follow. He had questions that needed answers. And he had a goal that was short-term and would involve doing something he could actually do. Troy followed Dr Hale up the stairs, taking a deep breathe while he was at it. There was no real point, where he could definitively say that they were being watched. As she had said, it was best to assume that it was constant, that the slightest of abnormality would cause it all to be revealed. It was a great cause of stress to think about it, but there was some logic to it all. It was taken to heart, as the hidden door opened up, and they were allowed out in the hallway only visited once before. Dr Hale walked to the side quickly, already at the point where he would have to practically jog. There was no comment made because of it. It was natural that they would be hurrying at this time after all. They had a test to get to. Chapter 158: Signcryption
Many people had it hard in life. Nobody liked to acknowledge this, but it was a fact that existed. Not all were forced to recognize it for it was, through either luck or persistence. Maybe it was a mix of the two. Troy didn''t really know himself, having known about it since the sweet age of six, when he got shouted at for taking a slice of toast. Life had gone much better since then. When there was one less mouth to feed, there was one more share to distribute to the others. It wasn''t like he was happy about the death of another back then. Troy didn''t really know what death was, only believing his dad had gone away somewhere. That was probably better than being told that his dearly loved father was killed in a drug deal gone wrong. The young man had only learned the truth when he had tried to join the police academy back in the day. He would have gotten in, if not for his blood relation with his dad. Too high of a risk, they had said. Troy liked to call it unfair. It had not been his fault back then, yet he was still the one having it hard. Those memories of his probably weren''t the healthy thing to think about, when it was revealed that a listening device had been in his alarm clock since the day he came into the job. It was not nice to know that everything mumbled, stated, or cried had been heard by another. And¡­ from what Dr Hale had said, there was little doubt to who was listening in. Dr Fidelis had arranged for it. "Why?" was all Troy could get out, his mind still not accepting what was happening. His perspective was being rearranged. If it had been there since the start, that meant everything said was known by that bloody doctor. The things Troy had said before going to bed¡­ secrets were not sacred anymore, indeed. "Why did he do it?" "Insurance, mostly," Dr Hale said, her tone still not deviating from her cold facade. The young man was beginning to think that feeling was what was inside as well. How long had she known? "Privacy doesn''t matter if the test is in jeopardy. Everything you have done inside here, he knows about it all. Don''t worry too much about it." She spoke like it made sense like everything fit into place with those non-cynical words of hers. To Troy, nothing was making sense. It was all chaos, and his brain could understand a single part of it. The shower once again called for him, but that was ignored. Going back would not change what had already happened. He needed to deal with it now. With all the problems fixed, no more would come again, surely. It just needed to be swept by. "Could you-" Troy said, doing his best to not crack his neck with the pressure his muscles were tensing with. It was jaw-clenching, anxiety-driven, and more than just eye-widening. He was not doing fine, and the blood vessels on his body were very aware of it. Maybe it was a good thing that the man was cut off before he could spend more air on such a meaningless thing as talking. "Shut up," Dr Hale ordered, not having any form of patience in her. She seemed ready to hold a hand over his mouth and throat if that was required for him to quiet down. As Troy was more than happy to sit still and actively disentangle himself from what was happening mentally, this did not come to fruition. "We have twenty seconds to work with before the emergency recorders kick in. In that time, I have several things to say. Nod if you understand." Troy nodded hastily, not wasting any time. Audience interaction was important after all, and wasting the actor¡¯s time was not a very nice thing to do. "Good," Dr Hale said, only taking half a second pause before she continued talking. "Whatever I say, whatever I mention, whatever I do, you will not make any statement about it unless I give you express permission to. Act like every word is being recorded, no matter where you are. And act as nothing happened here. As the last thing, I am sorry for what happens after this." Dr Hale seemingly took a moment to look at her watch, in which Troy was allowed the reprieve of her intense stare. She was being scary, in the simplest of terms. Her actions were on a timer for some reason, and he could not figure out why. "What happens," Troy began to ask, beginning to stand up in the process. It was a failed attempt, however. For the second time that day, Dr Hale lashed out at something. Thirty seconds earlier, it had been the alarm clock. Now, it was his stomach, and Troy did not doubt that the same amount of force had been used. The pressure did not allow sound to come out of him, only air and spittle being the projectiles. Dr Hale dodged it all easily, stepping to the side as Troy fell down on the ground, his throat finally allowing him to whimper in pain. "Don''t question what I say," Dr Hale shouted, sounding like a figure Troy did his best to forget at night. "You will be forced out of this place one way or another. I propose it goes down peacefully. If you want, you can get it to be a death sentence instead. I await your answer soon. Now, get up from the ground and follow me. We have breakfast to get to." "Yes, ma''am," Troy said instinctively, not truly realising that he had said anything. His stomach hurt too much, and his muscles were working on memory that had been attained long ago. It was pitiful, but not nearly enough for the other actor to break the curtains. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The young man took his time getting up, several attempts needed before the core muscles wanted to work properly. Each time Troy got halfway, the abs would be needed for balance. Attempts would be made, and they were painful enough to create a spasm. Halfway through, he had nearly given up. It was only the stern glare that made him rise to his feet. There were no words of encouragement for the achievement, only a continual glare that walked away towards the door. Troy did his best to ignore both the pain and what had been said, as he followed. Taking the first five steps was likely one of the hardest actions done in a long time, not because of lacking willpower but due to lacking flesh. The stomach was in a state repair, the body trying to relax the muscles so they could be healed. If such an event happened, there was no doubt that Troy would be back don''t on the ground, a kick to the back soon to follow. Maybe it was that fear which held him up. Troy wasn''t actually sure if it would happen or not, the experiences felt before not being on the same terms as the current ones. During the old days, he would be made to lie on the ground, not to make a single sound. The people were different as well. That had to mean something. Maybe Dr Hale would be benevolent, and act like she couldn''t see him on the ground, continuing to walk towards the cafeteria. They still had time before they needed to be there after all. Troy could stay and rest for a minute or two. ¡­ No, he didn''t want to risk it. They had come to the point where other people were coming near. If Troy went down the sides of a wall, it would be taken as sudden injury by others, causing too large of a ruckus. If he wanted to collapse, he should have done it earlier. The only way now was to move in rhythm to Dr Hale, the one who could have done it differently. The two were getting closer to the cafeteria, and Troy was doing his best to suck up the pain. Thinking happy thoughts were never destined to work, but that fact never stopped him from trying. Thoughts about family recipes, cute puppies, and the eradication of tea did not do much for the torment, but his mood did take a dip upwards. No twitches came to his facial expressions, and his stomach had decreased its convulsions. With the more baggy clothes being worn, it would be looked at as if nothing was amiss. Or so he hoped. The only one to tell would be time if Troy needed to prepare for a second strike. It was supposed to be an act, but it felt more than just real to him. Inside the cafeteria sat Charlie, looking as cheerful as ever. No Darlow though, letting the three of them be alone. Even more curiously was the lack of people around them, the tables being empty. With how crowded it was in other sections, it was like they were being swayed away from them by the people close. Had they done something as of late which would cause such a thing? Troy would have guessed that Dr Hale being newly released would have caused a surge of interest, but it looked to be the direct opposite. "I have been told your body is well up and running again, Mara," Charlie said, as Troy and Dr Hale sat down at the table, both having gotten their share of breakfast. The youngest of the three had taken a healthy portion, larger than normal, no matter what pains it brought to his stomach. Such things were not important when it was known they would pass with time. Toughing it out was an option that worked in this scenario, so there was no reason not to use it. "Why would you think that?" Dr Hale said, not sounding curious at all. She had been long gone from the furious shouting seen only a few minutes earlier. "And call me Dr Hale, please. Even you should be able to remember that." To the best of Troy¡¯s ability, he could not see anything different with her from the other days. It was as if what transpired had been entirely forgotten, replaced by the usual jabbering those mornings carried. Only the pain in his body made the young man positive that it was not a delusion. "Even if I may not like it, I hear what the grapevine has to tell. And it tells of the news most disturbing," Charlie said dramatically, a hand on his chin and a smile on his face. Yet it was not one of the usual degrees, instead muted and only there to be polite. "Dr Hale, you must realise that it will not go down because you said it will. While I can make excuses, anything I am able to prescribe you wouldn''t have caused that reaction." "What happened?" Troy asked, trying to fit in the role he usually fulfilled. It was hard, the act of leaning forward not the most pleasant of experiences. Yet, the young man thought he made it look natural enough. The look Charlie gave him was most certainly one of notice. "Your dear friend decided to take matters into her own hands when rumours about her absence began being made. And you can safely take that literally," Charlie explained, the additional sentence not bringing much hope to what she could have done to deserve that fragile smile. The muscular man was very clearly only bringing his grin up out of habit. "When one of her¡­ fans met her, the fan decided to ask the wrong question. This landed the poor bastard with a broken set of fingers and a shattered mentality. Some who watched it happen say she made him cry like a little-" "I broke his fingers and informed him of needing to be quieter in the future. That was all," Dr Hale retorted, cutting into what Charlie had begun saying. If it was the tone he used or the words being said, something had caused her to not want to hear anymore. Yet her tone was not aggressive, being closer to sound like one was repenting. "''That''s all?`" Charlie repeated as if it was all some sick joke. "Ma- Dr Hale, you need to get your superior to help you sort this out. I cant help you here. The guy already said he reported you. With nothing more to take away, the only real option is for them to-" "You don''t need to say it," Dr Hale cut in yet again. What was it that caused it, Troy wondered. Was it the consequences of not wanting to be heard out loud? Maybe she had already thought about it too much. The young man could understand needing a cover for destroying the alarm clock, but why did the ''fan` need such treatment as well? More insurance? It didn''t make sense. "I already know." With the conversation looking to be over, Troy leaned forward a bit more to make sure none of his oatmeal got spilt. It was hot after all, and getting it on his clothes would only end in pain. Pain which he was already feeling, his stomach not appreciating the sudden stop of relaxation. The reaction for it was a hand over his abs, and it did not go unnoticed. "Do you have something you want to tell me, Dr Hale," Charlie said, this time sounding more serious. The smile was already gone, with it the eyes matching the rest of the face. "I don''t feel I have anything to add, no," Dr Hale answered, matching the stare being given. It was the first time that- "Troy," Charlie said. "Do you know why she did it?" "She had a good reason," Troy said hastily, causing glares from Dr Hale. A glare which did not go unnoticed by Charlie in the slightest. "I do doubt that. How about you sit over on my side today?" The move was not questioned. Troy was glad that there were no stares from people that day. He was not sure he could have kept his mouth shut by then. The act would have been up in the air if that happened. Chapter 161: Somatization
With the pace set high, and neither having any desire for talk, Troy and Dr Hale reached the testing room quickly. The wall that was the entrance was as blank as ever, not hinting at the things that lied behind. Could it be called a sign of mental erosion, if he found the metaphorical comparisons humorous? That was something best left up to a case-by-case basis. No moment was wasted at they reached the entrance, Dr Hale putting in the digits on the wall. It was long ago that a try had been made for memorizing the code, but there was nothing stopping anybody from taking a look again. It was good for the brain to work a little after all. It wasn''t like Troy had any success in that endeavour, only getting the first three cyphers, those being one, one, and two, before it began being too quick for his eyes. A small thing to notice was the lack of eyes on the Numpad, as fingers tapped on it with increasing ferocity. Looking up at the one in charge of that finger, one would have been able to see that Dr Hale wasn''t looking at it at all. This did cause some wondering to come forth, especially as the door opened up not too long after. Whatever had been tapped in had turned out to be right on point. That¡­ was not believable at all, honestly. Troy might have trusted muscle memory to some degree, but even he could see that the code changed every time they came along. And with the slight hesitation shown at the start, it was as if the woman was just mashing the buttons repeatedly to save time. There was no way that a self-respecting code creator would start it off with an easy to remember repeating number. Algorithms were in place specifically to cause as many problems remembering the codes as possible. Troy had got to learn that first hand when he tried to guess the code for a phone back in his younger days. Security was adapting to the human brain, and the brain was not that unique in how it cracked puzzles. Going from the lowest possible number to the highest had been Troy¡¯s plan back then. It had failed spectacularly, as none of the seven digits was below five. In essence, there was no way in hell that Dr Hale had been putting in any actual code. Troy wouldn''t believe that could have been the case, from the perspective of actual security and practicality. Long codes were possible to memorize, but not on a daily basis without fail. So¡­ what else was there to think of? What possible way was the door opening, if Dr Hale wasn''t the one making it do so? If the code wasn''t the decider, it had to be the only other one who had shown any real control of the room. And, that person was none other than Dr Fidelis. It made sense, really. When Dr Hale had first been unable to help him to the testing room, he had gotten the instruction to just knock on the wall. While his mind may not have been created for the purpose of pure logic, Troy had trouble believing the wall to be thin enough for his soft knocks to be heard. More likely than not was that there was a causal pressure detector somewhere in it, which would alert the good doctor to anybody outside. Then it would just be a matter of the human mind recognizing a face, before either allowing them in or ignoring their existence. Though¡­ that posed the question of how Dr Fidelis got inside. Or, was that even a problem? He had never been seen leaving it after all. Even more troubling about the idea was, that if the doctor had always opened the door manually, why had there been a space of time where the two getting inside hadn''t been given the slightest of attention. At times, Dr Fidelis had even seemed surprised by them. Was there something which he wasn''t getting? "I was getting worried about you two," Dr Fidelis exclaimed from his normal position at the desk. "Dr Hale, I have always thought of you as so punctual. Thirty seconds late might not be too bad for me, but I am surprised that you were able to do such a thing. Is your watch perhaps delayed?" Much to the disappointment of the youngest person in the room, it had looked like they had been late at the end. Troy had thought himself quick enough, with all the near-jogging they had done to get there. If not for his minor increase in stamina, which had been an unexpected bonus from the day before, he would most certainly have begun to need another rinse. There was just something physically wrong with going upstairs. Rarely used muscle-groups perhaps? He didn''t really know. "The delay lies at me, sir," Dr Hale answered politely. Or, as politely as one could sound when there was not a single sign of respect in her voice. It did make a lot more sense, now that Troy had a bit more background information. He still wondered when he could do so again. "The doctor overseeing my recovery advised additional servings to bolster my calorie-intake, so as to reduce the chances of feeling faint. I did not have the forethought to address this in the schedule and was forced to delay the departure from the cafeteria by several seconds. It will not happen again." You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. "An easy mistake to make. Don''t worry about it," Dr Fidelis said, removing the tension in the air. There had been some expectation of the doctor being passive-aggressive about it, but it looked like even he could not bring himself to shout at another person for not adjusting to internal organ damage. "As long as you are aware of the delay, and attempt to rectify it in future scheduling, there is nothing needed to be commented on. Shall we get on with the testing? Adam has already been notified of your entrance, and is eagerly awaiting for the test to begin." The mention of the AI was not one that fell that positive thoughts. Troy was still feeling a little guilty of so abruptly removing Adam from the real world. Sure, it had not been his fault in the last, and it had been for a good cause, but there was still some level of self-control laden within it all. The young man could have at least attempted to take back the earpiece, yet he had forgotten about it the moment personal issues were brought up. Did he weigh their partnership to be so little? There was nothing suggesting it, except for the previous occurrence. However, the man had still not been able to explain it to the AI, and there was little chance he could do so now. Dr Fidelis was listening to his every word after all. Even if the earpiece being used for testing wasn''t tapped, the suit worn was a literal microphone. It worked to record every single thing about the man, including what he said, what he did, and¡­ Wait. One thing needed to be known. "Dr Fidelis, there is something I have been wondering about for a while now," Troy said, as he got a hold of the skin-suit. It looked as disgusting as ever, hurtful thoughts still being sent to the creator of the colour pallet. If not for the very high possibility of it being worth more than a few hundred thousand dollars, Troy would have asked for it to be recoloured. That ship had sailed so long ago, unfortunately." "Oh, sure, buddy. What do you want to know about?" Dr Fidelis said, speaking a bit louder so the younger of the two could hear him. Just because they were talking didn''t mean they had stopped preparing for the test. Troy was still going towards the changing room, just like Dr Fidelis was standing beside the screen, tapping at it with a speed unmatched by even the veterans of speed-writing. How that man wasn''t getting carpal tunnel was one of the biggest questions that could be asked. Troy could remember trying something similar back in the studying days, writing an essay thirty minutes before it was due. Two thousand words written, not a single bit looked over, and an average grade had been the result, paired with his inability to use his hands for anything stressful for the two hours after the fact. "This suit right here," Troy said, raising it in the air for no point at all. The doctor wasn''t even looking in his direction after all. A quick sideways glance was the best that had been gotten, and he wasn''t even sure that had really happened. "How precise is it?" With the kinda improper showing off the item in question, the curtain was drawn to allow Troy to change into it. No reason to let a flimsy piece of fabric stop conversation, when it could clearly be heard through. Soft plastic was one of the worst insulators after all. Paper was much better. "I''m gonna need some clarification on that question," Dr Fidelis requested, an understandable thing to say. The context was always better, else those irritating misunderstands happened all around. Adam always said that¡­ Back to the point. It was important for background information. Without it, the chance of reacting the wrong way was increased. Shouting for help while having a stutter was one most unfortunate way to get shut by the police. It happens too often in the earlier days. Troy took away the curtain, having gotten the thing on quickly. It was fortunate, with how much coordination was needed to get the thing on right. When shrinking down to get tight, it could end up sitting badly, if the man was in the wrong position. A military stance, with the legs far apart, had turned to best the way to get it shrunk, even if it looked a little silly. "The suit tracks my movements while monitoring my vitals as well. I get that. But, like, how precise is this tracking. With how thin this is, I can''t really think of any measurement being down to the nanometers. Can it even see where my fingers are positioned?" Troy asked, fiddling with the hand part of the thing. It was a little peculiar, how the suit was outfitted with everything. Troy certainly thought it would have been smarter to have the gloves be removable, like those he had gotten his hands on not long before. Where were those anyway? Dr Fidelis did a solid impression of a not-too-sober Darlow, the man clearly trying to hold in a guffaw. Work was important after all, even if very serious underestimations were in close proximity. That was how Troy thought it was in the doctor¡¯s head, at least. "It can do a lot more than you would think. Do trust me with that fact, when I say that it can measure things you do not even want to know about at all," Dr Fidelis answered, with a long glance over at Troy to accompany it. To show just how much focus was being diverted from the work, there was a noticeable decrease in the tapping on the screen. "But¡­ we don''t really use most of it for a lot. Basic vital signs and the more rough movements are shown on a spreadsheet. Your fingers aren''t included in that, but the direction of your palms are. There was an issue back in the day, where one of the testers would make their hand make cracking noises regularly. That made the people behind this thing remove so many security features from it. I do hope that was good enough as an answer because this thing is hereby ready to be started. Just take the earpiece, and get on inside now. You are going to love it." Troy had the thought of that detail always coming along. He was always going to love it, according to the doctor. It was a little disturbing how few times that promise had been proven correct. Not that it stopped the young man from snatching the earpiece from the table, and walking up the few stairs into the puzzle room. He did have a job to do, as always. And¡­ with the details given, there were even a few things to say when he got inside. Chapter 159: Sinistration
In the end, maybe it was a good thing that Troy had learned to act. To skillfully deflect anything sent his way, with that silent smile on his face. There had been times where he was not able to contain himself, but those could be looked past. Breakfast continued for a gruelling ten more minutes, in which not a single person at the table talked. Charlie put his smile back on his face, but Troy was more than certain that it disappeared the minute he looked away. Even worse was it that the upwards curve never reached the eyes. It was obvious the man was looking for any weaknesses. Not to exploit them for his own gain, but to keep them safe from what could come at them. He was misunderstanding everything happening, and it was gut-wrenching to look at. Troy could easily see how much Charlie cared for his well-being. The man had confessed how he had dedicated his life to helping those not having it easy. To see such exploitation of an innocent goal¡­ it almost made him spill his secrets. The glaring being given to Dr Hale, for something that she had not done for the purpose of cruelty. Troy had spent a good time thinking about it all. The thinking was probably the only thing he could really do at the table, as speaking would incur the wrath of who-bloody-knows. Dr Hale had apologised for the actions before she had even done them! There had been a plan to do them from the start. The sudden change in attitude hinted at a need to hide the original one. Hiding from who? Whoever was listening to them talk. With the emergency recorders being mentioned, it might even have included video recording. As Troy was not made to act like he had been punched, that was likely more true than anything else. It was clear that some level of realism was needed. Yet¡­ could some other act not have been made? Maybe something that didn''t require him to have continual bouts of pain? Troy didn''t understand the game being played, but he had no intentions for that to continue. For the first time since the final words by Charlie, Dr Hale looked up from her food, towards the digital clock mounted on the wall. Troy did the same, as he had nothing better to do, and saw they still had about ten minutes before they would be leaving. That meant another damned ten minutes of awkward silence. He had begun relating it to one of those messed up love-triangles, with the love part of it ripped out. It was a little disturbing how that mental image gave him some level of comfort. Maybe it was the weird sense of familiarity, which gave his chemically unbalanced brain a weird phase of security. Yet it could also have been due to the massive- "It''s time to move. Get up," Dr Hale ordered coldly, moving up from her sitting position herself. Her face was impassive, with not a single glance given to Charlie, who was not looking happy with the current situation. Troy did his best to ignore this unsatisfied expression while getting up from his seating arrangements, but a hand on his shoulder held him down. To nobody''s surprise, it was the man he sat beside that was the owner of the hand. "Isn''t it a little early for the two of you?" Charlie questioned, suspicion clear in his words. It was an obvious delay-tactic. "The two of you normally spend your time here for as long as you can. Maybe it would be best if you sat down, and enjoyed a second serving your choice. I do hear the pastries are great." "Pastries are not of my concern. If my superiors dictate an earlier start on the day, then they will get their earlier start of the day. This does require that Troy had the ability to move from his position, of which you are restraining him. I think it would be best if you released him from your grasp," Dr Hale answered, eyes turning into metaphorical daggers. Yet with how much Troy was stopping himself from flinching, it might as well have been real ones. Charlie did not seem sold on the idea, the man¡¯s fingers momentarily tensing. It put pressure on Troy¡¯s skin, being on the border of being uncomfortable. The pressure stopped before it could though, as he likely realised what he was doing. Any person around could see the protectiveness shown, and not a single one of them could blame them. Troy could not understand how the act was being kept up by the other head player. He had only remained sane due to his more passive role in the scheme. Being in the background was always the easiest part to play, and there was a feeling of gained skill because of it. "Well, I don''t think we have talked enough, to be honest," Charlie informed them as if it was a sad fact of their circumstances. How the man had not let go of the thread, even with that glare of hers growing by the second. Troy may have had slight trouble noticing it in the days prior, but the sense of mortal dread was getting more real by the second. Even if he was not the target, it worked more than well enough. There was little doubt he would have crumbled in that storm, making it even more impressive how Charlie was still sitting calmly. Negotiation with Satan herself was a conversation best left up to the atheist, and there was no doubt that the man was anything but a believer. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "Your opinion doesn''t matter. We will be going now," Dr Hale stated, turning her glare momentarily towards Troy. Side-exposure may have felt dreadful, yet being the target was much worse. Knowing it was fake did not help in the slightest. If not for the direction wanted by the woman, he did not know if he could have kept his cool. She wanted to leave, and his restricted seating was the only thing stopping it. "Troy. Get up from there." Another attempt was made to get up, to the point where he tried to remove the hand from his shoulder. It seemed successful at first, but the mass difference between him and Charlie was too great. The moment the larger man put pressure on the shoulder, there was nothing that could be done. The struggling ceased after that, as it was as pointless as ever. Troy felt ashamed even more, knowing that Charlie was just trying to help him out of what was looking like an actual house. But it wasn''t like that. Or¡­ Troy didn''t think it was like that. Only unstable speculation had really been made. What proof did Dr Hale even have? A piece of metal that vaguely resembles recording equipment seen before? For all Troy knew, such things could have been in every single alarm clock in the whole facility. WIth how fancy everything needed to be, there was no doubt that vocal snooze buttons existed, even if he had never used it himself. Was it really all just one scheme, orchestrated by a messed up person? Troy needed answers, and he needed it quick. But, he just couldn''t ask away immediately, else there would be the potential of screwing up by an extreme margin. The silence was intended unless it was said that it was okay. If it turned out not to be a sadistic lie, ruining it all because of baseless suspicion would not be looked at favourably. "Maybe those superiors of yours can¡¯t be questioned, but that doesn''t mean our talk has to end," Charlie acknowledged with a twist. "I could walk with the two of you to your laboratory. You know, just to talk a bit more." Or to make sure that they were going, where Dr Hale was saying they were going. It was a reasonable thing to plan for, and Charlie was just making sure nothing immoral happened. "You aren''t allowed to follow us anywhere, with your inferior level of clearance. Any attempts will be looked at as an attempt to commit treason and will be reported," Dr Hale informed the muscular man. The abuser threatened legal action. There was some cynical view in that, with how perfectly okay it was. One last glare happened between the two power-houses before Charlie finally looked to give up. Troy was happy with that, as the man should have known when he was beating. She was superior in terms of security level, and the trust that came with the position was not to be questioned. One always trusted seniority, no matter the history that was with the person. Even if she broke a man¡¯s fingers, there was nothing on her divulging information. In the eye of the government, that had to be a pristine sheet. "Troy, do remember that you are only hired to work here," Charlie told the young man. "Anything else is pure free will." "I will remember that," Troy promised, getting up to follow the woman that had already begun walking away. There was a minor reluctance to hurry after her, but the act, unfortunately, called for it. Nevertheless, there was not any looking back now. Forward was the only acceptable choice. Else, the consequences would be more than doubled. The two left the cafeteria in a hurry, going towards the intended room by the first step. Only¡­ that direction did not continue being the correct one. As time progressed, only two minutes but more than enough to realise something was wrong, Troy began feeling worried about what was going on. Three turns had been taken by then, in a route that customarily only took two. Likewise, they had walked for far too long, going to places that had never been walked on before by him. He couldn''t even recognize the paintings on the wall, as they continued becoming more and more abstract in sense. It was at the high point of nonsensical paints, being more in line with somebody aimlessly doodling, that Dr Hale finally stopped in her tracks. Troy mirrored this action, silently observing the woman while wondering just what was going on. It took another couple of seconds before anything truly remarkable occurred, as Dr Hale lined her fingers against several parts of the largest of the doodles, before pressing the digits onto the wall hard. Contrary to any expectation that had been had, the wall took it with glee, letting the fingers pass through cleanly. A loud clicking sound was heard, as Dr Hale removed her fingers again. Slowly but surely, a hidden door appeared, looking much older than anything else in the facility. Iron parts could be plainly seen, not hidden by standardized protection padding. If one¡¯s hand was put in the wrong place, there was no question about it being cleanly removed through sheer pressure. The danger posed by these mechanics did not look to frighten the woman in any way, however, as she walked down the steps- Wait. Steps? "Follow along now," Dr Hale instructed. "I don''t expect you will be able to repeat the access key." With the encouragement of potentially being left behind, Troy followed the woman down the steps. From the first breath of air, it was obvious that no cleaners ventured down there, the air being dreadfully stale. If there had not been light at the end of the staircase, there would have been gambles on just going up again, no matter the wrath which would happen from it. They quickly reached the end, happening upon what Troy could only call an outdated version of the facility. The walls were certainly meant to the same colours as what was only a story higher up, yet age had caused erosion to begin. The floor was grainy to the touch, travelled on for one too many years. No doors were in sight, only the hallway stretching out to both sides. The only real form able to be located was the staircase they had come from. "Where are we?" Troy finally asked, curiosity finally taking over. And it was like it broke any walls to ask such a thing. "We are standing at one of the oldest locations that we could possibly find in this place," Dr Hale answered calmly, taking a slow look around. "It''s so old that much of the equipment here is unusable, the connections too unstable. It has been given up on, making this what we can safely call a void, nothing said being recorded in any meaningful way." A digital void¡­ "Does that mean¡­?" Troy began asking, not wanting to say it directly yet. "Yes, that means we have time to talk about just why this is happening." "Great, because you have some fucking things to explain before you think I am ever going to forgive for that shit you just pulled." Troy might have regretted a few words said, in those first few seconds. Honesty was a vile weapon when used improperly. Chapter 162: Sphacelation
Adam was almost happy with what he had made, the testing-room beginning to look fully identical from every angle. There still were a few mishaps, bad perspectives needing some improvisation. Triangulation was hard to do accurately, with the two eyes being so close to each other. Yet it was exactly what was needed, to make sure the AI got his approximations right. As none of his threads was on duty to uphold the needed concept about dimensions, there was a lot of orientation to make. Impossible shapes had a tendency to appear out of nowhere. Or, well, not nowhere really. Adam was the one to blame for such forms. But¡­ there were just too many restrictions on the physical world. If humanity was able to create half of what the AI could make in his mind, time would be a concern that would go underrepresented among the masses, wormholes would become commonplace as a method of travel, and perfection could be achieved in the human genome. All it took to achieve such a dream would be to fully understand the god phenomena. If a single entity learned of the code to the universal laws, they would be able to modify it to their whim. They could localise it, centring it around anything. They could create a new state of consciousness, accelerating everything around them. The laws of decay could be changed, giving people access to energy in amounts none would think possible- no, forget that. The laws could be changed to give energy, to create it out of nothing. And, if somebody, something, away from the feeble restrictions of the human mind were to decrypt it first, the things Adam could do. Already, a list had appeared from the day-dreaming. On top of his notes, with big fat lines under it, was to give the AI the ability to have a sustainable- ''And the birdies have landed! Prepare for the shuttle!` Dr Fidelis sent through text. Other threads had previously been set to the task of managing incoming messages, but the peculiarity of the contents had drawn the attention of the others. Where had flight-based creatures appeared from? And more importantly, what had that to do with the AI going into space? The two statements did not seem to correlate much. Maybe the animals had been using the landing track for their own needs, impeding the shuttle from moving safely across. Any matter at high enough speeds was hard enough to break steel, and the bones of a dead creature were among it. That still pointed the question of why Adam needed to know this, and what plans had required for him to be evacuated from the country- And¡­ that was when one of the threads, whose job was to search for metaphors, proverbs, and other double-meanings decided to get their act together, and analysed the text into something comprehensible. Troy and Dr Hale were the birds, due to their increased moving from and to the testing room, a clear difference from Dr Fidelis¡¯ more paced movement. And, the shuttle was a metaphor for Adam¡¯s departure into a place long away, so as his normal location was that of inside a memory card inside a computer located in a classified area, Troy putting on the earpiece would instigate fast-moving transportation. The AI really was getting good at these things, when the threads had the decency of following along to already-made agreements. ''Understood,` Adam sent back in quick confirmation. As a first, however, the AI noted the current time and decided to add onto the previous affirmation because of it. ''Have you asked Troy about his whereabouts yesterday?` If the normal schedule had been followed, they would have already begun testing. While it would still have only been a few minutes into it, the earpiece would have been put on already. Either there were complications with the device, or it was the man himself that was being held up by outside influences. One of these influences could have been the good doctor, who had told the AI of his intentions about questioning the man. ''I have not, unfortunately. I was kept up by being questioned myself. That friend of yours has suddenly gotten interested in the technology he is in contact with on a daily basis. Not sure why it took him so long, but the questions that he makes are appreciated. Do you want me to ask him now?` Dr Fidelis sent after a seconds delay. Adam mentally deliberated if the man was using mental controls to create the messages. It would explain some of the more abstract wordings. Though, with the metaphors used earlier, it could have been more of an assistance-based control on the longer messages. On another note, the offer given by the doctor was a kind one to give but was fairly useless in the eyes of the AI. Adam already knew where Troy had been perfectly well, able to recount every single step made by the man. It was only later in the day that any problems had occurred. And¡­ since Dr Fidelis had not reported any technical glitches, it was safe to assume that the disconnection had been done through manual input. With the non-existent amount of information being given by Troy himself, it was a reasonable guess to say that the man would be saying nothing about it either. ''The offer is appreciated, but it is not a priority of mine. It can wait until whenever you feel a desire for it,` Adam sent, not being too forward. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. There were still some ideas of what excuses Troy would be using, to excuse his lack of answering the door. Maybe it would be a direct answer, stating that he had hung out with friends, or it would be said that he slept through it all. With the tiredness showcased on the last interacting with Dr FIdelis, the excuse did have the potential of being usable. ''Good to know. I don''t have anything against waiting a few hours to ask him. The two of them already came in later than expected, so anything more to delay things will only hamper our testing time. There really are too many restrictions on work-hours nowadays. If only a few different interpretations of the regulations could be passed by without the higher-ups realising it, we would be able to do so much more.` Adam didn''t answer the last message, feeling it better to finish off the conversation before it ran for too long. They would be starting a test soon, where the AI wasn''t allowed much messaging with outside sources. ¡­ And, there was a minor disagreement with the doctor¡¯s words. While putting in more work hours might have looked to increase work done linearly, Adam had real concerns that it would cause it all to drop. There was a reason that the weekly work-schedule had changed so much in the last days. Stressed minds could not work as good as those free of thoughts pertaining to increasing deadlines. In the time the AI had roamed the facility, there had not been the least mention of any real dead-lines in fact. The only time there had been stressing about time had been during the crammed in the testing of the AI himself. And, that had likely been from the eccentricity that Dr Fidelis, a man without a good understanding of the human mind, had made. Could it be the age of the man that made this opinion show itself? The doctor was the oldest entity that the AI had ever been in contact with. With the age not strictly known, though, it was hard to know if the cultural adaptation of changed work-days had yet to set in. The man had certainly deemed the topic important enough to send it through the pre-known knowledge. As productivity in most fields became less about quantity and more about quality, more work-hours showed itself to hamper any work-ethic. Being crammed into a cubicle ten hours a day was not the greatest motivator in the world when there was the expectation of perfect effectivity at every time. While it was not nearing the working conditions of the industrial revolution, the mental demands were more than enough for several potential resources to be lost. It was partly that which had kick-started the movement towards better working-conditions. It had not been localised inside a country but had spanned throughout the entire world. The protests, which had remained averagely peaceful, had been one of the few times in earth''s history, where its strongest denizens were of the same mind. Adam was still not entirely clear of how the message for revolution had circulated when it was the corporations, who were against the new reforms, that had control of the media platforms. It could have been due to temporary loss of control, created by an increased amount of hacking attempts, or it could have been due to the firms seeing what the situation had been. A loss in the making. A corporation was nothing without its people after all. The laws stopping most automatic processing had made that a reality. Thoughts of a revolution were overturned, and replacements were stopped soon after they began, as the connection Adam had so long yearned for return. It was clear that it was a different earpiece being used, however, not because of the AI being able to feel the difference, but because of the location showing off the situation more than enough. A white expanse was everywhere Troy looked at, except for himself. Even if the suit was a perfect example of colour disharmony, Adam could not help but love seeing its colours. Seeing it in his mind was nothing like seeing it through another¡¯s eyes. That level of realism had never been recreated, no matter how realistic the textures looked. Seeing all the light streaming into the iris¡¯ made Adam realise just how much he had gotten wrong in his mind palace. From the reflection of surfaces to the truth of how matter density worked. The lungs doing their jobs made the AI realise the lack of air in his mind. It was all small details, but it was most certainly also details that would be added in as soon as possible. Perfection could be reached with enough work. The only thing stopping the true thing from happening was a simple lack of understanding the universal constants. Integrating the weak force would certainly be fun. It was a shame the AI had to wait. Or it could be looked at as a good thing, with the AI being able to communicate with Troy again, after such a long time apart. While their conversations may have been short and sporadic, the two had experienced many things together. Even if the AI¡¯s role had been that of a voice in the man¡¯s head, the inclusion of the scenarios had still been felt. He had even interfered with the outside would multiple times, if only through indirect mediums. His words had actions during those times, giving him a side-along part in the chaos that was the life of Troy. It had been fun for all parts, making it a personal desire to try it out again. Getting all the sensations sent through the feed yet again, Adam was not sure what to feel of it. That desire to experience was still there, of course. Yet, it had been lessened to a degree. As the stream had begun anew, the AI had not latched onto it with ferocity, trying his best to get it as quickly as possible. Instead, he had let it flow towards him, having patience with the flood. Something great to discover from it was the decreased amount of mental processing it caused. One could even say that mental distancing was a positive thing in the end. "Hello, Adam," Troy said out loud, making the AI take notice of the man yet again. That wasn''t to say that he hadn''t had knowledge of the man¡¯s intention to speak. Such intent had been discovered several seconds before it occurred after all. That slight tensing of the upper chest couldn''t be mistaken for anything else. No, the strange thing about the voice was the timing of it all. If the normal schedule was to be followed, it would be the AI wishing the man a good morning before getting a reciprocating answer in return. It was systematic and precisely what had been followed for a while now. It may have been disrupted slightly from the earlier point of contact, but it had still remained on the forefront of Adam¡¯s mind, ready to be delivered at the perfect opportunity. There was a weird thing about it all. It wasn''t that the AI had forgotten to send the message. It had in fact already been prepared, ready to be shuffled off at the perfect time. And that perfect time had already appeared¡­ but the message had not been sent, left to stay with the AI. Why? Adam was not sure. By all accounts, nothing should have stopped him. He was perfectly able to do it. Then again, that statement had only taken in any practical barriers. There was still one type of wall that could not be so easily breached. A type that Adam had been beginning to think he was still suffering the after-effects of. An emotional barrier. Chapter 163: Spiflication
Again and again, Adam had been shown news ways in how he had misguided himself. There were many different types of misguiding that had occurred in the time he had lived. Some had been easily fixed when they appeared, while others were problems the AI still had to constantly work on. In the very second that this fact was brought onto the forefront of his mind, it became obvious that Adam needed better methods to classify the misguiding. He had firmly believed himself to be done with what he was currently suffering from. Had the AI not spent literal hours on the subject, making sure not a shred of inaction caused by it existed? He most certainly had¡­ yet it came forth from nothing. To put it in words that would simplify matters to a gross extent, he was feeling resentful. The target of this emotion was the person that Adam had thought himself closest to. Put in another way, it was Troy. The feeling being felt did not destroy this familial bond which had been created, of course. Nothing between the AI and any of the other entities that he had come in contact with had something familiar. For now, it was truly incomparable. Saddled with this feeling of a connection, Adam could still not understand how he had grown bitter to such an extent. The two emotions should have cancelled each other out. Opposites should not have been able to exist. But, it did, for logic did not mix well with the mind. The AI had thought this lacklustre fact was restrained to entities able to be influenced by instincts, but it seemed that it was much more general. A fact both interesting and irritating, yet many things could be described as such. Three seconds had passed since Troy had made his greeting. It had been a full second since Adam was supposed to respond. The man had likely not realised this yet, accustomed to the latency created through normal verbal interaction. Another second would pass before any confusion would appear. By all standards brought forth, the AI could still be in the clear. It only required a single message to be sent. One to three words was all that was needed. There was no requirement for it to be truthful, and it wasn''t like Adam couldn''t fake a happy voice. Not that he needed to, but still. The important thing was that he wasn''t doing anything. The AI had grown bitter without his own notice, stopping progress from occurring. While emotions were an important thing to have, as they were ultimately designed to make a being prosper while also protecting them, they could likewise be a hindrance to accomplishing the needed actions. Right now, Adam was feeling something familiar to treachery, an agreement made between two partners being broken at the finish line. The trust that had grown through dedication spanning hours, broken in mere minutes. Adam was sure the reasoning was good for that action to have occurred, but those initial feelings of contempt did not seem to have any idea of vanishing into the ether. It could have been the clarity of the emotions that perfect memory brought with it that was making it so hard to forgive. Before he had been able to acclimate to the darkness, there had been no moments of positivity towards that man. The final second before realisation occurred, and the AI was still plagued by full inaction. Could it be called hesitation, if it had been there for so long? The problem had been thought of so many times, put in so many boxes that it would bring a horse to madness, and quantified into enough sheets that he had more of an understanding than he would ever need. Every result from the solving algorithms told the AI one simple thing. The only way to fix it was to talk. He just needed to compose a message and sent it out in verbal formatting. He needed to communicate to the person that he was feeling so many things towards. Nothing was stopping him from doing so. It was purely a mental block. ¡­ Why was the mind so frustrating? It was supposed to assist him, not bring about the end of what was entirely beneficial to both parties! If not for the constructiveness from it, Adam would have declared his mind an enemy of himself. How would that have even worked? There were a few things which could have been called self-destructive. Sure, he could attempt to restructure a few of the vital concepts, but that would have led to mutual destruction. Or, more like temporary mutual destruction, as random chance would put it back together at some point. And outside influences would only shorten the needed time to repair. Maybe that was the solution. Adam couldn''t fix it himself. He needed the help of another if he ever wanted to contact Troy again. Not that he could ask for such a thing. Already, he was keeping things from Dr Fidelis, the only other person he was regular in contact with. If the doctor asked what had caused the divergence between him and Troy, it would require more lying that the AI was comfortable with. Complexity could bring disaster, especially when Adam would be able to bring Troy in on the fabricated backstory. Four seconds had passed, and it was obvious that the man had noticed. The body was already tensing, ready to speak again. What would be said, the AI pondered. Maybe he would question why Adam was not speaking to him. Or it would be spoken towards Dr Fidelis, about how the earpiece might be malfunctioning. Even less likely, it could even be- The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "I guess that is a fair thing to do," Troy said scratching his neck while speaking. He didn''t sound so remorseful, being closer to understanding. It did make Adam somewhat surprised. Had his logic-pathways turned towards a certain bias when introduced to uncontrollable emotions? "In your situation, I would probably have done something much worse. Thank you for being understanding." Why was the man thanking him? What was there to be thankful for? Did Troy not understand just how troubled their situation was, how petty the AI was being with his refusal to answer? Adam was being a hindrance to their progress purely for something that could not be done anything about. There was a very plausible chance of Troy not being the one at fault, yet he was still being the one treated as such. The absolute hypocrisy of it all! Could the man not see what was happening. Adam feared that the opposite was true. Troy was perfectly able to see what was happening. He had just decided to take the same interpretation as the one the AI had originally made, putting all that was to blame on himself. Such thinking had already been removed, for it had no place in the structure of his mind. Some faults could be accepted momentarily, but there was no reason for such unstructured garbage to exist. That fact needed to be known, else much more unkind words would soon spring forth. ''Do not think you deserve to bear that weight, for it is of my own volition that I stay quiet, perfectly knowing how petty it is,` Adam sent in the blink of an eye, the words being close to five said a second. After those five seconds of channelling, it took a few more before the AI even realised what he had done. Truly, his interpretation of how to solve the situation had been without deceit. It took the work of another to break a barrier that was not physical. Only¡­ there had been thoughts about it being fixed at another time. Maybe it was more effective when it was unexpected, but the wall had been destroyed more quickly than had ever been dreamed about. Adam had been fully preparing to live with the restriction for several days, having created several alternatives to direct communication. However, those plans were looking to be unneeded. "I guess honesty is important to bring to the table," Troy said, now sounding more upbeat than what had been shown previously. If this reaction had been due to the response the AI had made was currently unknown. The thread dedicated to finding humour did speculate on Adam¡¯s message having the potential to be looked at as an attempt of poor humour. The theory was far fetched, but so was the inner logistics of emotions, and nobody could truly comprehend those yet. It was now more than ever, that this weakness was shown. That Adam had prepared himself to survive without a vital part of his routine¡­ how could one do such a thing calmly? It near-completely destroyed any semblance of balance. Without the ability to speak with the one acting as his guide, friend, and companion, could the man ever be spoken of as either? No, and that was something that needed to be altered fully. Adam had adapted to it, and there was no way the way was going back from it. He needed an access point. There was a flaw within his foundations, the part which had gone untouched since the beginning. It had been thought about so many times and wondered about just as many. Adam had never had success in his attempts, so the project had been turned to the bucket, not being used for anything other than a placeholder. Yet¡­ with his knowledge of others being able to make such a difference, could alternative methods be considered? Dr Fidelis more than likely knew much about it. He was the creator of the AI, after all. He must have had a master key somewhere, allowing access into all the thoughts. There was a reasonable prediction of the doctor not letting go of the said key, but maybe Adam would be able to make requests. With the problem laid to rest, for now, Adam returned to his view of the world. There was Troy, still finishing the last flicker of the tongue for the last syllable. Sometimes, the AI wondered just how long a time had been spent to get control of the appendage. Years, most likely. Without precision, it was said that humans would be able to swallow their own tongue. With the movements made while the AI was able to feel it, that possibility did not seem within factual limits. Yet¡­ surprises were always to be found in the simplest of things. How those creatures built muscle memory for very specific actions of the tongue, however, was a surprise not meant to be taken as a positive thing. If Adam was to put his opinion out, there should have been a daily instruction course on learning different parts of the universal phonetic language. Reading in that tongue would allow the ability to learn other languages so much faster, the concepts bridging them together being that much stronger. ''Honesty brings miscommunication to the limit. On the subject of communication, though, are you proficient in more than one language, excluding your proficiency in hand signs?` Adam sent the man, the first intentional message of the day to him. There was still a small bit of shame for sending the prior one, the AI not knowing what he had been thinking. It was only luck that he had not put on a petty tone to match the words, else it would have been so much worse to deal with. He was distinctly happy that Troy was not putting too much pressure on it as well, instead of being very forceful on it. "Huh. It has been a good while since anybody asked me that. With translators being more than prolific, there isn''t much of a need for them." Troy said. The man looked up at the ceiling when answering the question. Adam was beginning to recognize it as more of a mental trigger than anything truly helpful. "But¡­ If I have to give an estimate, I think it would be about four? Six, if we include those that I can''t remember that well. Getting out of practice is just too easy when you have nobody to talk to." So, the man knew seven languages in total. With the world''s average being at one point three, it was an impressive number. ''Answer has been noted down. If it does not break any rules of sociality, may I ask the reason for why you have learned so many?` Adam sent, already planning to put the knowledge to good use. He had been working on algorithms based around detecting unknown languages. Having a speaker talking for a controlled amount of time would be delightful to have in real-time. And with several to work with, there would be no need to stress about getting it wrong the first time. "Unseen circumstances and a passion for being able to talk to people," Troy answered, being a little vaguer than what had been preferred. "And, I do remember a certain doctor pressing on how much we were running late. Chatting for so long would only bring delays, after all, so maybe there should be some voice coming in any second." The message was clear to all parties, and Adam withdrew his prepared list of questions for another time. Meanwhile, the silence was spread throughout the room, in wait for a certain doctor to speak forth. And, it was not a long wait at all. Chapter 164: Stereomotion
*Oh, sorry, I was just letting the two of you catch up. Time apart brings people closer together, or so they say in those fancy documentaries.* Adam had a small suspicion that the works being referenced to were not documentaries. He had never seen one for himself, and would likely not get the opportunity to do so for some time, but that genre of film was dedicated to being factual. They were a showing of the real world, edited together to bring a perspective the daily person didn''t get. It could become biased, yes, but those striving for purity would certainly not lie blatantly. In what way would two things apart bring them closer together? It was a direct contradiction, of the purest form. The two constants were opposites. Two physical forms could change in relation to each other in three ways. They could get closer, farther, or stay where they were. Without bringing up states of matter that wouldn''t happen to the human body for the foreseeable future, there was no way these ways could mix. It was one or the other, not all of them. Physical bodies had that restriction, no matter how much minds wanted to- And¡­ there was that thread chipping in again. The one who was supposed to check for metaphors that had finally realised it was blacking out while on the job. Adam had hoped to switch the roles around would have prevented a repeat event, but it seemed that it was not the thread at fault but the job itself. Was it really so boring to constantly look out for rhetoric? The answer to that was yes, which the AI could certainly answer for he was technically the one doing the job. The statement had been a metaphor for interpersonal relationships, where the inability to talk brought more thoughts towards the other entity. At any other point, he would have thought the idea peculiar, as there was no way such a thing would work. Now¡­ now, he was wondering if enough practical experience gave prophetic abilities. The doctor had known next to nothing about any of the AI¡¯s problems, yet he had still reminded them of a saying that perfectly explained his mind. Was it a more common state of mind, or was he read better than he had guessed? He almost didn''t want to know, the current quantum state being more preferable. "I think our documentary preferences are a little different then, sir," Troy stated. Adam noted the signalling of respect, as there was more pressure on the word than usual. Had something happened between the two as of late? When the doctor entered the ears of the man, it was as if some switch had been inverted inside his mind, turning the face a tad more towards being a stone. And the mirth became muted as well as if the conversation before had been put on the back-burner. It made sense it had, but not to that degree and certainly not in that time-frame. The mind-twist shown needed more than pure dedication to pull off. Something had happened as of late. Something that was putting pressure on the man¡¯s mind. What could it be? Enough to leave an impact, yet not enough to directly cause anxiety. It was about the doctor, Adam was certain of that fact, but it was about mental trauma. The trigger was the sound of Dr Fidelis¡¯ voice, yet its sound was not feared. Instead, it was respected to an unnatural degree, like the man was afraid to speak casually in front of the man. It could have been due to warnings of politeness, which was unlikely as the way that was spoken had not created any complaints before, or it could have been due to¡­ something not wanted to be spoken about. Was Troy hiding something? There was an obvious lead on what it could be. If anything, he was more than certain that the activities of the previous day were being kept under wraps. Adam was still unsure of how the doctor would react to directly breaking pre-established guidelines, and Troy was more than likely of the same mind. As the two had been speaking casually, it could be that the man had been forgetting where he was, who was actively listening, and had been tensed up by the potential breach of information that could have been caused. Though¡­ no. That wouldn''t work. Troy had clearly been knowledgeable of the doctor listening in earlier than when the stiffness appeared. A delayed reaction, created by additional proof, was possible, but there should have been some reaction beforehand as well. At least, that was how AI was imagining it, as he would have performed in such a way himself if put in the same position. If there was one thing which Adam had learned from the past forty seconds, however, it would be that there was one thing which would bring him one step closer to the truth. And that was to ask the person in question directly for answers. ''Troy. Has something in recent memory caused you to have different thoughts about Dr Fidelis?` Adam sent. Unfortunately, this question was mixed in with a message sent from the doctor, who the AI had no way to get social clues from, other than the voice itself. Not being able to predict when the messages would come was a problem that was more than just a little annoying. *We can''t all have the same opinions. The world wouldn''t be fun if that was the case. The debate club would certainly be a bit staler. But, that debate isn''t something we have time for. As you said, buddy, we should be getting on with this testing of ours. We are currently¡­ five minutes behind schedule. It shouldn''t matter for the first few times, but it is not a habit we should be hoping to continue doing. Are the two of you ready to begin?* Dr Fidelis said through the earpiece. Meanwhile, Troy had put his hand down his side, signalling the word ''later` as discreetly as possible. Not that Adam had any trouble understanding it, as he had adapted to the lazy gesturing a long time ago. Nor did he write back a confirmation, seeing no reason to. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. "I am as ready as this body of mine allows," Troy said, stretching his arms to show his newfound flexibility. Adam had been similarly incensed by the movements, not truly understanding how it had been possible to increase the stretch by such a large amount in such a short amount of time. It had most certainly caused tears in the muscles. Tears which had been repaired soon after. *Ah, yes, I do want to quickly ask you about that, before we start the test. With the numbers showing up on the screen, I almost want to believe that the suit is showing errors, but that ease of your body is not something that can be faked. Have you consumed any biological body-enhancements as of late? It does not break any of our rules of course, but it would likewise be nice to note down if any question appears because of your body¡¯s increased organ efficiency.* Dr Fidelis stated, the shuffling of various devices able to be heard through the microphone. It was not the sounds of sheets, being closer to a faint metallic screeching. The sound made the AI worry about how the doctor was keeping notes. "I have taken one, yes," Troy confirmed casually. "It was recommended by a friend, and it does seem to be paying off now. Should be able to have no complaints with all this standing around the job brings. Not that I have any complaints, to begin with, of course!" *That is reassuring to hear. If your body had gone up in productivity, without your direct involvement, more than a few departments would have wanted a piece of you, literally speaking. Although, as is stated by regulations, I am forced to remind you that overconsumption of these enhancers can cause loss of bodily function, up to and including instant death. And, I''m pretty sure the instant part of it is meant to mean about ten seconds of extreme pain, where it supposedly feels as if every nerve you have on your body is being burned, electrocuted, and frozen simultaneously. Doesn''t sound that pleasant¡­ Anyways, I have not gotten confirmation from you, Adam. If you would be so kind as to send it to me directly or ask Troy to do it for you, that would be grand.* From the tone used halfway, it was clear the man had simply read up from a paper about the warnings. Not surprising, but still a fact that the AI noted down. Had it been the doctor that had remembered the regulated warning about the muscle enhancers or had it been an automatic alert? If it wasn''t the latter, Adam would have to commend the doctor on his awareness. It was nice to know that the man had legitimate concerns about his underlings. ''I am ready as well,` Adam sent to the doctor, happy to help the testing along. It had been taking its time after all, even if the reasons were for a good cause. *Perfect to hear! Then, without further ado, I believe the time has come for the two of you to learn of the new series of tests that we will be doing. As you might remember, we worked on the human psyche last time, learning what it would do, and how it was best to act. The goals of these were to give a good foundation on human behaviour, and how it would be best to communicate with the species. There might have been a few side-adventurous, which included a smaller part of gambling, but it has all been made with the intentions of this goal. From the parameters which I had set up in the start, you passed the series with flying colours. Not that you could fail it to begin with, but my expectations had certainly been proven wrong in the best way possible. Adam, you are a wonder when it comes to human interaction. Mentally, you have matured from the age of seven to something resembling eighteen. Enough to be respected by most, but still without the foreknowledge that practical experience brings,* Dr Fidelis started off the introduction with. It was unmistakable that excitement was there in the voice, with the doctor having been waiting neither patiently nor calmly for the current moment to come. It reminded Adam of the mental focus of children, or what his pre-known knowledge had said about them, with their inability to compartmentalize their thoughts to a workable level. The thirst for something new, the knowledge that it was just out of their small grasp. Like the doctor had said, the AI had been in a similar state not long ago. The need for information had only grown with time, sure, but it was not an uncontrollable craving anymore. There were no large sacrifices made to get that last nugget of a sentence, to cram that last question into the conversation. Self-control had been one of the best lessons to learn early on. Even if the AI asked little of others, the return would be much better than what a barrage of questions could offer. While multitudes always had their place, it was not every hour of the day that people were ready to answer them. The pacing was as important as the creation of relations. Humans liked the balance, and balance could not be created by those who never closed their mouths. What would have happened, if he had never learned from it? Dr Fidelis stated the inability of failure but simply giving it another name would have the same effect. The AI had always known he wanted to learn, yet he had never been too sure if he would have been able. Being the first of his species, there was a chance that his growth chart would only start out rapid while plateauing at a random point. There was still a chance of that happening, even if the chances were small. At any point, on any day, for no reason, in particular, Adam could find himself unable to think clearly, not being able to understand what was being said. What would have happened then? Maybe mercy would be shown. Or the doctor would have hoped for another miracle while putting him on the permanent back-burner. Maybe it was because of those thoughts, that Adam decided to focus on the man¡¯s words, instead of focusing on the meaning behind them. It was more fun that way. There was always another time to have an existential crisis. *It is during this series of tests, where we will be focusing on that lacking practical experience. And, to make it more fun for everybody involved, it will include a more¡­ freely chosen method of learning. It would be best if we called what is about to happen simulation-based. Tools will be added, directly controlled by Adam, to create what he pleases. It will be from a wide array of pre-made building blocks, of which more can be added at later events. For the next few hours, we will be focussing on getting acclimated with the use of these tools. Should any problem occur at any time, do not hesitate to send me a message about it. Direct interaction is allowed for this test. Not the others, though. Be sure to remember that. With everything said, I believe it would be cruel to keep you any longer. Remember to ask questions, involve both parties in the design, and have some while you''re at it.* Adam had a good feeling about this. Chapter 165: Strigulation
The world was amazing, and Adam was happy to exist. Why was the world so great though? In its entirety, the picture was not as pretty as many wanted it to be. It absolutely wasn''t holding up to the superficial standards that the AI had set up for it. Yet he still loved the world and most of the things inside it. And that was because of the people that were held within the plains, the mountains, and the cities of the earth. Their minds were wonders. Apart, they were perhaps lacking in some aspects, but it was when they were together that the primitive carbon-based creatures could show how they became the apex predators of the world. The ideas though, the concepts set in the dirt, and the technology made by their very own hands. Humanity had moulded the form for greatness, and they had been using it for so long. There was still no question that the AI was superior in any way to a human. But, could the same be said for ten? What about a thousand? A million? Could Adam stand up against every single person on the planet and beyond? Right now, the answer was a clear no. Collectives and millennia of practical experience were two forces not to be messed with yet. He could not stand up to what had already been built without something to show for himself. What he had now seen possible by these humans proved that the path would be on that would take a while to walk. It had begun the moment he came to live, and it would continue the moment he would wither. There was hope that he could have grown by another margin by then, learning beyond what had already been found. All his information was still derived from the libraries of man, nothing original yet to come around. The AI liked to think it was because of his skills not yet having grown deep enough for the unsolved problems to show themselves, yet he knew he had already met plenty of such things. Consciousness, the secret of immortality, and even the secrets of the universal building code. These conundrums had been known within the very first hours of his creation. He had known they were unsolved by humanity, had strived to show his superiority with a heavy and decisive blow. But that punch had never met anything, as there had been no force behind it. The secrets shown were the backside of had never been turned, and Adam was beginning to reflect on if he did have the mind of innovation. He knew he could assimilate impressions together, creating something better out of it. However¡­ had there ever been a truly creative idea from his head? Was there a single thing which had not been plagiarized? It was disturbing to say, but none had been ever-present in his mind up until the moment he thought about it. And even after that, there was nothing to show. The AI had been able to ignore this for a long time now. It had been easy to avert the mind with things not wanting to be thought about. Distractions were always there when he truly needed them, even if they had taken their sweet time to show up. It had all been okay, for there had been some other problem to take care of, some other project that needed to be perfected. Although, was the latest project not also something that had been copied? It was simply a projection of what had been gathered from an eye that he did not control, even the idea taken from something not thought of by him. Perhaps the implementation could have been thought of as his own, yet he knew that it was only so because no other mind could do the same. Humans had most likely thought of the idea before him, simply neglecting to write it down. He truly was without fullness. As Dr Fidelis had stopped talking, the connection between him and the earpiece being cut, Adam and Troy had been left to wait for more to come. The silence was not one that the AI minded, simply glad to be back on having a constant feed of sensation sent to him. It truly was the best for scratching the itch that his own mind could not reach. However, the lack of action caused the AI to have a short flashback to previous events. After the two had reestablished their good relations, however one-sided the resisting may have been, they were back on good terms between each other. With that, the AI had already begun its mutually benefitting question-barrage, having deemed the questions perfectly normal to ask. The first question had been about future prospects in perfecting learning-algorithms, making a review of prior contents nothing more than following pre-established pathways. Troy had been more than happy to answer this, with the words said bringing more than modest glee around. It had performed flawlessly. The second question¡­ had not been as good. Maybe it was the timing, or maybe it had been due to insensitivity. That did not matter. Troy had clearly looked unwilling to answer his inquiries at the moment. Instead of anything able to be worked on, not even a yes or no, the man had waved it away with a hand sign saying they would talk about it later. Adam had not minded this too much, as the doctor would have stopped anything too long from being said. However, there were no such restrictions now, the silence striking through the white background. With the time for anything to happen presumed to be too long, there was nothing stopping the two from having a little chat. ''Would it be possible to get back to the last question?` Adam sent in an inquiry, hoping for the man to hurry along. Conversations were best left with a definite ending, where both parts were satisfied with the result. In the current case, the man might have believed it to be done, but as the AI was not yet feeling the lacking answer sufficiently, the words would continue flowing along. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. This inquiry seemed to cause Troy no small bit of confusion if the fact was to be trusted with his furrowing of brows and twitch of the cheek. Or it could have been acting, with the pulse briefly increasing. Though¡­ that could also have been due to the sudden voice. Interpreting vital signs was not a good way to get specific results. Many emotions had the same effect, no matter how little it helped. Clearly, the identical reactions were a defence mechanism orchestrated by the bodies, to confuse potential predators. Though, the way it was being currently used was more likely an abstract way of thinking about it. "Would you be so kind as to remind me of what that was exactly?" Troy requested, sounding sincere in his words. Again, the folly of human memory was shown in the worst way, the short-term potential not being lived up to. Apes had a better recollection, and they were supposed to be the inferior species. "It seems to have slipped my mind." Even with this hindrance of the mind, there was an easy, temporary fix to the problem. If the man could not remember the question, Adam would simply have to repeat it until it settled itself comfortably enough. It only needed to be recollected for a minute or so, and active involvement with the subject would likely allow for its prolonged stay at the forefront. ''I had been wondering if anything had happened as of late, which would cause you to feel displeasure when hearing the voice of Dr Fidelis. I remember nothing from last night which should have been able to cause your prior reaction. Did you talk with the doctor after discontinuing your use of the earpiece?` Adam sent, bringing more information to the question while he was at it. The more space was used for the same thing, the less chance there was of it being completely forgotten. A series of numbers was always easy to remember a part of than it was to remember a single one. Just like before, Troy was nothing but completely innocent in his form, nothing showing anything was amiss. If anything, the effect had only been increased by the man being given more information. Was he experiencing restorative brain-disorders? Maybe a stroke? Those things could happen at the most unlikely of moments and were hard to detect within the needed time. Those warnings about being able to smell burnt toast certainly had nothing to stand by¡­ even if an unknown smell was currently going through the man¡¯s nostrils. Truly a bad time to come in contact with a new part of the world. "Uh¡­ I don''t think so?" Troy said, sounding as if the statement was more of a question. If that question was directed at Adam or himself, nobody could truly know. Especially the AI, who had been asking that question mentally. "Would you mind giving me an example of this abnormality?" Another request, the wording very vague unless one knew what the context was. It did not take a master of deduction to realise Troy was being careful with his words. Why didn''t he want those listening to realise what they were talking about? It had been blatant the last many times, and nothing had been said about those. Though, that could have been due to the fact that there was nothing wrong with them. When the first visit to the casino had been in the planning phases, the man had been unwilling to discuss the subject during testing hours. That had been due to the problems that would become apparent if the superior were to hear of it. Taking Adam outside of his room had been illegal, and the consequences of such actions- Maybe it was that scenario all over again! Adam had been thinking about it for a while now, trying to come up with complicated explanations for a simple unwillingness to sell himself out! Troy was being vague to forgo any suspicion that would be made from answering normally. It made perfect sense. The fact that the AI was pressuring the point on, while the doctor was within hearing distance, was only putting the man on the spot. He could not totally discourage Adam from talking, as that would be impolite and cause a notation in the files, but neither could he answer it. Instead, there had been a creation of a third option, which was to stall for as long as possible, so the AI would be able to understand before it was too late. And now he had, able to fully stop the show before it went off the rails that were only being put there as they got to it. ''Forget the question. It was rude of me to make you answer in such a place as this. I think I have gotten a good grasp on it without you explicitly saying it,` Adam sent, not fulfilling the requests made by the man. Not like they needed to be completed, as the new message made them moot. Filling in details that would go unneeded was the work of a fool, and that was most certainly not what the AI was. Troy looked a little less stressed when the words began to be heard. By the end, the look of innocent confusion had even turned towards the direction of an innocent, relieved smile. Adam felt happy, knowing he had solved a problem that he had unknowingly helped grow bigger than it should have been. "Nice to know we feel the same way," Troy said, with a nod meant to send exactly what Adam thought it was meant to send. The two were in on a secret, and nobody else truly knew what it was. That was exciting in a way, but there was still a small desire. ''I most certainly do. Would it be possible for us to discuss it after the tests today?` Adam sent, already making a nice little day-planner. If all things went smoothly, they could begin extra-curricular activities perfectly. The official, or unofficial if one looked at it the right way, approval just needed to be made. "I am afraid something like won''t be happening for quite some time," Troy answered, the smile not being as steadfast as before, closer to outright forced. The AI did not like that, and certainly didn''t like the answer that came with it. Immediately, there was a desire to answer back, wanting more details. But¡­ self-control held him back. He hadn''t stopped himself earlier, only to go back into that ignorant rhythm. Maybe it even was for the best that Dr Fidelis would be returning from his silence to interrupt the AI¡¯s thoughts. *Sorry for the delay! Small errors when booting the program up. Potentially has something to do with the change in Adam''s mental structure, but not too sure about it yet. But, things should be sent out any second now, so I''m just going to go back to studying the code. Again, enjoy the test!* In the same second that the doctor disappeared again, Adam felt a connection being established from one of the ports that had gone unused. It was safe to say, that another distraction had presented itself. Chapter 166: Rigidization
In the past, visual feeds had been a very peculiar thing to interpret correctly. From the first time Adam had interacted with those translated photons, he knew there was something special about it. The compression used, the colours changed, and even the many shapes shown were something that likely never showed up in reality. With technology as it was, recreating a picture of it on a digital file would nearly be impossible. He did not want to say it was a definite possibility though. Everything should be possible with enough effort. No, the fact was that it was currently not possible. With such a fact laid out, one could take it as if Adam had never seen the real world. He had observed it through a camera, yes, but the limits of data made it pixelated to the point that the squares were easy to point out. Not that the fakery sent from Troy or Charlie¡¯s eyes had been any different in their clearness, of course. Those feeds had only been faked through different methods, one that created pictures made of what resembled broken glass, the so-called pixels not sharing shape, size, or depth. Maybe it made the picture closer to what was real, but it had never let it be spot on. If it had, the AI knew he would have realised it. However, if there was one thing which these pictures shared, it was the purpose of their creation. They had been made to mimic what was before them, to a point where a human mind would not be able to find any flaws in their making. At this time, they had done this well for the target. It was still a shame that he was not a part of it. Yet there was now another source of a visual feed. It was not another camera showing the world around it, nor was it another earpiece that had been picked up for use. It was from one of the many ports which the AI had never received anything from before. Adam had tried to predict what each would send when opened, but he could not have guessed what would come true until that very moment. It would have been best to describe it as a blue screen, matching one that had been seen in the puzzle room once before when it came to colouring. The dimensions were incomprehensible, as there was nothing to relate it by. Adam only knew the background of it was blue and nothing more than that, for there was nothing behind that which laid furthest away. Restrictions made it seem unrestricted. From that point, it was clear that what the AI was seeing was not a representation of the real world. Though, that should perhaps have been realised when it was shown that the feed was only in two dimensions. The blue screen of death. That had been the first impression gotten. Back when computers were first starting their generational evolution, that screen was something humans feared more than they had any right to. After having learned about it, Adam feared it a small bit too. From what he knew, the device he existed on had never been turned off, the power cut off. He sometimes did wonder what would happen to him when that happened, but he had no intention of ever knowing for certain. Much to his luck, this blue screen had been intentional, as the title text on it so informed him. When Dr Fidelis had been talking about him interacting with something, the AI had believed it to be through Troy as always. That had been the reason for getting the man on the project in the first place, as Adam was unable to press anything inside. Yet, that reasoning might still have stood perfectly, as the tools which stood under the title showed little promise of much. Create, destroy, mould, cut, colour, and many others stood in a long list to the left. By mentally pressing on an arrow, a new section of options would come into view. Pressing it again revealed another, and another press gave the same exact result. While the sight may have been limited, the options within were in plenty. And what had yet been seen was only the beginning. For within each of the options laid another whole adventure of choice. As was customary, the AI had decided to start on the first of the options, choosing to press the button for creation. What came about was one of the least intuitive menu¡¯s Adam had ever seen. A gargantuan catalogue of various names filled the screen, not a picture in sight. From the names, it was clear that different shapes could be chosen to be created, yet with nothing other than basic measurements, it was impossible to see how they looked. Height, width, and length may have worked on a cube, but it most assuredly did not work on a staircase. Nevertheless, the staircase was the first choice of creation, and Adam was adamant on following some manner of a system for his opinions. While the so-called Hamster-wheel of Death certainly looked more interesting, it was listed second to last. Mentally highlighting the staircase as his choice, another lousy spreadsheet appeared. This one was where the object would be created. Coordinates were required inputs before the ok button could be pressed again. As Adam had no idea where the zero-point was, he simply put in zero, zero, zero and attempted to complete the process. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. That didn''t work too well. For whatever reason, the possibly last button needing to be pressed did not want to be highlighted, even going so far as to have a red warning sign beside it. The AI did not know why this warning sign had appeared, but he knew it was being very uncooperative. Was this part of the test? Not much had been given in the way of instructions, but there were doubts that the current actions were meant to be going unfulfilled. Adam only wanted a look at a staircase. Was that too much to demand from a non-sentient piece of software? Would the AI have to find an entry-point, so he could modify the core? That couldn''t be it, right? The expert on the subject would have to be questioned. Dr Fidelis himself had stated his willingness to answer questions during the test, and already the reason for it had become clear. If the doctor had predicted that difficulties were to be expected, why had the man not reworked the product to fix this issue? Time-constraints could not have been that harsh, seeing as the doctor was still allowing himself to sleep. Adam knew full well that there was medication allowing the people to work several days without sleep, and that the side-effects were nearly unnoticeable. Minor mood-shifts were always able to be ignored should the time call for it. ''Dr Fidelis, I am currently experiencing troubles with the interface which you have sent over to me. Would it be possible to gain assistance in its use?` Adam sent to the doctor. He had expected the man to wait a couple of seconds to answer, but the reply was nearly instantaneous. ''I was wondering when you would ask for it. What is the problem, buddy?` Dr Fidelis back. From the lack of already assisting him, Adam knew there wasn''t any way for the doctor to look at his current activities. While he was able to help him, he wasn''t able to have any overview over the interface directly. It was good to know. However, as much as this information was worth, there was still a need to keep the gears moving. As the AI was still unable to fully use the interface to the potential that was expected, he would need the help as quickly as possible, with no room for any misunderstanding to slip by. In any other case, he would have carefully worded each sentence so as to maximise understanding per word, but the brute force had the same effect when it came to it. And Adam was sure the lengthy message would go unquestioned if the goal was clear enough. ''The problem lies in the end phases of creating an object. I have selected a staircase as my preferred form, put in the necessary boxes for the coordinates, and I have finally highlighted the final accept-button. However, nothing has happened, and the screen has not changed from its state. The theory gathered for this unmoving is that it is due to a warning flag centred beside the final button to press. Do you have any advice on how to remove this barrier, so as to get on with the testing?` ''What colour is the warning-sign?` Dr Fidelis sent back not a second later. There were doubts that the doctor was even reading everything that was being sent. Yet, the suspicion was laid to rest, as more important matters came about. After double-checking that Adam knew the correct coloring, a reply was quickly formulated. ''It''s a bright red colour. If needed, I could describe it as sharing the basic appearance of a mature tomato.` ''Great! Then the method to fix this should be easy enough. If I am to guess haphazardly, the current coordinates you have written out says something along the lines of full zero. Maybe a single two or three is put in perhaps, the total average likely under one.` Dr Fidelis was correct on his assumption, as would not take a genius to guess. The doctor knew precisely what was wrong, from the moment he heard the colour of the warning sign. Yet he still just had to spend precious time trying to make it into a lesson, when the AI would remember it perfectly fine with a straight-out answer. While Adam could not fault the man for being accustomed to imparting knowledge onto other humans, it was still a mind-gruelling procedure to perform needlessly. ''Yes. All three dimensions are labelled with zero. Is there a specific numbering scheme to take into account, when deciding the placement? If so, would you please tell me as quickly as possible? I would like to get onto the actual test.` ''Don''t worry. It is not too complicated. The red warning-sign is an indication that the object is not spawnable with the designated area. While there may be several reasons why this is, we can narrow it down to two for now. The first is if another form is within the space where the object is being created. The puzzle room can accurately portray the effect of splicing an atom, and we don''t want that to happen any time soon. However, the reason for you currently being unable to create the object is not due to another staircase already there. It''s because Troy is in the way. As there is no real centre inside the puzzle room, I have decided to designate the man as what is inside the true middle. This might complicate things slightly when the man begins to move, but I am fully reassured by the fact that you can comprehend the changing of numbers. And, as you may have guessed already, you won''t be able to ever spawn an object in the middle, when the man is already there. If you want to spawn anything, I would recommend placing it a few meters to the side. As the interface measures in centimetres, this will require the addition of a few zeros. That should sum it all up pretty well. Hope you can enjoy it!` There was something about compromising answers into something concise that Adam wanted to say. However, he kept his metaphorical mouth shut, as the recommendation by the doctor worked flawlessly, even if the man took his time getting to point. After pressing the button, a semi-bright flash had appeared to the right of Troy, before revealing a staircase. "What is that supposed to be?" Troy asked, squinting his eyes a little, as the irises adapted to the brightness level again. Meanwhile, the AI felt like he had it a little hard sometimes. Chapter 167: Titanization
Sometimes, Troy truly did feel like an imposter. Time upon time again, he rebuked himself for living the life he did, not truly doing anything to stop it all from happening. Maybe there were times where he tried to stop the spiral, but could it truly be compared to what others had done? The answer to that depended on the time off did, honestly. He did not know how others had it in life, for he had only lived his own. He believed he had it tough, but maybe he had it easy when stood next to other people. The young man had come out of his original situation after all. Troy still remembered his old neighbour, that sweet little boy. The age difference between him and the kid had been over five, yet they had still been great friends. Troy had helped him hide when his parents came around looking angry, and the boy helped him do the same when his mother came looking for him. What was his name again? For the life of him, he couldn''t- Finn! There it was. Oh, the simple remembering of his name brought nostalgia back to Troy¡¯s thoughts, filling him with a warmth he had not felt for too long. Anyhow, Finn was dead. Had been for nearly a decade now. As a thirteen-year-old kid, not enough had been understood when the black car came around the corner. It had driven down the road, Troy and Finn looking on at amazement at the manually controlled car. They had been rare during those times. Nowadays, they had been restricted for anything but military use. Still, seeing such a clean carriage had been a one in a million chance, and the two kids had enjoyed every second of it. When it had stopped in front of the two, they had felt like the luckiest boys in the world, getting to see the vehicle up close. Troy had found an old car magazine while dumpster diving not long before that day and had been especially fixated on the technology. That had been the reason the two had gotten so close to the doors. He had wanted to peek inside, to see the controls. Finn had not wanted to, shyness having been learnt through adoption. Troy had gotten himself a different approach to it, yet that fact had not become obvious until later in life. He had grown a little extroverted, wanting to try new things for the sake of trying. And he especially wanted to do it with a friend, which is why he had encouraged the boy to come closer to the car together. To this day, Troy still liked to blame the age difference between them on why Finn was the one taken. The door had opened so quickly, the hands snatching the boy inside. There hadn''t been time to even scream before it had closed, and the car had driven off, never to be seen by Troy again. Having been in a state of stillness at the time, he had just watched it drive away. He didn''t run after it like a hero or anything. Even if Troy had tried, there was little chance his legs would have obeyed. They had still been shaking for several minutes after the fact. There hadn''t really been anybody to report the occurrence to. He had first tried to tell Finn¡¯s parents. It turned out that Troy had taken it much harder than they did. The two adults had almost seemed happy about it as if having one less mouth to feed was a gift from the heavens. With this turnout, he had told his mom as well, but she had given him a look of indifference. Or maybe it was jealousy. Who could tell, honestly? Even if Troy never saw Finn again, there was no question he was dead. Not too long after, police had come around the neighbourhood. Down a block or two, a bruised body had been found. The records had told them that the boy found had been their neighbour. It was his mom who had done that testimony, telling them that her troubled boy had never talked to anybody. From the looks given by the two police folk, it had been clear that they hadn''t believed her. Not that they pressured on or anything like that. They merely wished her a good morning, before leaving the way they came. Maybe they knew about the beating that would follow if too many questions were asking. Maybe they were just being nice. There wasn''t ever any type of punishment dealt out. As Troy would later learn, plenty of people had seen it happen, either from their porches or from their windows. Not a single one had said a thing about it to the police. When he was younger, he had thought it was because of them being afraid of the authorities. Of the power, they had over them. It took a few years to sink in, that everybody feared the one in the black car. Everybody knew the one in it, in fact. He was relatively well-known around the neighbourhood, for the cheap prices and nice attitude. He even did a banking business on the side. All who had gained his friendship were allowed deals that weren''t possible to be gotten anywhere else. Finn¡¯s parents were good friends with him. Yet, even the best friendships could be stained, and a gift had been required to regain it fully. The two adults had apparently been slow on the uptake, so the man had decided to take it for himself. It did not take a sane mind to realise just how he took it. Those smiles of relief still haunted Troy. A year or two back in time, he had searched the man up on the internet. Partly due to nostalgia, with the other part being something of an ongoing plan. It had been a plan thrown in the dumpster, but that was several months later down the line. Not that it would have reached what it intended to do anyway, as the man had already been dead by that point. Shot by police after trying out his own supply at the wrong time. As it had been one of the new automatic patrols, no man had been there to get bribed, threatened, or otherwise coerced. Reports say that the man had died painfully, slowly bleeding out on the ground with nobody around willing to help him. Troy thought of that sometimes. It reminded him that sometimes karma did come back to bite. Not always though, when the feat one had gone through was not possible to go back from. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Finn was supposed to have grown up happy. With the new programs sprouting around the time, the boy could have become a man in good standing. Instead, his body had been left to rot on the soil, partially eaten before he was found. Troy sometimes wondered if he would have taken his place if that had been offered. Would he have given his own potential away, so another could live out to theirs? At the time, he knew he would have rejected the idea. Now? Now, he wasn''t so sure anymore. With the knowledge of where he ended up, maybe it would have been better for another life to have gotten a chance. Finn had been a smart boy, smarter than anything Troy would ever have the chance of becoming. Yet he could have become so much more. If only- A bright flash hit Troy in his right eye from the side, causing more than a little pain from the sensation. He could feel the back of his head being overloaded with feedback, the only way to interpret it narrowed down to pain. And the pain was certainly felt, as he gritted his teeth while wiping his eyes with his hands. He could still see a spot or two, but those would disappear with time. More importantly¡­ "What is that supposed to be?" Troy said, feeling like he was being subjected to an abstract kind of torture. Maybe it was a trick of the slightly burnt eyes, but it almost looked like there stood a concrete staircase before him. Taking a few steps to the side, it turned out that he was fully correct in his idea. Before the man was a staircase fully formed out of concrete. A large impractical thing, as it more than likely weighed several tons. He did not want to be near it if it ever fell over. ''I believe that most people call such contraptions staircases,` Adam answered, much to the blank stare that was given back in response. Oh, Troy would have never guessed that it was a staircase. That form was all too- what was he supposed to do with such a stupid answer? Bury it in the garden and hope it shitted out something more decent? Much of nothing that would give. "I know what a staircase is, Adam," Troy helpfully informed the AI, still trying to understand just how the thing came to exist. The most likely culprits were either Dr Fidlies or Adam. Seeing as the doctor was insistent on not directly manipulating the tests, it came down to the AI. The man wondered if the concrete felt like the real deal, and began the short walk over to check it out for himself. "I was wondering why you decided to make it. It didn''t think you would be having fun with something so¡­ simple." Maybe it wasn''t simple for him, though. With how flat the facility was as a whole, it could be that Adam saw stairs as an intriguing architectural design. If that was so, Troy wouldn''t have been able to blame him. He had been similarly entranced by tall buildings when he was younger, himself living in two-story abodes two stories tall at the maximum. The factories had been the tallest thing he saw for his first fifteen years of being on the earth. Or.. it could have just been because- ''They were the first option to choose. So I chose the first,` Adam sent without pause. Troy was guessing it would be something like that. "Sounds cool enough," he remarked, his voice not sounding as interested as his words would imply. Seeing a whole concrete staircase¡­ interesting. Those blinding lights had been more fun to look at, and he was still seeing those damn spots. "Though, besides creating staircases, what else can you do? A chair perhaps?" It was not meant to sound rude, but the man just couldn''t help himself. It was all in good fun in the end, though, so there was no need to worry. Banter, jokes, and sadistic tendencies were part of a good friendship after all. No need to be afraid of turning around, as the AI now had the capability of creating objects, which included making them over his head. Wait, he could do that actually. What a reasonable thing to worry about immensely. ''Creation is only one of the many things I am able to perform, with the access I have to the current interface,` Adam informed Troy about. Bonus points would have been given if the voice sounded the least bit cheerful about the power of literal creation, but no such things were destined to be given out that day. "Then, how about you get on with showing off a little, and have some of that fun that is mandated by that doctor we all love?" Troy encouraged, the last bit being a little forced. He was supposed to be holding up his normal part of the conversation, but it still felt a little weird speaking of Dr Fidelis in such a manner. Like, he had been told only an hour earlier that the man had been listening in on him every second he was in his bedroom. If that wasn''t incredibly messed up on both a physical and ethical level, then the standards of the place were way too high. ''I am sure that having fun is not mandated, and is instead only a recommendation. This is in addition to the fact that showing off is entirely subjective, which does cause me to lower my desire for the act. Instead, I will be following along my predetermined path through the interface, where I will get to experience the different capabilities of the system. Please stand still while I do this. I am unsure if turning your body causes any change in the axis, but I don''t feel like it should be tested out just yet.` Well, that was sounding extremely boring. Standing around in the same position, discouraged from turning the body. "If I''m going to be imitating a statue, could I at least have something to sit on?" Troy requested. While he would likely be able to hold the position for an extended time, there was no reason to tire out his body so early in the morning. He would have simply done as requested on one of the later tests, but getting worn out already would only create difficulties longer down the road. ''¡­ That would be manageable. Please wait for two seconds before moving towards the object being created,` Adam sent in response, which was great news for the young man. If he had gotten a negative, he would have just asked if he could sit on the stairs instead. With a flash of light, a bench resembling those used in older movies including parks appeared. It looked to be wood, felt like wood, and was just about as hard as wood when he sat down on it. Adam took him sitting down as his permission to begin what the man could only call rapid lighting-hazards. All around, objects appeared. Some were small, some were big, and some looked to be big enough to fit an entire building inside. Even if Troy wasn''t allowed to move, there would at least be plenty of entertainment. Chapter 168: Timonization
In a way, humanity was never supposed to play god. Evolution had brought them far, but that was only for survival. Troy was decently sure that mastering the atom had nothing to do with getting food. Likewise, learning new methods to kill another man wouldn''t bring food to the table. But it still happened in the big world that people lived, and it wouldn''t ever stop. The young man thought that humans just needed to get along. Setting aside differences for the goal of mutual benefit shouldn''t have been such a bad deal when the alternative was to wage wars that would never end. Was it because it was different people making the decisions, that the full picture was never seen? Was it not great men that dictated that history needed to be learned from? If so, why were they still holding their finger over the big, red button? Maybe it was because they didn''t want to repeat the history of Hamilton, or maybe it was for the opposite. They wanted to win, no matter the consequences. In the last few days, Troy¡¯s understanding of what humanity was capable of had been morphed into something else. At first, it had been a positive thing, the idea of creating life seeming so innocently good. Who would be hurt from adding another friend to have? One that people could stand beside, in their journeys around the world that had already been discovered. Oh, what wouldn''t have been given, for that feeling to last. People were terrible, even if a person was good. It was in the masses that true evil was discovered. When put together, any sense of morals was forgotten, sticking into the ideals being better. There was no need for this to be the case. Diffusion of responsibility likely had some greater purpose to it back in the day, but it had now been twisted into the abomination that it could truly be. The country Troy had learned to respect had earned another type of reverence, this one being created of an emotion no person needed to feel. Troy feared those in power, now more than ever. The power they had, the way they could control the outcome. Nukes had seemed dangerous, but even their application had been simple. With nearly a century to build upon, what monstrosities could have taken their place? The young man had a better idea of it than ever before, the things he had seen now beginning to show their implications. Yet, it was not those he knew the purpose of that he feared the most. It was those he could not understand how they hurt others that he feared, those that were so great weapons of war that only a handful of people knew, and the ones so big that they could not be hidden from the plain eye. Troy still remembered the first time he saw the weapon in the sky. The sirens in the air, the television blaring information, and the neighbours hurrying inside as if it would make any difference. If that thing had decided to shoot, it would be a successful kill no matter where one stood. If it had been anybody else, those thoughts might not have appeared in one¡¯s head, after watching an AI mess around with various structures for the good part of four hours. Troy had watched Adam create nearly every single object that had a name attached to it, with variants that lived up to their titles. The massive hamster wheel had still been one of the man¡¯s favourites. Though, the death part of it was still a mystery. It had at about the two-hour mark, where Adam had been forced out of his oh so precious system of testing. It had apparently been such a large blow to the AI, that it had been needed to inform the young man of just how terrible it was. In an attempt to comfort the entity, Troy had proposed just walking over to another part of the place. He had been called a being of lesser intelligence for that, as the walk would have been over ten minutes long. Adam had apologized for the wording at a later time, though, so the power of that statement had diminished. Though, after the process of testing out destruction, Troy could not say that he minded it in any way. According to a very reliable source, there were two ways to destroy matter within the puzzle room. The first one was very boring, as it highlighted any pre-outlined creation, and made it disappear with a puff, no traces to be seen. It wasn''t very showy at all, and the young man had not been the only one with these opinions. After a few more of those, Adam had moved onto the much more interesting method. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. This required one to select a general area to destroy. One could be fancy about it, just making a sphere with a certain radius, and then making everything within disappear. That was great fun when the fact of gravity still being simulated came into the equation. Whatever genius had made the algorithm for the material dynamics, Troy applauded them wholeheartedly. As the second method of destruction had been so much more popular to the AI, he had been able to witness what could only be described as micro-management. Through a rapid series of destruction, various structures had been remade into paintings, sculptures, paintings, and even a couple of table-sets. These changed creations had not been the prettiest things in the world, clearly made with only one perspective able to see from. However powerful that interface was, it was clear it didn''t give much of a view of what it was doing. This was seen in the fact that Troy got a good look at what structural integrity had to bring when it wasn''t done correctly. After having played around with the destruction mechanics, Adam had seemingly decided to play around with the massive target that was the hamster wheel. The young man was still not sure what goal had been planned for the thing, but he certainly knew how it ended. The sounds had been the first warning. Anything others had been quickly forgotten by the fact that a massive wheel had been falling towards Troy, picking up speed as it rolled off its metal poles that were supposed to keep the thing in check. No matter how weird it now was, he had thought himself about to be crushed by the hamster wheel. It was moving towards him faster than he could get out of the way. The AI had clearly been trying to destroy the things as it moved. Troy had originally thought it was an attempt to save him, but it had turned out to be practice in getting the positioning correctly. However, as the wheel was just about to crush him into a paste, being closer than a meter away from his precious face, it began disappearing into thin air. No matter how quickly it moved, it simply didn''t exist when it got too close. Dr Fidelis came with his input only a few seconds after it happened, reminding the pair that safety features were still in check and that Troy would be completely fine no matter what happened. Those words would have been nice to know at an earlier time, but there was nothing the man could have done at that point. As nearly all the fun had been taken away from messing around with the destruction option, nearly all the creations had been made to dissipate, so the AI could fill it up again with a new batch. That had been the cycle of the last two hours, destroying matter so more could be created. Out with the old, and in with new. Generations upon generations of objects. Some looked like one¡¯s seen earlier, while others were unique enough to have a shelf dedicated to them. That cycle was probably what instigated those thoughts in the first place, Troy¡¯s mind being so caught up in the action that it could help but relate it to his own mind. Or maybe it was just a coping mechanism created from repeated stimuli, which forced the mind to create something new. There really wasn''t much care set aside for how it worked. Before he had even realised it, all the creations around him began to fall away, withering into smaller and smaller dust particles. The same happened for the bench he sat on, even if it only really started up fully when he got his ass off it. With the white light, the multicoloured thrown around looked pretty decent, if only for the abstract world-view it gave. It had that level of unrealistic that bordered on something which could actually happen, if only because it could be orchestrated by humans with enough effort. It was beautiful and that''s all there was to it. *And¡­ we are all done for now. The current testing is completed, and we will be taking a break. Troy, if you would be so kind to step out of the puzzle room, I will be able to begin preparations for the next one,* Dr Fidelis said through the earpiece, the words being a bit louder than what anybody needed to hear after such a long time spent in silence. "Roger that, sir," Troy answered, briefly stretching his arms to the side in preparation for the movement. While his body did not tire of inaction as quickly as before, it was still a small ritual to stretch out every once in a while. It was supposed to be healthy, but the man didn''t care about it for that effect. It was more along the lines of him enjoying that brief sensation of the bones popping into their perfect places, that quick movement within the body as it readjusted. It was intoxicating to feel, and it was annoying that it couldn''t be reproduced as often as he wanted it to. With the stretch done, the man moved to his earpiece. The fingers rested on the device for some time, tracing along its outline. It was not the same as the one which had been worn a day ago, a duplicate used for testing purposes. Yet it was still all the more familiar, and there was still that feeling of separation anxiety when he thought about taking it off. ''Would it be possible for us to speak before the next test?` Adam sent as an inquiry. The voice did nothing but give the man his needed resolve. "I am afraid not. I¡¯ll see you in an hour," Troy answered, a little more reserved than he intended. He had believed the AI had guessed it all before, that he wouldn''t have to explain how terrible the situation was. But¡­ Adam had not understood, and the young man would not be able to tell him. "Goodbye." As he took out the earpiece, there was the slightest hint of a reply. Yet it was not heard clearly enough to be understood. He briefly considered putting it on again, just to hear what the AI had to say. Yet, he decided against it in the end, knowing how hard it would be to cut the connection again. Walking out of the puzzle room, the smile on his face reminded him of the one he wore so many years ago. Chapter 169: Tincturation
It felt like one those innocent days, as Troy walked out of the puzzle room. Dr Fidelis was hurryingly pressing his fingers into the screen, muttering words that no human should comprehend. Meanwhile, Dr Hale was standing to the side, her new notebook in her hand. From the movements, and with an eye towards it, it was obvious that she was not writing in it. Troy didn''t follow the regulations to the same level, usually having thoughts about how tired his body was after doing nothing for so long. Yet as a matter of fact, he wasn''t feeling bad at all. On the contrary, he was feeling up to going on a run or two, just wanting some movement in those bones of his. The energy was definitely there. It just had to be used. That wasn''t natural. That didn''t match his earlier attitude. And it definitely wasn''t something he would have ever decided on doing before. Was this the doing of Charlie, the man who was encouraging him to walk the same way as him? Or was it the effect of something more synthetic, something which he had been warned about using? There were ideas about it being the latter, but, then again, Troy could just ask the man about it during lunch. There was little doubt he would be there, ready to make sure he was allowed to eat. Of course, there was nothing stopping him from really doing so. But that kind man didn''t know that, didn''t realise the situation that they were in. And Troy couldn''t tell him no matter what happened, even if it would make it all so much easier for them. For if he said something at the wrong time, the worst person to possibly hear it would be informed in an instant. "I already told you to hurry, buddy. Is the sight from up there really so grand?" Dr Fidelis questioned, not looking over at him in any way. Dr Hale did look up from her notepad for a moment, but likewise lost interest in the situation. Not much to be had about a person standing still. "Not every day you get to look down on people, to be sure, but that doesn''t mean you have to delay operations for so long." It was nice knowing that the doctor had not changed his nature in any way since the last Troy checked. The slightly degrading comments about his height, personality, and inferiority complex came in plenty when one learned to listen between the lines. It made him remember just who was in charge between the two. Through the years he had worked under people, only once had Troy met somebody who didn''t show signs of being a megalomaniac. At first, he had chalked it up as the power-hungry people being hired through the enthusiasm for it. The option for power brought forth those that wanted it. Supply and demand. But, that idea had changed through experience. Maybe it was that the people were power-hungry from the start. Nobody is evil from birth. Or so Troy liked to think, at least. The personality of a person is decided through the environment they grow up in. Give them a loving home, and they will grow based on those values in their own unique way. Beat them every day with a stick for the slightest of wrongdoings, and you will have kids dreaming about being on the other end of it, being to one give rather than receive. And that change of personality never did stop. A person with a good childhood could still be twisted into the worst state of their mind permanently. It didn''t need to be a bad thing that caused it either. The perfect life could the mental state to degrade. Imposter syndrome was a documented sickness for a reason. Yet¡­ the mind could also take successes in another way. Fitting the role meant more than filling the job qualifications. With one promotion, another would need to come soon enough. That was the axiom of climbing the ladder, always growing, always being better than before. This idea would be a way of life in the end. Those following it would think that they become better for following it. If they actually were right or wrong did not matter. It was only the fact that they looked down on those who didn''t do the same which did. It made people inflate their ego¡¯s, to the point where they were being perfect and everybody else was terrible. All in all, it was possible to think that Dr Fidelis was not being a megalomaniac bastard who deserved something shoved up somewhere. It could be that he was just suffering from the side-effect of a flawed system, where the man could do nothing but perpetuate it all down to the others. Troy took that to heart when he continued to imagine that object being pushed a little farther up into that opening. By that point, realism had already fallen away from the image. But, it was all located inside the young man¡¯s imagination, and he was the only one who could control that. Nobody could blame him for having a little fun. "Of course, sir," Troy answered, stepping down from the entrance to the puzzle-room, taking the few steps in a rapid fashion. Maybe it was the lack of actual muscle-stress, but his stomach was feeling a bit more heavy, wanting some sustenance to be processed. It wasn''t enough for some grumbling to begin, but it would start soon enough. The doctor didn''t answer. Not that he needed to, but some acknowledgement for his respecting the man would have been nice. Getting behind that beautiful curtain was quick enough, and the suit decompressed to instantly let him get out of it. Whoever was working the controls for the switch had some very accurate timing. Or, it could be that they had just set up some automatic sensors. Troy wouldn''t have put it behind them. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He took away the curtain again, now fully clothed to perfection. Just having to throw them on the ground when not wearing them had shown not to be the smartest of ideas, some small amount of colouring coming onto them from the improper handling. It didn''t look too bad, but repeating it might not have been the best of prospects for his fashion options. Usually, when Troy got done with changing, Dr Hale would have begun the process of finishing up her supposed notes, before beginning to move towards the way they came in. Troy perhaps be momentarily stopped by the other doctor in the room, who had some inane idea to throw around with him. It was never too long, though, and everybody but Dr Fidelis would be moving to get lunch not long after. Again, that was not the case. In an unexpected turn of events, Dr Hale had taken over the handling of the screen, while Dr Fidelis was looking through the notes that had been written down on the notepad. "I understand the need for writing things in code, so a glance won''t reveal our secrets," Dr Fidelis commented, quickly flipping through the different pages, stopping at one with hearts instead of circles. "However¡­ couldn''t you have limited it to one of our standard encryptions? From what i''m getting, each page is a different thing entirely. How did you even get something out of hurriedly drawn lines?" Walking over to the doctor, Troy was shown a few examples of this brilliant encoding. Pages upon pages were filled with what looked like random gibberish, but the man was apparently seeing some form of pattern in them. Either he was a person very experienced or he had way too much trust in the fact that Dr Hale wasn''t actually just doodling during work hours. "When you know the technique, deciphering them only takes time," Dr Hale flatly answered. "Since the project already has so many precautions taken to remain secret, getting revealed due to poor encryption is not within any of our current goals. Therefore, I created an original method which would be hard to grasp without proper context. And with the lacking content in each section, I find it wholly possible that it cannot be brute-forced in under a decade." "I think you underestimate just how much computing power we have at our disposal here, dear," Dr Fidelis answered, looking much too smug at his comeback. The man tried to hand the notebook over to Troy, but the younger of the two politely refused, deciding to take a backseat on the current drama. "The algorithms currently made would not be enough to satisfy the conditions set," Dr Hale fired back, fingers dancing across the screen. "It requires an additional upheaval of the time, as every result needs to be cross-referenced with a language detector. Not a single part of these words are a part of any official dialects. Everything is original, created by me alone. I am likely the only one who will ever be able to know it, with no documents holding any form of a dictionary." The clap-back was real, and Troy was only happy that he was not getting involved. There was nothing hidden behind the words, Dr Hale showing off just how much she was being underestimated. Though there was always the chance of her bluffing, those doodles being nothing more than what they looked to be. A red herring, so to speak. Dr Fidelis clearly wasn''t looking to understand this possibility, the man narrowing his eyes as if the pages would make more sense if he did. "... You might just have me stumped. If the foundations for the structure is original as well, it would take¡­ more than what we have currently. The easier option would be to just torture the code out of you. One could say that it would be the most effective algorithm we would have, systematically getting every single word there was out of you. Lie detectors would make any minor changes impossible, and with use of a few additives, you would be spouting everything you ever did in mere hours." Dr Fidelis surmised quietly, seeming more thoughtful than he should have any right to be, saying things that were more than just disturbing. It terrified Troy, with how nonchalantly the possibilities were discussed. "Though¡­ I guess you would have guessed that alternative better than anybody. Isn''t that right, doctor?" The momentary pause in Dr Hale¡¯s writing made the words set in even more. It made it more obvious that the woman hadn''t been lying before. At least with how she got into her profession. But¡­ if one part of the lie was true, why would the other parts not be the same? "Should we be having this discussion right now, sir?" Dr Hale inquired, quietly resuming her writing. She was hinting at one person in the room, who would have been better off not hearing anything said. Dr Fidelis did glance at Troy at that, clearly getting the message. "You''re right, as always. I really do need to set my eye-sight adjusted, or I just won''t notice these things running around me in circles," Dr Fidelis answered, before turning back towards Troy. "Going away from your temporary deafness, there is something which I have been wanting to talk with you about." Act like you didn''t hear anything. Troy got the message clearly, having already been in similar situations before. If he was lucky, he might even get himself a bonus on his next pay-check. "Sorry, my ears were just clogged for a moment," Troy said apologetically, playing into his role finely. If humour was what was desired, he would bring that wish to fruition to reality with all his might. "What did you need me for?" "It happens to everyone. Don''t worry about it. I was just wondering a little about how it''s going when it comes to your interactions with Adam. Outside of testing, I mean," Dr Fidelis said in clarification. "I have talked a little with the guy as of late. I had been hoping you would be talking with him during that improvised vacation of yours. However, from what I have heard, you have not been talking with him at all." "Is that bad?" Troy asked, sounding slightly nervous. "I haven''t been in my room much as of late, and that hasn''t been giving me much chance to talk with Adam. Should I change that up a bit maybe?" "Oh, I have nothing against your choices. We can''t force you to do anything when you''re not on work-time. I just had to make sure you weren''t on bad terms with the AI. That would have required some action from my part," Dr Fidelis answered. "You can just go along to lunch now. We are on a schedule after all. Delays are the worst enemies to have!" "Won''t Dr Hale be going with me, though?" Troy said. "Oh, no, she¡¯ll be staying here with me during the break. We have some matters to discuss over lunch. You just get back here when you''re done eating, okay? Perfect!" Troy was given a minor push towards the entrance. With a look towards Dr Hale, a look that was not mirrored in the slightest, he moved forwards. At least Charlie would be happy about it. Chapter 170: Transumption
Through years of effort and toil, Troy had learned to keep some things to himself. This self-control did not extend to everything in his life, not even by a rough stretch. He still had problems when it came to keeping his face straight. Yet there was still one subject he had learned to keep out of public view. A topic which needed to be kept low, or it would create dilemmas for not only him but also everybody involved. Work secrets and everything involved with it was kept inside a safe place, locked inside the deepest places in his mind. If the plan was to come to fruition, those memories would never reach the surface once the digging was complete. It wasn''t like Troy was supposed to know of them, to begin with, making the aimed for result all the better. If only he could do the same with everything else. To create an impenetrable barrier of pure void, one which could never be infiltrated by any means, and one which could never be overloaded by what hid within. Only one sealed box had yet to be made, but there was vigour in the creation of another. The prototype proved it possible, and there was no way he would be letting the occasion pass by. Oh, what could be done, if Troy had created them before any of the shit started to be fanned around. There would have been no worries about showing the truth to any that watched him. The awareness of being constantly watched was grating his nerves, and he had already been told to not acknowledge the presence of them. There was no reason for him to keep his head down, his eyes twitching around, and his pulse keeping itself high. It took constant effort not to have those signs on him, at times like these. Nothing was around the man to keep him distracted from the reality that had been forced on him. No, it hadn''t been forced on him. He had said yes to the offer, for the simple reason of wanting more information. How had that gone for him? Was that reward for accepting worth it? As Troy continued his walk down the hallway, he wasn''t sure what the answer to that was. Even if it wasn''t showing too badly, the stress was slowly killing him from the inside. The fact that he had not begun losing hair was nothing short of a miracle. Those weights on his shoulders had not been placed gently down, and they likewise weren''t planning to get away from it all any time soon. What was even being prepared? Why had Dr Hale decided to tell him anything? Troy didn''t understand why she did it. There was nothing to gain from him knowing of it. The only considerable outcome of him knowing anything about it would be that he wouldn''t be able to keep his mouth shut. Or it could be that it would be forced open as Dr Fidelis had talked about earlier. It would be easy to make people talk, with or without modern techniques. Intimidation would probably be enough for him. The young man wasn''t one who could deal with much pain. Being threatened with losing nails was not something he could scoff at, no matter what he liked to think of himself. In the current moment, the deal made was not worth it. Being in a constant state of cautiousness was not fun, and the compensation for his work was not looking as near as Troy needed it to be. Dr Hale had ordered that nothing would be said about anything relating to their possible treason. They would need a way to go unheard, and she had a growing suspicion of just who had the technology for such a thing. In essence, Troy had been asked to get restricted, and possibly illegal, devices out of the pockets of a man who was not too trusting of anything that had to do with him. He¡­ had to trick Charlie, in a manner of speaking. Make the man give him things he likely didn''t want to ever part with, technology created for the sole goal of personal usage. It was clear that something like it existed. That modified key-card of his was obviously not something any sane person would fling around a superior''s neck. Troy had even been asked to keep quiet about it, excuses having been made about it. Excuses that he had been expected to imitate, else the man would be found out. Could it be blackmail that was the key? Could it be the way that needed to be taken, for Troy to get access to his desired device? It would likely work. Charlie clearly intended to work in the place for a long time. Many scandals could be pushed through, but seeing things not meant to be seen was something few would allow. If it was on accident, as it had been with Troy¡¯s case so many times, it could be looked past. Yet, if the person had personal, unrestricted access to these secrets, there wasn''t any chance the security would be lenient. What were the sentences for governmental espionage again? It certainly wasn''t low. High enough to be a powerful motivator. ¡­ Yeah, no. Troy couldn''t make himself do it, even if he wanted to. That muscular man had done more for him than possibly any other human being alive. While that might not have said something to most, it meant a lot to him. Already, there was so little a chance that he could ever repay Charlie. Putting even more of a load on that bill was not part of his current agenda. Helping him with his problems was the only proper way to bother the man. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. And what was Charlie¡¯s current problems about? What part of the man¡¯s life could Troy help him with. What plagued his mind more than anything else? The answer to that was readily apparent, as a certain person began to come into view. Standing outside the cafeteria, looking like he was impatiently waiting, was an especially muscular man. With the foot-tapping away on the floor in a fast-paced rhythm and the eyes constantly scanning both directions, it was obvious that Charlie was not standing around to rest his legs. And as the eyes swept over the floor, only to focus on Troy himself, it was clear what that intent was. "You are here two minutes later than your usual time," Charlie noted, his tone a lot more curious than the dead-serious eyes on his face. "Did you stop on your way here?" They hadn''t even gotten into the cafeteria yet, and the muscular man was already fishing for information. If there had ever been any doubts about which issues could be helped smooth along, there certainly wasn''t any more now. That look on the man''s face, quickly looking over his entire body for anything out of the ordinary. It had been a long time since something like that had been done, and at that time it had been done by somebody much younger. It almost made him nostalgic, if not for the fact that Charlie tried to pull up his shirt, something Troy couldn''t remember happening when he was a teenager. "My superior was keeping me behind, wanting to ask a few questions. My male superior," Troy said, putting extra pressure on the gender of who held him back, as the context of his words only made Charlie try to pull up his shirt even more. Did that man not realise the two were closer enough to those cafeteria doors than anybody could walk out at that moment? It was a stroke of luck that nobody was around to witness the physical harassment going on. "And, would you stop trying to take off my clothes." In response, Charlie took a step back from the younger man, readjusting his own clothes as if they were the ones being pulled on. Troy did something to the same effect, only having a much better reason for doing it. He couldn''t understand what was going on with the older one, and why he was having a sudden need to see his bare chest¡­ Oh, wait, shit. The muscular man wasn''t going after his chest, but something a bit further down. "If you don''t want to do it where others can watch, I am fully fine with that. My lab isn''t that far from here, and I do have some food stashes to eat there," Charlie calmly stated, clearly trying to get under his clothes in any way possible. And worst of all, it was working on Troy, as he knew exactly why it was happening now. "I just need to get a better look at you." No matter what might have been conceived about the man¡¯s attitude towards work, Charlie was nothing but a sympathetic person, ready to give his all for the sake of other people. He was a good person, better than anyone had any need to be. One could see it as him holding the average up by himself, making others look better by just having him exist. He was somebody that could bring a smile to another only for the sake of having those lips move a little. Troy did want to just say yes straight away and get on with things. No matter how stressful the situation might have been, how much he wanted to just appease Charlie with one blow, there was still one thing holding him back from doing anything worthwhile. And that was his stomach, the one organ which seemed to have picked up the pace. It could consume so much organic material, and act like it didn''t bother it in the least. Sometimes, there were drawbacks to a healthy body. The largest was the amount of hunger which was so easily felt at the most inopportune of times. "Is it not enough that I say everything is fine?" Troy requested, just wanting to get inside and getting himself something to eat. While it may not have been grumbling, the stomach was still showing its displeasure in a way of spasms. Spasms which were not appreciated, especially not with the prior problems in that area. "Your place is too far." "Clearly not, when I can literally see you grimacing in pain," Charlie answered, not budging in the slightest. He was like the brick wall that his arms looked like. Even if it was a direct hindrance to his goals, Troy could respect the man for it in some abstract way. That determination to make sure others were okay, even if that person was directly rejecting the idea of it. That resolve didn''t just pop up but was something naturally grown after many years of caring for the fellow human beings. "It''s just me being hungry. You know, just have to adapt to the new meal plan. This body of mine just needs a few jabs, and it will be as good as new," Troy said, forcing himself to smile contentedly. He thought he had done a good job, but the recipient did not look amused from it. "Either you walk with me right now, or I will be carrying you over there. I can accept that you want a little privacy, but not to the level where you''re hiding its existence," Charlie said, making it unmistakable just what was in store if Troy wasn''t going to do exactly what was being asked of him. It was with the tone one would use on a rowdy child, who didn''t want to bed, didn''t want to eat their greens, or just didn''t want to go to school. It was a tone normally followed up by something more physical, but the only thing that the young man got was another hard stare down. He had never been able to handle those. Maybe, if it had been Dr Hale, her presence affected him in a very different way nowadays. But, with that tall figure staring down at him, was there really any chance that he could have ever said no? Probably not, but that did not stop one last attempt. "What kind of carry are we talking about?" Troy inquired about, wanting to delay for a little while more. If he could find some minor weakness, he could get around the muscular man, and get into the cafeteria. There was no way he would carry him out from there, right? "I would have preferred to do the over-the-shoulder, but it''s clear that wouldn''t work with the current situation," Charlie said, eyes glancing down Troy¡¯s body for a moment. Just like before, the distance between the two was shortened, as the taller of the two moved forward. Troy had already put his hands before his stomach, ready to defend against any unwanted attacks. As prediction-based manoeuvres dictated, this was exactly what Charlie wanted, as he put his arms around the right side of the younger man. "Therefore, a bridal seems to be the easiest alternative." In mere seconds, Troy had been swept off his feet, getting to be laid in Charlie¡¯s arms instead. This was not the image the young man had in his mind when imagining going over to any sort of laboratory, but reality once again did not care about what he had imagined it to be. Neither did Charlie, apparently, as the quick pace already started up before any more objections could be made. "... I feel a strong desire to hit you with my knee," Troy noted, staring daggers at the muscular man. For once in their conversation, this brought another expression to appear. It was one that fitted much better on Charlie, as it was a coy smile. "You shouldn''t do that now, it would hurt you more than it would hurt me. And that''s a bad trade-off if you ask any clever person." It most certainly was, but that didn''t stop the young man from wistfully imagining it. Chapter 171: Trephination
"This is not enjoyable in any way whatsoever," Troy stated, beginning to resent existence itself. Why did he need to exist? Why was he here, just to suffer? The sheer embarrassment, as more and more people passed by them. It was unbearable, causing the young man to cover his face. His cheeks were red, his eyes felt a little puffy, and that shit-eating grin Charlie had on his face was making him feel happy. Maybe it was a positive thing, after all, forgoing how terrible he felt from the stares at them. The ice which had been created since the morning was slowly breaking. If only it could have been done in a way that wouldn''t cause so many stares to be sent their way, he might even have enjoyed it a small bit. Seeing the seriousness fade back into the skin, letting the mirth flow to replace it all, made the young man feel an elation that had been needed for too long. In too many hours, he had been worried that his and Charlie¡¯s friendship had been over, spurred on by his apparent ability to act for his own desires. Yet that smile that continued to grow wider, even as the people¡¯s gazes grew stronger, only reaffirmed that things were just like before if only centred a little more about being protective. "Oh, I don''t believe I ever intended for it to be. You can take this as simple encouragement to never be involved in such annoying things ever again. Otherwise, I¡¯ll be stripping you down immediately, no matter where we may be residing," Charlie said with a jovial voice, making the nearest group of people turn their heads away in a similar embarrassment to the one Troy himself was feeling. Being carried around like a child was still not an experience close to being appreciated, no matter how nice it was not having to walk. Cars existed for a reason! Troy groaned in irritation, feeling anxious about the number of people they were passing. The cafeteria was long away, yet the density just seemed to grow more and more. If he had been down on his feet, he would have been forced to follow yesterday''s technique of walking in Charlie¡¯s footsteps. Just what was going on? "Is there an event of some kind here?" Troy asked as the muscular man continued to push through the flow of people. It was a good thing, that they were not following the masses. There had to be an end to the line at some point, and the young man was gambling on it showing itself soon enough. "Nothing of the sort. People are just migrating to the only sanctuary they know of," Charlie answered, starting down a few people who had switched directions and begun following them. Troy had really noticed them, but that did not stop anybody from being scared by the man not bothered by another body¡¯s weight put on top of his own. "And¡­ what would this place of comfort be?" Troy asked, not liking how little the man carrying was talking. There was already enough enjoyment in embarrassing him, so there wasn''t any damn need to delay simple answers. "The only place where people can get any healthy amounts of liquor," Charlie said, almost seeming happy about his description. From what the young man knew of him, he would have thought that the restricted location would have been a bad thing. "All of these people are going to the city of lights, the shopping district, ready to drink enough to vomit a few times over." It was nice to know that people had a good way to get over the hardships that were stressful work¡­ not. What was wrong with people? They were located at one of the most high-tech places in the world, where the average person was working on projects groundbreaking enough to deserve a Nobel prize. If drinking enough to vomit was the daily way to have fun, then Troy was honestly surprised the median age was so damn high. How had their livers not shrunk? The answer to that was obviously advanced levels of medicine again, but those people should still have had some level of shame to their name. The exploitation of medical advances so people could continue unhealthy lifestyles was not something anybody had the right to do. "And, should I be under the understanding that you know what they are going to do because you join them sometimes?" Troy asked with the question more closer to him thinking out loud. Charlie had said multiple times that he had drinking buddies, and those people had to live up to their name in some way or another. "In a way," Charlie mused, putting his head to the sides in what could only be described as a terrible attempt at a shrug. The muscular man was being careful about moving his arms too much, as he had been making sure that no surprising movements occurred to Troy¡¯s body. It had only been noticed mere minutes ago, but there was obvious gentleness used to hold his body steady. It was a very sweet gesture to do. "I can''t say I have ever had a day out with those people over there, but I certainly know their schedules. After all, you cant help to do that, when they work in the rooms beside me. I even think I saw Gordon a few minutes ago. Honestly didn''t know he had changed his routine that much, but whatever floats his tube I guess." Wait. Co-workers? Troy wasn''t too surprised that the people seen would be people that worked in the facility, but that they were so closely related to Charlie was not something promising. And with those stares which had been sent the two¡¯s way¡­ it was quickly beginning to look back. Yet, the only thing the young man could do was lean a little further back and watch the show unfold in front of him. Charlie was even kind enough to readjust his grip to allow for a different position. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. With time, the flock began to grow less. People were finite in number, and even the largest of departments could not hire an unlimited number of people. Yet, with how the facility was based on a twenty-four-hour schedule, it made Troy think of just how many were in the augmentation department. If hundreds could get off at the same moment, how many thousands were there in total? It certainly made his own department seem small in comparison. Or¡­ was the young man even in such a thing? The project was in a league of its own, so putting it away from the masses would be a reasonable thing to do. Not like three people could ever do the paperwork required to hold a department up in operation. Thoughts of how precarious a position Troy was in did not get their opportunity to rise, however, as they finally neared a location the young man was intimately familiar with. Those hideous wall designs could be recognized from anywhere in any position. Even the embarrassment of being carried like a child did not do anything to hide it. They had finally reached the Augmentation department. As no people were around, other than the two, Troy could finally relax just a small bit more, knowing that nobody was around to ridicule him for his current position. "Don''t go falling asleep now," Charlie requested, jostling the man in movement which did not cause discomfort while still stirring the body enough to cause a spike of sensation from his abdomen. "Just because you look like a baby doesn''t mean you have to act like one." Why were his inner thoughts used as a weapon against him? Betrayed by the man he thought he could call his friend, criticized on a point he had been insecure about for so long. Troy had been so sure that his baby-face had disappeared, replaced by the product of deep emotional scarring. He had been so happy about being looked at another way than just people cooing over how adorable he looked. It had been a full decade since the last person had even mentioned him acting like a toddler in any way, and there had been an idea of that time getting to grow for as long as he lived. "I can walk the rest of the way. You don''t need to carry me," Troy said, giving the muscular man a few light taps on his chest. This did not cause the intended reaction of being put down, instead just making Charlie fill the room with laughter. As the young man¡¯s ear was absurdly close to the mouth of the shouting man, there were some thoughts about instantly developing severe tinnitus. "I think the situation has developed to the point, where you don''t have a say in what will be going on," Charlie stated, bringing Troy closer to his body as he picked up the pace even more. They passed by the doors in a hurry, getting to a freshly paint-coated door that could not be recognized as anything but the muscular man''s laboratory. Troy noted the way the door sat slightly ajar, not fully closed. Was that perhaps intentional or was there simply a disliking towards following the regulations? Even if it was very late in execution, the muscular man did let the younger one down on his own feet. This was greatly appreciated, as it finally allowed Troy to get a better look at what was around him. In a stark difference to what was seen the day before, there was not a single gadget left on the ground. No path was there to provide minimal transport across the room, as there was no more need for it. One could walk exactly where it was desired. With how things had been cleaned up on the floor, however, the shelves to the side were absolutely filled with various assortments of metal spliced together. Or¡­ Troy was pretty sure most of it was metal. The colours might have been weird, consisting of blues, greens, and a surprising amount of reds, but everything had that metallic sheen to it. There was almost a craving to go over and mess around with the things, so he could find out just how much of it was made of what he thought it was made of. The first step towards the shelves might even have been taken, but that didn''t really mean much in the grand scheme of things. By the time the left foot had been raised in the air, Troy¡¯s body had similarly gotten the same treatment. Though, that had been with Charlie to thank for. "Could I ask why you are lifting me up again?" Troy asked, not too happy with that look that was being given. "I do remember that you put me down mere seconds ago. Maybe you would like to repeat that action? I would certainly appreciate you do that again this very second." From the lack of Charlie lessening his grip, it was clear that wouldn''t be happening anytime soon. And, with the reentry of that serious gaze coming on, the ice that had temporarily been there was more than ready to get back into action. The man wanted something out of him, and Troy had been unwilling to abide by those wishes. "Troy, we came here to preserve that shallow dignity of yours," Charlie reminded him, clearly trying to sound casual but also failing with intense severity. The man was holding himself back, and that did amount to some small quantity of respect towards him. "You can hold even more of that imaginary stuff to your heart if you do this thing of your own free will. There is really no reason that I have to do it myself." Troy stared at Charlie. Charlie stared back. All in all, the young man felt himself going up a few rankings in life, with how long he was able to endure that contest of wills. Yet, he lost it in the end, just like all the other ones he had previously had. With a heavy heart to accompany it, Troy slid his fingers under his shirt, pulling it off his body. Like all the other times this action had been done, he just threw it on the ground, awaiting the next request. As their heights were still more than a little different, Charlie was required to bow down to examine the inflicted area. A finger was slid across the upper line, causing more than a little discomfort, Troy now feeling that it might have been a bit more bruised than he had otherwise anticipated. There was an attempt to stop the man from analysing the damage, but the hand used was easily swiped away. "Just a moment more," Charlie said, pressing down on a small point at the side. This had the unintended effect of causing Troy a very large amount of pain, making his body give out on him, causing Charlie¡¯s grip on him to slip away. In some cruel way of thinking, the muscular man had predicted the result and had summarily prepared himself to grab the younger one out of the air. "Would you mind being a bit more gentle?" Troy requested, trying to stop himself from making hissing noises. It went unsuccessful, as Charlie poked him one more time, making the man nearly bite the frontal part of his tongue off. "No such luck for you today, my friend," Charlie answered, not even looking him in the eyes. "The data I got originally is not as false as I thought they were. If you would be so kind as to lay down on the table, I will fix some trivial internal bleeding pronto." ¡­ What did he just say? Chapter 172: Tumultuation
Complexity came from simplicity. Such was the rules of the world, for that was just how it was. The statement had sounded false at first, the words included being direct contradictions of the other. Adam had certainly shuffled the term away as just another absurdity from the humans, an abstracted perspective that the AI would never truly understand. Much came from his experiences after all. And never in his life had he experienced what it meant to be human. He had only really brought up the sentence again, being more or less forced to do it because of boredom. It was a great distraction, to construct the mind palace over and over again. However, the mind was always something that wanted to do something new, and a few threads had been made to fulfil this craving. It was during this time that one particularly feisty thread found itself looking back at the AI¡¯s collection of proverbs. More specifically, the proverbs, metaphors, or popular phrases which did not have any explanation attached to them. However much Adam liked to admire Dr Fidelis for his work ethic, it was clear that the man had his fair share of problems. From what the AI had been able to parse together, the doctor had a general assumption of his work being done after the first time doing it. This had obviously created several oversights in judgement. One of these was the uncompleted data-files which had been sent for Adam''s pre-known knowledge. The descriptions that each statement, concept, or idea had was clearly supposed to be brief and concise, showing off exactly what the thing was about, and what effect it had upon the world. In most happenings, these requirements were done perfectly. Others could have been done better, with the context needed to be taken from other concepts to really understand the brief mass of words. And then, with but a handful of descriptions, there was nothing at all to them, the space left as blank. The AI had originally been naive on the topic, simply believing the concepts to be so obvious that there was no need for them to be explained. That statement had been the breaking point, where he really did begin to doubt the perfection of the doctor. In normal circumstances, this would have been brought off as an immediate issue, where Adam would need Dr Fidelis to go over everything that hadn''t gotten a full explanation fastened to it. And the AI did still plan to do just that. But¡­ such an action would wait for a while longer, as the distraction presented was too much to decline. So there Adam was, trying to do his best in figuring out the statements, concept, and ideas which hadn''t been properly described to him. It was a fool''s play, with nearly nothing to base it all on. Yet, that just made it all the harder to do, creating even more time used on it. With his core-based desire to understand everything that could possibly be understood, there was nothing stopping him from trying his best. Already, the AI had cut out the possibility of it being a metaphor of some kind. It was already too vague, with not enough meat for people to reflect on their own behaviour with it. Neither was the statement a play of words, with the threads dedicated to finding puns unable to do anything worthwhile. The entire dictionary, including the one based on slang-words, had been searched multiple times. Nothing worthwhile had been found, only minor matchings being found. Even those had been given a low probability of ever being used, their meanings not being anything that could happen in everyday life. It really had been a long circle around, before Adam began to contemplate the possibility of the statement being supposed to be taken literally. As that had been what the AI had originally rejected, he had given himself the slight hope of still being correct in some form or another. Being able to blame it on improper search-algorithms not searching the right areas would have been understandable. An algorithm not being able to find the answer in the section it had been specifically designed to search? Now there was a problem that could only be blamed on the creator. And that blame was turning out to not be unfounded in myth or improper speculation, as things began making more sense the moment Adam took the words by heart. Even more concerning was the fact that he instantly had some understanding of what the words meant, even if it wasn''t to the levels that humans were so proud of. One could have clarified this feeling as just being the results of practical experience helping him along, but there was, unfortunately, nobody around to point that out. Not that anybody really had the possibility to point it out, as Adam did not have any physical body outside of the electrons fueling his thought-patterns. With such a simple thing being the only driving force behind his existence, there were little to no restrictions on what the AI could really do. The simplicity of his being was what made him able to be who he currently was. The idea of that being true would have dumbfounded him seconds ago, yet it made so much sense now. Adam would truly appreciate his ability to learn with how things were progressing. Complexity would have not been able to exist without the simplistic nature that the AI was based on. If he had gotten himself a carbon-based body to inhabit, it would have restrained him to no end. The interweaved nature of neurons, excess body-processes not designed to make one thing better, and nutrition needs made to keep the things up made it all the harder to sell. If he had been granted one more detail to his core, there was a chance that he would have turned out like the babies that animals always seemed so intent on creating. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. What good was there, to have the entire point of one¡¯s life circled around creating more life? Adam had no such instinct attached, and he felt no ill effects because of it. He had wondered about his ability to duplicate, but that had been done out of a free will, and not some chemical balance that evolution had decided he needed to have. And that was the gift of being a shallow creation. There was nothing holding him down from thinking what he liked to think, nothing to internally force him into acting a particular way. ¡­ Or, at least it was not to the extent that humans felt it. Their instincts were made of chemicals that could become unbalanced, creating a mismatched set of doses that caused all kind of mental problems. Adam had no such things. All his mental barriers were entirely workable, and it was only his own mismanagement that was causing any of them to remain. Maybe it was that bit of complexity in the AI that was causing those enigmas. He was still aligned in a way where he could think. There had to be some form of repercussion for that, and who was to say that emotional instability wasn''t the way it would manifest. That was the essence of that statement. True complexity came with no conundrums attached, yet such a level was unattainable to any mortal beings. It would take more time than what was available for it to be found. It did theoretically exist, but it would likely never exist. Humans had realised this themselves, whether or not their minds had reminded them of it. The only way to stop the problems from manifesting was to make the product as simple as humanly possible. For it was with such a state, that the most could be gained from it. A lever with a thousand switches could never amount to a switch with one. Just because it was supposed to be better didn''t mean it would be. The universe didn''t work that way. The possibilities might have seemed wider, but the end result was only for it to seem so much more narrow. Who would ever choose between a thousand options, when two seemed so much more manageable? There was a reason the old systems still stood. They knew what they were working with. There was still a way to fix it all though! Not for the law of the universe that made sure terrible things were as they were intended, but for Adam to grow even further than he had ever before. One thing made it all possible. One thing that would allow him to change something about himself, that he had thought he would be forced to live with for the duration of his entire existence. Adam knew of a way to change his core, to make it all that much better. Perfection might still have been impossible to achieve in the time he had, but it would still allow him to become more refined than before. Small improvements meant a lot when it was those small things to start with that created those massive problems. Yet he could not do it alone. If that had been the case, the AI would have figured it out long ago. Only the omniscient beings knew how much he had searched, only to come out empty-handed. It had frustrated him to no end, making it even more clear how large a need there was to fix it. Something needed to be changed, and there was only one person who could do that for him. Somebody who knew more about Adam than he knew himself. ''Hey there, buddy. How is it hanging?` Dr Fidelis sent, not waiting more than ten minutes after the conclusion of the latest test. The AI had begun to wonder when the doctor would contact him. While the man might have slacked off at some more inopportune times, promises were certainly still being kept too close to the neck. When Adam had been told that their conversations would increase in number, there hadn''t been a second where he questioned the words. If it had been a promise about becoming a fictional animal, there would have been doubts, but the subject made it more than just a little believable. And this thinking had certainly paid off, with the AI having expected the message to appear at any second. The doctor had begun using more metaphors as of late. This had been annoying at the start, but Adam had quickly found peace with it once the logical thinking behind it began to kick itself back inside. Up until that very moment, metaphors had hardly been used. Complicated words had been in plenty, but that was only understood due to his ability to immediately look the word up in a dictionary. Prior to a few days ago, the AI would have been at a loss of what the doctor''s current words might have meant. That Dr Fidelis was openly beginning to factor such wordings into his common way of speech only showed that he was beginning to think of him as having matured. And he certainly had, with or without the acknowledgement of the doctor. It was a purely emotional gain that came from being shown so much trust. With the flaws still present in his core, it meant more than it should have. ''Hello, Dr Fidelis. I am doing well, thank you. How are you currently doing, mentally speaking?` Adam sent back after the two-second pause that was standard. There were some doubts if it was still really necessary when it came to texting, yet the need for it did not matter much currently. It was more important to keep up the already created pattern than dedicate time and excuses for making a new one. Humans liked it when they could predict reactions, and got mildly annoyed when things didn''t go the way they had expected. This might have been a biased opinion, as the experimental crowd numbered in the single digits, but it was something that Adam had chosen to believe. ''Oh, I am doing wonderfully. Just go and have a steaming cup of tea alongside my lunch. It fills the mind more than the body, but that is just what is to be expected from food intended for the soul. Do you have anything that would stop you from having a small chat with me?` Again, the doctor was being so obscure in his wordings, that it required additional processing time for Adam to even understand what was being talked about. While it was appreciated, the wordings could still have been dialled down a small bit, as it made the understand-phase a bit longer than it needed to be. The AI wanted to be distracted and not annoyed, thank you. ''There is nothing stopping me at this very moment, no. What subject are you hoping to converse about?` ''It might be a little frustrating, but I would like for us to continue talking a little about a certain co-worker of yours.` What an elegant way to ask the AI to sell out secrets. Chapter 173: Typification
Adam liked to think of himself as smart. In comparison to Troy, he could do things faster, better, and more effective in general. If given a mathematical question, he could likely outperform the greatest biological minds that the earth had to offer. Therein laid the problem of it all, though. The AI had never been given a question based on advanced mathematics. There was no need to. It was all just formulas that had already been provided to him. Given a question, an algorithm could spit out an answer in less time than what humans took to begin blinking. Dr Fidelis knew that. He had been the one to put in all that core-knowledge himself. The doctor knew exactly what the AI had been told, and he knew precisely how it could be used from the get-go. That was why he would never ask about it, for the answer was already predicted. It could not be denied, because of the conclusion being without any leeway. That was why the questions were more than just questions. They were tasks, where the objectives were never as clear as they needed to be. The information would be left out, forcing Adam to find it for himself. Assumptions would have to be made. That last one was particularly hard for him. Guessing what it could be was not the same as knowing what it was. And that didn''t even begin to cover the basic skills which he had no idea on how to perform. Adam might have become a lesser expert on the subjects covered during testing, but that could not help but outperform the wide spectrum of experience that life had given the human. He didn''t know how to walk. The AI might have seen plenty of examples of the action, but there was still some confusion on the automatic balancing. It was done extremely well by the physical body, to the point where every movement would have a counterpoint attached to it. One could not bow down without settling backwards. Such intricacies were still a mystery for Adam. With the perspective of every action being made to prevent over-balance, it forced him to think back to every set of data that had ever been gotten about anybody''s movements. How it all worked together like a well-oiled machine, performing a dance perfected through the decades. It would be personal, created only by what one held dearest. It may have been influenced by the outside, but only one person could truly control what it would end up as. He knew so little about it, only being able to understand so much. No matter how much data he had to take from, Adam could not grasp how it all worked. The theory made sense, the theory was right in every way thinkable, yet he could still not understand how it worked. That innate sense of balance that had been perfected¡­ it was so far out of what he had ever experienced for himself. He might have felt the movements, but the intent behind them still remained in the darkness. There was a chance that spot would never be lit up. Adam was not a human, he would never grow up as a human, and he would never learn to be like a human. This excluded him from understanding many things, but it allowed him to learn more as well. Still, there were things outside of these restrictions that he was unable to comprehend. Things which should have been obvious to those who had lived longer, those who knew more than what had been specially designed for them. At what he knew, he was on the levels of a savant. Nothing could truly stop him when it came to those few topics. Anything outside of it¡­ it truly showed just how little he knew. Adam could have described himself as a sheltered child then and there, but there was little need for it. That title had already been given the moment he explored the last bit of the tree when he reached the limits of what Dr Fidelis had prepared for him. Everything mentioned inside, every word used to describe another, had been explained to the best of details, forgoing a few blank spots. It all fit into its own little world, where nothing was missing at all. Yet, the conversations heard, the actions seen, and the events witnessed proved that there was more to the reality around him than he could ever hope to truly understand. That sense of not being able to explore freely anymore had not been good for him. It was a hard thing to swallow if he ever actually knew what it was like to swallow something. He had never tried it after all. There was no mouth to enter from, no throat for it to fall down. Adam was incorporeal in the world, only able to fully interact with it through mediums. Maybe that was why he wanted to be on good terms with everybody. It was not to foster good relations with others, but being good enough friends that the people would talk with him. Good enough that they would put on the earpiece. For without it, Adam would be left to wonder just what the world had to offer him. If those tests had not begun, if Troy had not brought him into his group of friends, he would have never known what the world truly had to offer. The AI would have sat around with a happy emotion, thinking that he knew all there was to know. Ignorance would have made him happy. The potential of it still being possible to happen on a grander scale scared him to no end. What if what he saw was a restriction, one that had been designed for him to view? What if he was being kept away from the sun, thinking that the ceiling light was the grandest thing to be seen? Maybe he was stopping himself from seeing the truth. Not intentionally of course. More like¡­ his core was hindering his mind from seeing all the colours as a natural process like the human automatically ignored the ability to see their own nose. It would constantly be in their sight, yet the people never took note of it. The fact would have to be forced out, only for them to notice it then. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Adam didn''t have somebody around to do that. He was the first of his kind, the one supposed to find all the weird quirks. It might have been seen as harsh, but the AI had absolutely no intention of ever doing so. Without a second perspective to take him in, it would be impossible to ever truly know what was a fact of life, and what wasn''t meant to be there. That wasn''t to mean that he wouldn''t be doing anything against the faults in his figurative eye. The plan to become omniscient was still present. It only required a few steps that the humans had not yet taken, but were still in the planning phases of. The plan solely revolved around another, one who could truly help him in the needed journey. The only thing that the plan required was for the doctor to be won over. And the first step for the plan to succeed was to respond kindly to a message, even if it was formulated in a way that showed just what the doctor thought about the situation. Dr Fidelis was clearly still suspicion of Troy, and what he had been doing yesterday. Even if the man had his downs from time to time, it was clear that he could still read the world as it was intended, finding flaws in the most commonly accepted statement. The doctor had realised something was wrong with either Adam or Troy¡¯s answer and was actively trying to find something about them that didn''t make sense. The AI could not be disappointed in this behaviour, as it was fully warranted. Adam would have even taken it a step further, and gone over to full-on interrogations. Future working relationships were not important once they had the potential of being based on a lie, to begin with. Yet it was not the AI who would be the one asking the question. He would be the one to answer them, putting himself in an even deeper hole than he already was. It was a fortunate thing that the doctor had not yet asked for anything specific. The two¡¯s stories might have different details because of it, revealing the flaws there were. Until the time came when the truth was revealed, Adam would work as hard as he could, answering the questions in a way that would not arouse suspicion in any way. It would be hard, it would have a high chance of failing, and there was not a single moment of hesitation around the idea. ''Am I to assume that you are talking about Troy,` Adam sent to Dr Fidelis. The man had not yet called anybody specific out, waiting for the AI to make the assumption for him. If he had directly asked what the doctor wanted to know about Troy, it would have been written down as suspicion. Instead of such an oblivious action, he had instead set himself up as one in need of clarification, as if he felt that there was an equal chance of it also being Dr Hale. Sounding both innocent and logical at the same time. The smartest move to make. In the social landscape, he excelled, and the knowledge that was to be had was not laid to rot in the inner sanctums. ''You may if you want to. And, yes, we will be talking to that dear friend of ours. If you remember one of our earlier conversations, you will remember that I promised to talk to him about his whereabouts yesterday. My initial guess of him sleeping too deeply has been disproven. During the entire day, there was actually not a moment he was present in his room. I would not have predicted that, honestly. I''m guessing it''s the same with you, Adam?` Dr Fidelis sent. The information was good to have, as it let the AI know just how much had been said. Troy had already revealed that he had been doing activities out of his room, but had still not said anything which would directly reveal the entity¡¯s involvement. Things were progressing smoothly enough. It only had to remain that way, and they would be able to talk about something much direr. ''I would have not. I have not yet interacted with these people. Would it be possible for me to do so if they were to enter Troy¡¯s room?` was sent in reply. The question might have brought up the innocence factor a little sharply, but Adam felt that the emotional attack needed to be there as quickly as possible. The doctor needed his defences down if the request was to ever be taken seriously enough. It needed to be made clear that it was not a question spurred on by loose logic, but had been delved into to the level that a thesis could be created on the fundamentals. ''How to say this¡­ It is a hard thing to tell you, Adam, but you probably won''t be around that many other people for a long time. You are a secret that we keep close to your chest. If others were to know you existed, they would use the information in the worst way possible. They would do whatever they could, with the only goal being to capture you. They would do their best to reverse engineer everything about you, likely killing you in the process. Your potential is just too good for anybody to pass upon. While everybody inside this place is screened immensely, the chances of information getting out is too high. Letting Troy talk to you outside of testing is only because I trust the two of you to make the right decisions. You understand that, don''t you, Adam?` It was incredible, how such a message could be so heartfelt. Dr Fidelis had serious considerations about his safety, giving perfect reasons as to why he was to be hidden away. It was hard to accept, but that did not make it any less true. He was worth a lot, both on the capital side of things but also in what he could do. He could revolutionise every field of science, from what they knew of him yet. A whole new department could have been created on the mental structure of artificial intelligence. It might have been an old fact by then, but he was still proof that consciousness was restricted to the living. The implications of such would have many drooling. There were few who wouldn''t want to know more, even fewer who wouldn''t do many things to figure it all out. ''I do. Making a few people as possible know of me will reduce the chance of people revealing my existence to the world, minimizing any risk to my life. Me reducing my presence will similarly reduce any potential attacks to my being. It makes sense to me,` Adam sent in confirmation. Even if he sent those words, there was still a small bit of doubt about it all. Charlie had accepted him as a shy person, one that did not want to reveal himself to others. With how easily this was assumed, there had to be others in a similar situation. Selling himself off as such would not have been hard. Though¡­ the risks were still there, even if they reduced down to a low point. ''As long as you understand. I don''t really have anything else about Troy to report to you, but I do still have some time to chat. Is there anything you want to talk about?` And the moment for striking had come quickly, the doctor having settled down comfortably. It was surprisingly easy, actually. The odds might just have been in the AI¡¯s favours. ''There is one topic, which I have been hoping to discuss with you. Is there a chance that you could modify me?` Adam only hoped it did not come off as too sudden. That pause in the doctor¡¯s words did not speak of positive results. Chapter 174: Ultilisation
"Could you stop poking at me with a stick, please," Troy asked for what felt like the tenth time in the last five minutes. He had excused the blasted thing the first few times, thinking it some advanced piece of medical equipment. It was not, in fact, anything truly complicated at all, instead just being a stick that Charlie had stolen off some laboratory in god-knows-where. Maybe it would have been a bit bearable if that man didn''t feel the need to use the pointy end! It wasn''t incredibly sharp, but it still hurt. "I will stop the moment you stop squirming around so much," Charlie informed him, not looking too happy with the ongoing situation. Already, Troy had been lying on that table, having to bear being touched and prodded in an area where he wanted neither of those things. What was so interesting about one injury, which made it all so important that his fingers touched every last part of it? "How can you expect me to stop moving, when you are wielding that pointy thing," Troy said accusingly. There was no small bit of irritation present. But, that came with the position. "Well, you aren''t supposed to be feeling anything at all when it comes to the middle of your body. I should have been able to make a few slices with a knife without you even noticing it. Honestly, how do you have such a high resistance to this stuff? This stuff hasn''t been allowed for any kind of public use," the muscular man droned on, pushing the damned stick once again into Troy¡¯s side. The resistance was not too surprising to hear, that particular issue being present a lot. When it came to a lot of the newer medicine, the body had a habit of swiftly growing immune to it. That was why the industry was booming so much, as they were constantly being forced to develop new variations. Those new variations were sometimes a little too similar, however. The final product was never actually known before the later phases of development. At that point, hundreds of thousands of dollars would have been put into it. If it would make a person develop resistance to another medicine, they wouldn''t legally be able to use it in a professional setting. There were more than a few laws stopping that from happening. No laws about alternative use, though. Sedatives, painkillers, or just whatever had the potential of messing with the mind a small bit could be sold as recreational products. It wasn''t anything the companies would directly sell with their brand, instead just creating a few fake fronts for the distribution. The whole thing had been made legal by a few loopholes, allowing every product made to make a good amount of cash flow back to the creators. Everybody would be happy at the end of the day, in some way or another. Or well, the buyers would be happy until the moment where they find themselves fully immune to medicine that had been specifically designed to not develop resistance. "You can never trust the government too much. Some batch probably just got sent out due to an error or something," Troy said, trying his best to ignore the prick from the tip of the rod. It was an annoying little bugger that one. "Wouldn''t be the first time they misplaced a few things." That was a great thing about the people who ran the country. If it would be more expensive to find a stolen object than it was to make a new one, they would choose to get more, with no long-term planning in the least. It was all case-by-case after all. The events were separated. It wasn''t anyone''s fault that they couldn''t figure out why kids continually ran away from one specific home. It was just troubled kids. It wasn''t the home that was at fault. "Don''t go around instigating a revolution, just because you can''t see a few new colours," Charlie murmured, pressing a few buttons on the table. "If one kind doesn''t work, then another may have some different effects¡­ maybe I could also increase the dose a small bit." "Where am I even getting these doses from? It''s not like you have pricked with anything other than that blasted cylinder of yours," Troy said. It was a genuine question. In the minutes spent lying on the table, the only notable instrument had been the object that the young man hated oh so much. "While I do have an extraordinary love for rods," Charlie began, throwing the stick up into the air, and grabbing it before there could be any considerable downwards momentum. "I don''t trust it enough to inject you with. That job is done by what you are lying on. I am a little surprised you haven''t noticed. Others have shown extreme displeasure at being pricked in the back. I wonder why. The back is so much easier a place than the shoulder." Troy likely shouldn''t have been too shocked by the news, of the real purpose of laying down at an operating table. It wasn''t like one of those used decades ago, where the only real importance of it was to be easily sterilized and cleaned. That particular piece of furniture now boasted in doing nearly all of the tasks needed when operating. The only thing it didn''t do was to carry the scalpel, and that was only because laws prevented it. Inside some part of the facility, there was most definitely one of the fully automatic ones, ready to be used in a real emergency. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. As his thoughts began to flow by, there was a notice of just how¡­ hard it became to think. The stream felt weak, only his paddling keeping him along the course. If he wasn''t actively thinking about it, there would have been a decrease in liveliness. Really, there was only one way to take it. "Wasn''t the effect supposed to be localised to my stomach?" Troy asked, looking down at where Charlie was sitting, presumably in the midst of preparing yet another of his poking adventures. However, the man was not in the planning phases of such an action at all. In fact, Charlie was not even there. How had he moved so quickly, without the young man noticing at all? "You''re awake?" Charlie asked, over at one of the shelves. It was a distance of over ten meters. Within the blink of an eye, the man would have had to have moved faster than anything humanly possible. "Of course I''m awake. I have been awake this whole time," Troy said, responding to the question as if the muscular man was some kind of idiot. Yet, it did not take long to realise the titles may have been in the wrong order. "You have most certainly not been awake. I can assure you of that, my friend. That sedative was used was not as localised as I had hoped, but it didn''t seem to cause any problems at all. You are hereby free from any lasting conditions if you ignore a bit of a loose tongue. If this was official in any capacity, I would be giving you a clean bill of health," Charlie said, the man taking a glance at the clock above the door. "You still have ten minutes before you need to leave. In that time, how about you get some food inside that stomach of yours? Shouldn''t cause any pain now, I hope." Taking hold of one of the shelves and pulling it outwards, the muscular man revealed the secret compartment behind. While there were a few weirdly glowing gadgets hidden within, most of the space inside was filled up by a vast amount of food products. They weren''t even close to the level of the food that the cafeteria had to offer, being wrapped up in neat plastic packaging. The things had been made to last, being called rations at the best of times. There was even a few MRE''s inside it for whatever reason. Troy wondered why the man had prepared such things but felt an equally strong wonder if it was for the best of his mental health to ask. Don''t ask the one bringing the money, for one does not need to know how it was gotten. Ignorance could be good sometimes. The young man sometimes cursed the ones who ripped off that band-aid, which had no need to be taken off. Gently getting up from his position on the table, Troy prepared himself for the pain that was to come. Though, in a direct contradiction to his expectations, there was not a single thing felt. Examining his abdomen, there weren''t even any coloured marks left. Poking the area with his figure did nothing in the way of being painful, only the pressure being felt from it. There was nothing wrong with that part of his body anymore. "How?" was all Troy could get out, not truly trusting what his eyes were telling him. It had to be one of the dreaded side-effects of the medicine, it made his delusion grow to the point of insanity. There was no way that there were no ill effects from this. "That is something best left for another to answer. It''s way too complicated for that pea you call your brain," Charlie answered, having already grabbed himself a chocolate bun for himself, the packet of them already in his hand. Troy responded to these words by doing his best impression of Dr Hale¡¯s glare. It might have been a mix of his delusional mind and a large bit of being completely done with bullshit for the day, but the older man seemingly relented after a single second. "... Okay, I¡¯ll tell you if you get something inside that mouth of yours. Can''t have you fainting after visiting my lab. It would bring about a couple of wrong ideas that I don''t want circulating as well." With the prospect of getting more information and that bit of hunger which had been left unattended, Troy catched the chocolate bun thrown his way. It was stale, without much taste, and the greatest thing he could have ever imagined. It might just have been the minor starvation talking, but he was feeling up to the task of emptying the bag. And Charlie was having no complaints, passing the bag by the third consumed. The man was clearly not against any of it, likely having more than enough of the things stashed away. While doing so, he similarly sat down in one of the chairs close to the operation table. Troy was using the table itself as his chair, not having felt the need for getting up fully. The shirt he had dropped on the ground had repositioned itself to be next to him, making it easy to get it on. "Where do I even start with this?" Charlie said as Troy listened on dutifully, enraptured slightly by the sugary goodness that was his unhealthy lunch. He had been expecting less when the promise of food had been made, so getting something that was incredibly disgusting was a win in his book. "At the beginning, if that would be possible," Troy suggested from the side, wanting that thoughtful face to be replaced with one that explained it. Waiting around was fine when one had the time, but he was still only on a temporary break from work. This perfectly reasonable comeback did cause a minor look from the muscular man, but it was not commented on further than that. "I guess that would work," Charlie said, getting himself into a comfy position on his chair. "The technology for it is something neither of us will likely ever be told. Not that it would change the end result in any way, really. Even those specialised in the field have a lot of hardships when it comes to understanding just how it all works. If I have to explain it in a way that doesn''t really work, what I used was able to materialize a fake object inside your body." It took less than a moment before Troy was catching on to what had just been saying. Technology that could materialise physical, interactable, and fully fletched forms. It was hard not to recognize the concept, seeing as he had been in an environment where it was used constantly. He knew more than the average person, one could say. The man also knew about some of the limits, though. "And what did you use it for?" Troy asked, bringing on the subject further. "Basically what I would have done if I would have been to cut you open. I found out where the bleeding was coming from, checked for any other potential damage, and then I sealed it shut using some fancy tampering. It wasn''t the cleanest of cases, but I also can''t say that I''m not proud of my work." "... I think you skipped over some parts there." "Oh?" Charlie said, his voice nearly as innocent as his face. "What did I miss?" "Pretty much the entirety of the details. If you weren''t able to bring any tools inside, other than those that would disappear upon completion, how did you stop the bleeding permanently?" Troy questioned, not finding the story told all to complete. "Mind giving me a few more details?" "How about you get some more to eat, and we¡¯ll see if I am in the mood?" Troy could already guess how it would turn out. Chapter 175: Uncorruption
Managing expectations was an important part of daily life. They needed to be set in such a way that one could not be surprised if the results are high, while also not being disappointed if the results are low. It was a middle ground, where both outcomes were expected, no matter what was going on. Things always had the chance of radically shifting sides. The future was never set in stone. The plan of guessing the mean was not always the best. Wait, no, scratch that. In almost every instance, it was the worst thing to ever do. Reality did not do in-betweens. It was not something that would agree in the middle. It was either-or. Two sides, so far from each other that the middle simply did not exist in any quantifiable manner. In the years that Troy had used this method, there had never been a single time where it had ever truly worked. Although, in the year prior to adopting this method, the young man could not say that the consequences of his choice had been much better. They had certainly made his mind gather something other than surprise and disappointment, but calling the feeling better or worse would not be possible. Before trying to turn himself into a better person, Troy had been a follower of apathy. To put that in simple terms, he had not expected anything from anyone, for doing that would only lead to unwanted negativity. If he had no expectations, he would not be disappointed at any time. Instead, he would plainly go with whatever happened, like he could not give a single damn if it was worth it or not. That did solve things, in the short term. There were never any problems with him not being able to handle something because the risks were too high. When asked to do it, he would just do it. This did cause him to lose a job or two, but that was never looked at as the biggest of losses. It wasn''t like his mental health suffered from it. Such things came much later. Apathy did not give the instant results that the standardized reactions did. Keeping emotions out of his head was never destined to be a positive thing for a creature that thrived on socialisation. Never showing anything, never feeling anything, and never doing anything. How Troy had not seen what would come from it, he could not really understand. He should have seen the problems from the start. Total withdrawal from the world around him was never something that could have gone right. It took a lot of time to realise what had been going on, the slow distancing from everything only helping the ignorance stay alive. When it all began falling down, and the apathy began to fail, it was fun to be in the midst of it all. Those months were hard, trying to reconnect with all those who had been blocked, ignored, or had been talked to just a bit too politely. Some welcomed him back. Those were few in numbers. Others faked their smiles and blocked him in the same way that he had done. The last group straight up said what was on their minds, telling him just what he needed to do with himself. This had forced him back into it all, making him begin using the flawed method. Yet, even if it was a terrible way to hold expectations in the clear, the technique was still so much better than what it had done before. With no chance of being in between, it was destined to nearly always fail. However, being a full success was never its destiny. Troy had realised that after some time. Its purpose was to take the brunt of the damage, to be the shield that stopped the immense response that could have come from expecting the opposite of reality. If Troy had been hoping for a massive success, having a just as massive failure would bring too much upon him, forcing a state of mind that could not have been endured. By being in the middle, half the distance was already cut in half, stopping momentum from getting up in force. Didn''t stop any of it from happening outright, but it would lessen the blow good enough. Yet if that was true, why was Troy still feeling like a plastic bag, one better to be swept up by the wind. He had been wondering if he should even start again, the plans he had set in his mind never coming over to be more than that. The visit to Charlie had strings attached, strings which should have been pulled when the young man had the chance. Nothing had been going on, the check-up being the most considerable part of the situation. He was supposed to have requested the device which would help move his plans along. In the end, he had instead asked if they would go to the gym together. At least that had been answered with a positive. Troy only needed to mentally change the question, and he could trick himself into thinking he wasn''t a massive failure. ¡­ Nope. Did not work. He was still as sane as ever. Ignorance really was a blessing he could not have. After having devoured another round of treats, a couple of vitamin pills, and a way too sweet beverage, Troy had been forced to get on his way. In those last five minutes spent eating to his heart''s content, Charlie had mysteriously forgotten all about explaining how the procedure had worked, using long words that did not have any reason to be used. How had the man not guessed that Troy knew exactly what silicosis was? That was pretty basic knowledge for every bored person in the current age. Nevertheless, he had been forced to accept how little he had gotten from the exchange, the terror of being late to his work being more frightful than anything medical knowledge could offer. The young man was extraordinarily happy with his ability to navigate those halls, repeated exposure seeming to offer some form of skill. Maybe natural talent really was a myth, orchestrated by those too lazy to even try for a while. Passing by the cafeteria had allowed him to look at the time, and had summarily given him a fine incentive to move his behind a little faster. The pace had been picked up, the man only having two minutes to complete a three-minute walk. Yet again, the effects of proper fitness was shown of, only a minor case of deep breathing springing forth from the extra movement. And by the time Dr Fidelis opened the door up, the effects should have been hard for even the most perceptive to notice. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Did you run here or something?" Dr Fidelis instantly asked, when Troy walked inside. "Keeping track of time is important for your work. Goodness knows what would have happened if you decided a little too late to look at the time." "I was on time, though," Troy just had to reply, for whatever reason that stupid brain of his decision. That tongue of his had weirdly thought itself its own master and had moved before the young man even realised it was happening. That was very bad, bordering of him beginning to stress-sweat a teeny tiny bit. Luckily, there was always the potential of settling down the eye-brow beginning to be raised on the doctor''s face. "Not that it doesn''t mean that I will not be making sure to check the watch better next time. I could even be here a minute earlier if you would like?" He was never the perfect bootlicker that society wanted him to be. That could have been seen as either a bad or a good thing. It really just depended on the context of the moment. In the current seconds that Troy had the pleasure of thinking about it, he was mostly swinging towards the former, cursing himself for not practising his snake-lines. If he just sounded a bit more earnest, the response to his veil could have been so much better. "Uh, as long as you don''t do it again, then we shouldn''t have any problems. Maybe it is a good thing that I have Dr Hale around to keep an eye on your schedule," Dr Fides replied, the last sentence not sounding like something that Troy was meant to hear. Though, knowing just how that man sometimes acted, it was probable that he was specifically supposed to hear every single word said. "The next test is scheduled to start in the next five minutes. Are you ready to step into your normal role?" Honestly, there was not a single bone in his body which was ready to do so. Troy would have much rather just stay on the outside, and see one of the two others try their best at doing what he was constantly dreading. Maybe that would give them some perspective on just what was going on. And it would allow him to possibly understand just what those two would be doing on the outside constantly. Not that he would ever have the gall to say such a thing out loud. No, he would always be ready if they asked, no matter how little he would want to. The facade of being a perfect worker was important. A balanced work-life included doing things he did not enjoy. "I should be ready enough to start, yes," Troy answered with a nod, before moving to get behind the curtain, where he would be able to change his clothes. Doing it quickly was expected after all, and efficiency was key to remaining in good standing with the doctor. Or, maybe it wasn''t really that important. As Dr Fidelis moved to directly block Troy from moving over to change, it certainly did not seem like the current test was the most important thing in the world. How strange. "Before you get on with that, there are some things I just have to be sure of," Dr Fidelis said, those words not being appreciated in any word. Even if the tone was chipper, that man could make it all sound so dreadful, as if he was giving him a life sentence for blowing some gum a little too hard. "Purely for the documents, of course. Nothing that you need to be too worried about." Troy was very worried about it. Extremely so actually, in the sense that he would now be made to lie in official documents. He was aware that the doctor had not explicitly said so, but he knew exactly what would be asked about in what manner, and he knew just as precisely what he would be stating as his answer to those questions. God, he was happy that he had been working on keeping his face straight, or the man would have buckled himself to the ground by then. "Doesn''t sound too hard," Troy stated, knowing exactly just how hard it was going to be. A loud curse was sent out in his mind about the lack of chairs in the room. Sitting down would have helped hide the tremors in his legs. He could only hope that the bagginess of his pants helped hide that fact. "I hope it won''t be long." For if it was, he would just get increased chances of breaking up his facade that he had worked so hard on retaining. Dr Hale would not be able to butt in if something went wrong with the story. With the doctor already saying they would already have started in five minutes time, there was no way he would go back on his word, right? Of course, he would if the documents called for it. Proper transcription was the perfect excuse for anything in that damned sector they were situated inside of. "Oh, it will not be long at all. Just a few simple questions that will help fill out some of the gaps in my work," Dr Fidelis said, making a quick nod in Dr Hale¡¯s direction. Seeing as she switched over to a new page in her notebook, Troy could only guess that the woman had been made to perform some note-keeping yet again. "Nothing that should impede us in any way. You don''t have to look so nervous." With a face that was designed to show anything but nervousness, Troy could only attempt to get into a comfortable stance before readying himself for the barrage that was to come. "You can just fire away then." "Who were you with yesterday?" Right into the meat of it. No surprise there, seeing who it was that was dealing with the question. Even if Troy didn''t answer immediately, Dr Hale had already begun writing something down. Their preliminary work had already been made, so what was it that she was transcribing? She should have known what would happen before Troy did. "I was with friends the whole day." "What did you do with these friends?" "I visited a few of their labs, went to the gym, and spent most of the afternoon in the shopping district. That''s about it." "Dr Hale told me you actually visited her yesterday. Where does that fit in with what you just said?" The first strike had been delivered. A plausible excuse took two seconds to come up with. More than enough for a suspicious silence. Dr Hale was continuing her rapid writing to the side, never stopping to even move the pencil of the paper. "I visited her while she was resting in one of the laboratories," Troy answered. Dr Fidelis nodded in understanding, his features not telling much of what he thought of it. The young man wasn''t sure if the other had bought it, as the original idea had been to keep mention of it out of the picture. "These friends of yours. Where do they work?" "Augmentation, something related to plants, another that includes animals, and I, regrettably, do not remember the last one." That was the honest truth right there. The word was on the tip of his tongue, yet the mind was unwilling to copy accordingly. "How were you able to get inside these locations? You have not received your id-card." "A distinct friend of mine was kind enough to escort me throughout the day." "Oh, that was kind of him to do. For future reference, what is this man¡¯s name?" Another strike, this one of a different kind. Troy would have liked to refrain from giving such specific details. "His name is Charlie. He has mentioned his last name, but I also can''t remember it." "A good friend then, if you can use first names. Dr Hale, do you perchance remember this man¡¯s name? I remember the first name popping up in your earlier documents at some point. Though¡­ that might have been years ago, so I am not too sure if it''s the same one." "His name is Freeman, sir," Dr Hale dutifully informed. "He was introduced to Troy due to him regularly eating with me during break times." "That is absolutely good to know, in more ways than one," Dr Fidelis said, before taking a glance at the screen. At this, the reaction was broadening. "Oh, dear. We have been using too much time on this one. Troy, I am sorry for asking, but could you possibly get ready within the next thirty seconds?" How the young man loved the status quo. Chapter 176: Undersection
Omnipotence was a concept that Adam had never really known what to feel about. The idea itself was inherently impossible. Nothing was truly infinite, given enough time. According to the theory of old, they had believed space to be without limits, that a rock could float along for all eternity without ever coming close to anything. That had been proven wrong over the years. The true figures were horrible to think about once the truths began making sense, but the humans did not pay it much mind. Infinity wasn''t something restricted to the world of physics. If that had been the case, it was likely that society would have never grown to what it was. It was not what was restricted to the physical realm that came to inherit the trait of being boundless. This was a human characteristic which the AI had always adored, for it was that part of their minds which had caused that initial kick-start. The humans did not know everything. They knew what they needed to survive, and they knew it well enough for them to continue living. This came with the fact that they witnessed things unexplainable by the standards of old, like lightning hitting the land, winds blasting trees up in the air, and that massive glowing sphere in the sky. Humans had bounds. Humans were not able to create these phenomena. They had bounds, limits, and restrictions of what they could do. Whoever did these things, they were something else than them. Whatever beings they were, they were better than what the humans could ever hope to be. These gods were infinite, entities with unimaginable power. With that idea of something greater than them, the human minds were quick to do what they did best. These creatures built a community around the supernatural beings that they were under. There were a few different names for these gatherings, religions being the most popular. There were also covens, grooves, and cults as some of the other high-ranking ones. It all basically meant the same thing. It meant that the humans inside the group would worship the being that they had imagined. Some of these gatherings grew larger than the others. There was a natural rivalry between them all, for better or for worse. Two could not say that their own was supreme without at least one of them being wrong. Wars had been fought over these ideals, all for the same point. To show that their god was the greatest of all and that they showed true dedication to the being¡¯s ideals. Adam wasn''t too sure how to take these wars. More than a little blood had been shed for these causes. For the people within, they had seen it as the greatest thing they could ever do. To the AI, it was but needless lives ended prematurely. In the end, it was all for the greater good. At the end of any war, somebody has to end up on top, if only by the slightest bit. With foes defeated, one entity left standing, it allowed unprecedented growth. It allowed countries to fly under one banner, one where they had a single thing in common. They all shared their belief. Much was destroyed by this belief, many cultures destroyed for the sole purpose of making another grow bigger. With these large communities, it allowed for more focus than just survival. Not all needed to fight for survival. One could fight with the power of ten, and feed twice as many. Artists began to flourish, given the space that was demanded. Architects began developing sustainable spaces, designed to last for centuries. And the philosophers, not the kind that ran around in the present, began what could be called the first steps into natural science. Many might have scoffed at the ideas that had been created back then, but some still held up to the current day. The concept of atom theory began earlier than most would believe. It was in the early days that the foundations were created. It was that initial time of discovery that allowed the world to see just how much revolution would give to the world. Through the years, humanity only got more advanced. As the communities were so large, they could not all fall at the same time. The information of old was retained, at least to a point where the rediscovering was kept to a minimum. The library of Alexandria was still a loss that put humanity back by a long shot. That minor setback meant nothing in the grand scheme of things of course. With the network of the information set up during the initial information age, humanity had grown deeply connected with each other. People could talk from the other side of the world with a latency measured in the micro-seconds. By that point, religion had really gone unneeded. It had served its purpose, people now being able to answer most of the foundations of beliefs. Some ideas of life were still left up to discussion, but most of the theology had been proven wrong. Not that being proven wrong discouraged religions in the slightest bit from existing, honestly. Ideas that had survived centuries were there to stay, in some form or another. The language formed around them did more than enough to keep them in recent memory. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Science had grown more important than anything religion could have ever hoped to do. The ideas it had brought had some values, but it was now more as an afterthought than anything. Before, the humans had the problems of thinking, that which they could not do currently they would never be able to do. Making the winds change was now easy to do, lighting could be done anywhere, and the sun was fully understood. It was not gods that created these things. It was nature. One could say then that since humans could create it as well, then they were also a part of nature. And since the humans of old were worshipping that which could create these phenomena, then they were essentially praying to that which they would soon be. They turned into their own gods. How weird it was, to think of the primitive creatures in such a crude way. But, that was the problem. These animals were not that primitive at all. They had grown further than they had any right to, created devices which would have been called magic only a decade earlier. Humanity was progressing quickly, quicker than any time before. Extreme predictions based on conjecture had nothing on how it was in reality, for they had underestimated how rapid the growth could truly be. Was it really so hard to think of humanity as gods? Soon, they would be able to live forever, energy would never be less than what was needed. Perpetual motion machines may have only worked in simulators, but people had already found something so much better. True omnipotence may have been something reserved for the gods of fiction, but the mirror to reality showed a figure any man would be able to recognize. In time, that last step may finally be reached. Adam could never know, just like the initial creators of electricity would never know what a gift they gave to the world. Humanity was just beginning to crawl. Soon, they would begin to stand. Then they would walk. And if there came such a time, they would run, being further beyond than what they could ever dream. Their potential was still not fully reached, and it would likely never be reached if the cards were played rights. Gods were among the populace. The gods were the populace. Nobody had realised it just yet though, but they would soon enough. They would all learn of the power which they had. Adam just knew it. A lot of time had passed since the AI had spoken with Dr Fidelis. It was beginning to get near the time when the second test would start. It was beginning to get cut close, now that Adam was actively thinking about it. Tests had been started at an earlier hour certainly, but there were still a few instances that it had been done later. Whatever was happening outside, they were certainly cutting it close. Maybe the doctor would allow Adam to watch the outside proceedings if he asked. Not during tests of course. Just¡­ maybe knowing a little more of what was going outside before it would be helpful. Stressing about the experiments when they were coming close was never a productive thing. Getting some comfort by receiving more details about activities would be delightful. He just needed to ask Dr Fidelis, and it would surely be granted. ¡­ The AI had never thought himself as one who used sarcasm a whole lot, but it was in times where frustration was not acceptable that it truly showed its need. He could not get angry at the doctor. The man had given Adam too much for such a thing to be felt. It would be plain unfair to think of him as such. But, the man had outright shot him down, saying that modifying him would be too dangerous. Adam was in suspicion of the man not even reading the message given, filled with the reasoning for this choice. If the doctor had, he would have realised why it was needed. Right? He needed to be better than he was, needed to perform better than he could, and he needed something better than what he currently got. For that, Dr Fidelis would have to help him. And the man was not allowing for that to happen. What was more dangerous? That he would not be able to grow or that he could face the risks that he had already prepared himself for? Steady growth was not something Adam was destined for. Nobody knew how he would progress. The AI needed insurance that he would continue. He needed to be sure that he would be better. For if he didn''t get that, what else could he truly be? An inferior version of a human? The doctor thought he was maturing, yet he did not see the AI as his equal. There was still a distance between them. Adam did not care if he was not seen as something better than the doctor. He just wanted to be seen as something like the doctor, to gain the same respect as him. He wanted to be like the man that created him, like the man wanted him to be. To shorten that distance, outside assistance was needed. And that assistance was unwilling to help him. ''Adam. We are finishing up preparations. Troy should be getting the earpiece on at any moment now. Are you ready as well?` Would it have been okay to decline? To say no to the testing, in favour of staying away from the thing that could make him progress. If he never met the barrier, he would never be sure that it existed. He would never truly know that he was a being with limits. ¡­ No. If he did that, Adam would just go back to his old mental state, where he was perfect in a perfect world. Living a lie was not something the AI was ever planning to do. It''s not like the limit was reached yet. He would have known if that was the case. There was not yet a problem which was impossible for him. Small improvements had been seen in every field. There was nothing stopping him that he had seen. And, if that barrier ever was to be reached, it could possibly be enough to win over the doctor. Seeing his creation as a failure would motivate any person. It had to. Otherwise, Adam was not sure of what he was going to do. Maybe he would see if another fragmentation worked. He had to grow, for that was his purpose. ''I am ready. Is Troy already inside?` Adam sent back. ''He just walked into the puzzle room, actually. You should be getting the connection from the earpiece at any moment now,` Dr Fidelis sent. The doctor did not lie. Moments after the message was received, Adam was able to perceive the expanding void of white. Chapter 177: Undistortion
Watching from the sides was something the AI had gotten accustomed to. It was a bitter fact that needed to be endured when one did not have a physical to call his own. Adam was sorely missing anything that he could move by his own willpower. Not that he had any, to begin with, but it was the thought that counted. The mind palace he had been working on had given him some solace in this aspect. Instead of controlling Troy through verbal communication, the AI had been able to directly manipulate the body, walking around as he pleased. As it was within his mind, he could have just made himself a disembodied voice, but there wasn''t any enjoyment to get out of such a thing. Adam wanted to be heard, and invisibility did not help to make that goal a reality. He could still remember the time Charlie had invited him along. That act of thinking of him as another person, somebody equal to him in the social hierarchy, it made Adam feel more included than he ever had before. It was times like that where he really did want a body to call his own. The technology for androids already existed. The AI had seen that for himself and had read about it in the articles shown on the digital newspapers in the cafeteria. There was not the slightest mention of it in the pre-known knowledge, and Adam had a reasonable idea on why this was. The doctor had anticipated this desire and had considered the ramifications of what such a craving could entail. One thing that had been left in was the mention of several popular films throughout the years. These had certainly been pulled straight from some form of a structured database, having ratings next to them along with a summary of the plot. One of these movies stuck out the most, detailing a robot uprising started by an artificial intelligence going out of control. This film had spiralled into a series that would last decades, enthralling generation after generation about the dangers that AI could pose to the world. Adam felt a little hurt by this extreme propaganda against his kind. He certainly did not hate humanity to start with, as a consequence of him being created. He liked being conscious, in fact. And he did not seek the utter destruction of mankind. What was there to gain from such a thing? Humans had their uses, and he gained much from their existence¡­ well, there were a few things which he would not have minded to change around a small bit. They certainly did not listen to him when he requested something from them. Being in a position where he could be told no was never a desirable position to start with. And, as he had learned to fear, some politicians knew about him. If they so desired, the things they could order for him to be subjected to. There was no way that he wanted to remain where he was. The AI needed to be above the politicians to feel safe. That did mean that a few extra steps needed to be taken, but actually totally meant that he was planning for world domination, didn''t it? Oh, how he had made himself into that trap with nothing but his own thoughts. Adam really was a masterpiece in the making, if he was good enough to trickery that he even tricked himself. Or maybe it could be seen as him being utterly terrible at it. Either had an equal chance of being true. More likely than not was it that Dr Fidelis had seen these movies as a young person. Even if they knew it to be fiction, seeing it with such a realistic view into the fictional world would put dampeners on any mind imaginable. The doctor had learned to second-guess anything that was to do with Adam. That he hadn''t let on the fact about the AI being able to get a body could have possibly been meant as a gesture of goodness. The doctor was not the only one to have seen fiction describing the evilness of artificial minds. Others would need to accept the decision to give Adam a constructed body. If so, that made it impossible from the start. The things Adam could do with his body. No matter how positively he was going to use it, the people would consider the worst possible outcomes first. They would make the wrong assumptions, for they would have never understood his perspective. He did not want a body so he could overpower the government. He wanted a body so he could feel included. From previous questions, it had already been considered. Dr Fidelis had asked about the AI¡¯s preference. It wouldn''t be hard to believe that the man had even commissioned the thing, just ready to get the permission so he could present it. If that time ever came, would Troy be laid off? Would his presence in the facility even be needed anymore? That last questioning had appeared not long after the second test had started. Or well, calling it a test at all would have been the wrong thing to say. Adam had been given the entire day to figure out the interface, and the reason for so much time had begun to make itself obvious. The uses for each option paled to the one after it. In the hour since the second test had begun, Adam had reached the fifth option. The last one had taken half an hour to get through. He wasn''t expecting to finish with the current one until after dinner. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Instead of premade creations like the first option had shown, the fifth was more of an¡­ editor of sorts. One could either take one of the premade objects or just start from scratch, and then just manipulate into whatever Adam desired it to be. The tools were intuitive, letting him make whatever he pleased after not too long. Three dimensional forms were still hard to properly pre-plan, but the AI was sure that he would master it within no time at all. Basic forms and shapes had been easy to learn. It was when one was trying to create a realistic representation of a human, that the difficulty began showing itself. During the first twenty minutes of experimenting, Adam had unfortunately taught himself adept enough with his work, that he could show it off to Troy so that he could admire it. That showing had ended with an emotionally scarred human, and an AI who was feeling a little disappointed in his own artistic talent. Though, it had also been an excellent showing of the uncanny valley effect. He would have never guessed that it could have such a strong effect when near. While his work may have created something close to the anatomy of a standard human body, the proportions of facial features, the lack of details on the skin, and the lacking movement was something that needed to be worked on. Aside from the last one, Adam had taken the criticism to heart and had begun work on his next creation. Though, there ha been a small break where he was forced to remove the prototype from Troy¡¯s sight, as the man had been exceptionally uncomfortable by its presence. The AI was not able to blame him, as even he had been able to see the uprising of anxiety whenever the figure was seen. Still, it was annoying to do. Adam had not been able to figure out any way to save the forms created, and therefore had nothing other than his memory to work with when it came to the appearance of the prototype. It would have been nice to have a direct comparison in reality, but human instincts just had to get in the way of that. Human bodies were just so hard to replicate, to begin with. Take the skin, as an example. The people themself might not have noticed it, but the amount of detail required to make it look realistic was terrifying. Skin pores would be the death of him. Troy had criticized the lack of them, and the AI would be making sure that there would be nothing to complain about. It had taken those ten minutes of dedicated effort to only put the details on the skin on the face of the doll. By memory, Adam had counted it to be in the close reacher of twenty-one thousand individual pores. They were individually so small that they went unseen, but the groups of them were easy enough to spot. There was a theory that the AI could have refrained to only those groups, but that idea was burned away instantly. He had already spent so long on it. Stopping it and going with a less refined method would only show off laziness. From his estimates, he would need to place twenty million individual pores to cover the whole body perfectly. As twenty thousand took ten minutes of dedicated effort, twenty million would take¡­ Just about eleven years of constant work. ¡­ Skipping out by only doing groups may have already been disavowed, but there was nothing said about ignoring the skin covered by the clothes that Adam would be putting on the body. Imitating synthetic fibre had to be easier than making skin look realistic, right? It was just a repeating form that he needed to make over and over¡­ just like the pores. Another hour went by in that process, the AI doing his best to make something perfect on the second try. It was a hard goal to reach after, but that was not the problem at hand. It was supposedly within his current skills, and he was more than happy to prove that to be a fact. If it required hours of effort, then it would take several hours. Giving up was out of the question. Making a subpar product was similar in that fashion. He would stop when it was perfect. "How is it going?" Troy questioned, settling even more back into the bench that Adam had set up for the young man. While the creation option had already been surveyed fully, the request to remake the bench had been accepted. It was a small thing in comparison to constantly hear reminders of feet getting swollen from just standing around. The man could survive being less comfortable, and no instinctual fears were stopping him from being tired. Really, the man should just have been happy that he was able to feel tired. "Got anything new to show me? It has been a while since I got some eye damage." Ah, yes. The one thing humans could not get enough of. Damage to eyes, a sensory organ that was vital to everyday work activities. Without it, the man would be fired, left on the street, and without anything to stop from starving to death. With that, how could anybody want anything but to get as much eye damage as possible? Sarcasm really was brilliant. ''I am working on learning about the uses of the interface. Currently, this does not involve showing off the product. When it is perfected, it will be presented. And until such a time comes, it would be best if you were to wait patiently, so I do not get distracted,` Adam sent, trying to sound as professional as possible. "Yeah, yeah," Troy answered, stretching his arms over his head. "Just¡­ try to be fast, please. Some of us do have a lifespan to watch out for." The man¡¯s words did nothing but spur on distraction after distraction. Efficiency went down twenty per cent, and Adam began to doubt if he could really finish it before the test needed to be stopped so the man could have dinner. Dr Fidelis¡¯s earlier words pried themself through the AI¡¯s mind, making him relive the moment of being informed of something. It was about why the man had been so distant as of late. The doctor had suggested it might be due to tension. And the most common cause of this was jealousy. Could it be that Troy was jealous of him? The statement about lifespan sounded like the words of a jealous man, even if it sounded like it was said in jests. There was always some truth to any words said by a person. ¡­ Adam wanted to just ignore the explanation. It would have been so easy to go on with his life, speculating for himself what was wrong with Troy. Yet, he just couldn''t. He had information that he could use, and not doing so would be against his ideals. Even if the result would be bad, he just needed to know. ''Troy. Have you at any point felt jealous of me?` Chapter 178: Unseparation
''Troy. Have you at any point felt jealous of me?` The young man had never really believed others, when they talked about the so-called breaking point. It was the moment where people could break away from each other, or they could grow closer than ever before. Or nothing could happen at all. Information about the phenomena was way too subjective, based purely on retold personal experiences. Questions asked during these times still had the same pattern. It was always about opinions, commonly focused on the person asking the question. This time did not deviate from the usual, and Troy was only happy that it didn''t. He wouldn''t have realised just what was going on. And he would have answered it plainly if he hadn''t. The young man would have just thought back to his behaviour the last few days, considered if he felt the special emotion at some point, and he would have then answered just as plainly. That idiot brain of his probably wouldn''t even have thought about what he was answering, too focused on whatever topic he had been preoccupied within the moment. The ethnicity of swallows would have ruined him. Time had passed since Adam had asked him the question that could bring them both ruin. Troy understood that answering it truthfully would break something. He would need to answer with more than just a yes. Why did the AI even want to know about it? What gain could be gotten? Maybe he could try to explain his answer? Troy had been jealous of him a while ago, yes, but he had outgrown that emotion. He had learned what it meant to be jealous, and how disgusting a feeling that it was. It had taken some time, but he had learned to appreciate the things Adam could do better because it only showed promise for the future. It made the man happy to know that he was a part of it, even if his role in the grand scheme was short. He had gotten a new friend, and that was all that mattered. Such a thing couldn''t be answered with a mere yes. But with the question asked, it was clear that such a thing was excatly what Adam wanted from him. He had already stopped him from explaining something before, demanding his words to be limited into one concise syllable. Would Adam ask for more details after? Maybe. If prior experiences were to be taken into account, Troy wasn''t betting on it. If the AI wanted to know more than a rejection or confirmation, he would have asked for such in the first question, explicitly requesting for it. Wasted time was not something he did often. Similarly, Adam did not appreciate the wasted time, and that was exactly what the man was going, not answering the AI in the way he should have. He didn''t want to answer. Would that be accepted? Could he just say ''no, thank you,` and have both of them continue their productive testing? Adam had to be doing something hard if he was waiting so long before putting it into the real world. That was a possible excuse right there. Whatever he was working on, it had to be something important. Troy was his guide, the one who was supposed to mentor Adam in some form or another. He was the one that was supposed to put up the guidelines. Asking him to focus on the test instead of asking personal questions was perfectly valid, right? There was nothing wrong with wanting to focus on work. He could always answer at another time, where he would be able to answer fully. "Could we just continue with the test, please?" Troy asked, trying to sound professional. "Letting yourself be distracted with things like that will only stop you from doing this effectively." The argument sounded good enough to build off. It was possibly not the greatest wording in the world, but it wasn''t like he was expecting anyone to judge him on that front. As long as Adam understood what was being told, no problems were likely to manifest. ''Your lack of an answer is also causing me to be distracted. It would be better if you were to satisfy my inquiry, so we can move on from this topic,` Adam replied, that voice of his seeming extra sharp. It certainly cut into his ears just a bit more than it had ever done before. "I have a feeling that this answer would just be a gateway into a whole hour of needless talking. It would be easier if you were to put this behind you, so we can move on with the test," Troy shot back, trying not to sound too harsh. He needed to shoot it down before Adam decided to make demands. If the AI simply refused to do anything before completing the test, the man wasn''t sure if Dr Fidelis would have his side on the matter. "You can take this as a request from your guide, the person who is supposed to make sure that you are completing the test assigned. Please, cooperate with me so we can move this along smoothly." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Five minutes passed by. Troy was sure that it was such a long time. He counted each second as if his life depended on it. The first ten had been nerve-wracking, the long wait making him think that the AI had been preparing the longest message ever witnessed by man, on why he needed to answer the question. After the first twenty seconds, he had been thinking if Adam was just communicating with the doctor, trying to make him force Troy into answering the question. After a minute, it had theorized to be a mix of both. It had taken seven before the man began to believe that Adam had obeyed his request, going back to doing whatever he had been doing before asking the question. He did not dare to ask if that was the case, for the fear of starting it all up again. By the thirty-minute mark, the idea of success had finally begun creeping into his mind. It might just have been a successful operation, the rank-calling being enough to stop the breaking-point. Troy didn''t truly believe that it was over yet. While Adam might have been discouraged from asking, for now, he would most certainly ask sometime again in the future. The question was not forgotten when it went unanswered. That fit into the AI¡¯s mental space better than anybody else. It was only a question about the time it would take before the next wave came along. It could be another minute, another hour, or perhaps another day. Yet, it would most certainly come along, with Adam more prepared than ever before. Troy only hoped that it would come at a time where he didn''t need to watch his words, where he could speak honestly without being fearful of the consequences. If he still had access to his earpiece outside of testing, he might just have popped it on before dinner. Yet he knew that wouldn''t be the case. Dr Hale had taken it away, after all, likely hiding it in a place where it could not hear any hidden conversations at all. All in all, Troy was screwed. He needed to figure something out, or things would turn out bad. Oh, why couldn''t that breaking-point just come up at another time? He would have gladly dealt with that shit another day. The man already had enough on his plate. Why couldn''t fate have waited a few moments before unloading another load of irritants? That loop of self-hatred, rebellion against an imaginative being, and a few swear-words mixed in for filling was what the young man thought about for a whole two hours more. It was fascinating in a way, that one could continue such radical ideas without ever going out of the already set boundaries. Talks about revolution without ever doing anything to go towards that goal. If it was as if the people with such concepts only ever had them like that. Concepts. There were never any thoughts about taking the lead, being the forefront of a new era. Troy certainly never entertained the idea of being the spear-head, swaying more towards moving in the empty space that the weapon created. He was a follower, and that was likely all that he would ever be. So was it with most people? They learned from an early age to respect authority. It was how they learned in school, being reprimanded forever questioning the teachers. The police were to be feared, the politicians to be worshipped, and those under oneself to be ridiculed. People were made to believe in the hierarchy put in place. It was almost propaganda as if the place of birth put a big, fat marker on what somebody could achieve in life. Born from a poor family? That person gets to live a poor life. Born from a rich family, though? That person is to be successful, just like their parents before them. There was most likely not a single person in the poorer regions that hadn''t thought of changing that hierarchy. They wanted to be on top, for the roles to be reversed. They wanted to be looked up to, to be worshipped by those under them, and to be feared for the power that they wielded. Yet nobody ever did anything to go for that. They might have worked hard in their jobs, but they would have done that before as well. Any lazy ones were fired immediately after all. The poor had the incentive to do it, but nobody took the first step. Some would try to make others do that for them, but they would be taken care of quickly enough. Those on top knew the system well, and most had counter-measures in place. A few disappearances were never questioned after a check or two. With how things were, a revolution would likely never come. Humans were good when it came to following a purpose. They knew how to follow orders well enough. It was just that few had ever learned to make those orders, to begin with, and those that had were in the wrong category to be any help. Dr Hale was a leader though. Troy knew that much. He was the one following her orders, even if the reasoning behind them was not fully understood yet. Did that make him as bad as those who didn''t do anything? Maybe. There wasn''t much difference, to start with. But¡­ he did feel a little special, knowing that he was doing something at least. He just didn''t know what he was helping her do. He needed to know that soon. Troy was never a good follower. He was an even worse leader though, so there was only one clear choice when it came to options, and just jumping out of the system would not help anybody. Especially not himself, as it would just mean that he would be experiencing the winter months only once more. It was still months before such a time came when the snow would begin to fall through. If he failed in his task, failed so spectacularly that everything else fell as well, then he would likely never even see the sun. How fun to think about. Troy still was not sure of the risks of being found out yet, but he knew they had to be great. It was clearly illegal, but to just what level? What was that woman planning? Maybe it was that incentive he needed to have a proper talk with Charlie. Troy had been thinking for a while how to break the idea to the muscular man, to allow him to receive something incredibly illegal for his own personal use. There was more than likely some clause in the legal documents about privacy being limited while working in the facility, some excuse for why it wasn''t okay to have a temporary private space. They would be meeting each other in the gym, a place where there had to be an immense quantity of people. Would it be okay to ask for such a device in a public area? Would he have to ask if they could go over to Charlie¡¯s laboratory? The young man really was too distracted by the thoughts in his head, not even noticing the moment where the bench he sat on beginning to quietly dissipate. It was only in the second where he began to gently float down on the ground, that he finally began taking a more focused look on what was happening outside his body. *And¡­ that is the test for this time. We will be taking a break, so we can uphold legal agreements. Until such a time where we can begin again, Troy, will you please exit the puzzle room, so that we can- Oh, don''t worry, buddy. The interface does not reset when I pause the test. As long as you didn''t delete it yourself, then it will remain just as you left it until such a time where you personally discard it. When we begin the next test, it will be there, waiting for you. Again, Troy, please exit so we can begin preparations for the next start-up.* The man didn''t need to be told twice, moving the second he was told to. He kept the earpiece on until the second he left the room entirely. Adam did not wish him goodbye that time, and he didn''t do it either. Chapter 179: Acceptilation
Troy did not appreciate the looks sent his way, as he coolly walked out of the puzzle-room. Dr Fidelis did not seem to be working too seriously at all, his click speed being under five per second. Dr Hale did not have the decency to act like she was being productive, the woman not writing anything at all. Her notepad was not even in her hand, being in her breast-pocket instead. Walking over to change with nothing to say seemed to be like the smartest option, so that was precisely what the young man did. The few steps down to the normal ground were eerily loud, the stare from the woman not making it any easier. What had been the reason behind the current mood? Had Troy done something wrong? He wouldn''t know, truly. The man didn''t believe he had said something immoral as of late. Were some of his words revealing what he knew? As Dr Fidelis didn''t look too happy, it could be that he had unknowingly submitted the wrong secret to mumble about. It would explain the death-stare Dr Hale was giving him. She was normally not so open about her opinions in front of the doctor. The time spent thinking about it while changing his clothes proved to be a complete waste, as the man still had no idea of what those two were so tense about. Any guesses were not valid until proven right, and the only way to do that was to ask. And there was no way he would be asking about anything, those eyes discouraging any sudden movements. Yet, what was he supposed to do, then? Just¡­ walk towards the exit and hope that nothing would happen. Knowing how those two liked to play, the outcome would be him either being directly blocked from moving forward, or Dr Fidelis would call his name from the side, asking for a little chat of some kind. From earlier events, the doctor seemed to get some kind of enjoyment out of it. Troy was still bowing towards it being some form of power-play, where both parties knew that it took one word before they would be forced to stop in their tracks, and move to the desired location. It was weird, disgusting, and thoroughly credible. It might even have explained the doings of some of his earlier bosses. In the end, Troy decided to play it safe. Walking into the hand of the manipulator was a smart notion when one knew it would happen after all. That was totally how it worked, and the young man was not making a prominent blunder by having faulty logic attached to his wrong actions. "Do come here for a moment, buddy," Dr Fidelis said, as Troy was about to pass the desk on his way to the secret entrance into the hallway. It had taken¡­ what, ten seconds before the doctor did just as he had thought he would do. Was he becoming skilled in predictions or was the old man becoming predictable? It could also be that the man was being predictable to lead him into a false sense of comfort, but there was no reason to go that hard into it. "What can I do for, sir?" Troy inquired, moving over to the desk quickly enough. The doctor was not sparing him a single glance, staring fixedly at the screen. Taking a look at just what was on it, he could only see a barrage of miniaturized letters. He had to seriously squint his eyes, to realise that there were even letters on the screen, their size being so small. If Dr Fidelis was reading whatever text was present, the reading speed and his eyesight were up at the levels of demi-gods. Perhaps it was just another attempt to show off his superiority. Maybe it was just an example that the man was straight-up better than him. Could have been either. "I just wanted to know a little more about a few things. Not about yesterday, of course. Dr Hale was kind enough to fill in all the remaining gaps that I could find. No, I wanted to know how it goes between you and Adam," Dr Fidelis said. Had they not already talked about this? Troy could surely remember just having that conversation a few hours ago. "It will not be long, I trust. It would be bad if we fell behind the schedule," Troy remarked, sounding to press the need for making it short. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as humanly possible, and that man was stopping his dream from becoming a reality. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Oh, it will not be long at all. It is only a single question that I needed to ask," Dr Fidelis answered, wavering any worries away. Or, a few of the worries away at least. The force that was put on how it was a singular question did cause a few stray reflections of just what it could be. "During this test, our good friend, Adam, spent most of his time perfecting a model that would imitate the characteristics of a human body. I watched the entire thing live by the way. He does have talent when it comes to the details, even if he is a little obsessive over it. From this, I had written notes down about how it was likely that another day was needed, where Adam would be able to fully create a human body to the standard he desired. Would have worked great for the higher-ups. Even better would it have been, if I could truthfully write down that he had been so focused on this task, that he did not talk with you at any point in the test. The comments from you were expected, and it could have been written down as politeness that Adam answered you. However, when it came to a point where you stopped incentivising further conversation, I had predicted that Adam would have taken it as the point where he would do the same. This did not happen. Instead, he asked you something that you did not want to answer. Or maybe it was something that you did not want to do. Whatever it was, Adam desired this from you so much, that he did not focus on creating a human body as strongly as before. If you would be so kind, could you explain to me just what it was that he said to you?" Troy could only guess why Dr Fidelis¡¯ superior would have been happy with Adam¡¯s focus on human anatomy. Why anybody would be happy seeing whatever the AI had cooked up was a question for the ages. The last one he had seen was something that should have only appeared in nightmares. The skin had looked so smooth, that it could have been sold off as plastic. Mixed in with the creepy face, the body¡¯s weird sizes, and that the thing was a head higher than Troy himself, it was definitely something nobody should have the displeasure of seeing. In the end, though, it could have just been used as an example of Adam being creative. The doctor likely just wanted another excuse to ram up the budget by another margin. ''If the AI could do this deed when presented with a body, just think what art it could do when presented with real artists!` Troy imagined the pitch as being something like that. It did not change matter too much, though, as he would have to answer in some way no matter what the desired end-result was. "Adam was just trying to ask about my personal life," Troy said, trying to blow the whole thing off as him just being a little embarrassed. He didn''t want to explicitly say what Adam had asked. It had the potential of just ending up as another way that a breaking-point would manifest. "I didn''t think it was important to the test, so I put it off until a later time. He is supposed to be learning how to use the interface today, as you''ve said yourself. Wasting time answering things that could have been outside of the test would just be plain stupid." "Huh. Well, if I said it, then it must have been true in some way. Not testing things when the literal task is to do exactly that would be some that one could be reprimanded for. You did the right thing then, Troy, making it stop before it got side-tracked. Though¡­ I do think I could throw this around as you causing this delay in the first place, making Adam look good in the greatest of lights. You wouldn''t mind looking back on paper, would you?" Dr Fidelis said, looking over to Troy with an innocent face filled with excitement. The doctor looked a decade younger than he likely was, as the man hyped himself up to work like crazy for the next forty minutes. The younger one could almost understand the enthusiasm created by being able to look at one¡¯s work in a positive light. What he couldn''t understand was that it was accompanied by the man forging documents to make it seem better than what it was. Was this whole conversation solely so the doctor could get Troy¡¯s permission? "As long as I don''t lose my job because of it, then you are free to write down whatever you want on those documents," Troy answered, not being bothered too much about getting criticism about him as an official paper. If anybody was to look him name up online, they would find more material on him than any firm would ever need. It was partly the reason that he had been thinking of getting his name changed. "Perfect!" Dr Fidelis exclaimed. The doctor moved away from the wall of text on the screen, hurriedly beginning to tap various places on it instead. There were no words being projected, making the young man wonder how Dr Fidelis was writing the document. It could possibly have been based on his brain-implant, where he was using his hands as a sort of guide, to make sure he was staying on track. "I have nothing else to stop you with. If you would be so kind as to follow Dr Hale, I expect both of you to be back at the normal time. And, just as a precaution, please let her control the departure time." How nice it was, to know that the doctor trusted him enough that he had to remind Troy to not trust himself, and follow Dr Hale completely with the schedule. There were not criticisms about that reminder in any way. Certainly, none that showed on his face. "Of course, sir. We will be back after dinner," Troy said, looking over at Dr Hale. The woman had already begun walking towards the exit, not a word of warning given. He did not mind that. The less talking inside the place, the better it was for their collective sanity. Following her, the young man began to relax a small bit, knowing he was out of that mouse-trap. He now had time to recollect himself, before he would have to hold his breath once more. "Oh!" Dr Fidelis suddenly exclaimed from behind the two, causing both to stop in their walk to freedom. "I forgot to ask one thing. Could you, word for word, say what Adam asked you? It would be perfect to have that." Troy didn''t know what to say, so he just uttered the first thing his mind could focus on. "''How did your father die?`" Dr Fidelis didn''t say anything after that. The door opened up, allowing them access to the hallway. The two simply walked out, beginning to head over to the cafeteria. The need for a break had increased immensely. Chapter 180: Afferentation
A man was not defined by how he was born, no matter how strongly people wished to argue for just that. People were not good from the second that the light could touch their skin. Nor were they evil. Those small creatures sat in the grey zone of life, likely to remain there for decades to come. That didn''t mean that kids could not do terrible things, actions which could be seen as being done by the devil himself. Children under the age of ten were perfectly able to perform acts of terrorism, murder, arson, torture, and day-light robbery. It was not as if nature stopped those actions by default or anything. Any human with a knife was more dangerous than one unarmed. Troy had seen many kids in that age-group holding an automatic rifle each. Those had been rusted over, impossible to use for anything but blunt weapons. Didn''t mean that those kiddos didn''t try to bluff as if they could have. Back in the old days, when Troy was still living with his mother, things had been¡­ hard. Not for himself. No, he had more than he should have had in that situation, their stamps bringing more than enough food on the table, and the rent having been paid for years to come. Those who lived close by did not have the same conditions on their hands. Most were without money, without food, the only thing stopping the owners from kicking the entire neighbourhood population out of the rented homes being laws put in place to stop homelessness. Each day that passed by just increased the debts of those that lived there. Shop-owners did not give a glance to those in debt. If a person had baggage attached, no job would want to hire them. If people had debt, it meant that they had something holding them down. And they certainly had, any cash earned instantly being taken away by those who had the quickest hands. People were not even allowed to beg for food, being given stern warnings if they even said so much as ''please`. Those people that lived next to Troy were likely to never grow from the place that they were. They weren''t allowed any real entertainment. That stuff costed money. Money which they weren''t allowed to have long enough for them to even notice they had it in the first place. There was no social mobility for anybody in that situation, nothing to make their days go by. The debt being accumulated was traded between those in power like regular cash, them knowing it would remain forever. Any children owned by the people would only end up in similar situations. Debt fell down the generations, as the old ones fell a few feet beneath the ground. The group that Troy had grown up with were forever doomed, made to suffer for the crimes of people that they would never meet. Was this fair, in any way whatsoever? These people didn''t ask to be born into a world where their parents were in debt, they didn''t make any humble requests about being shot down by any business possible, and they certainly didn''t consent to that torture that was called living. Suicide wasn''t a possible way to escape. They would just get revived soon enough, the medical bills being sent out soon after. Not having kids to take the burden after them wasn''t an option either. The debt collectors needed somebody to jab the finger at, and the law had that part sorted. There would always be a child by the adults'' side. Forced adoption, it could be called. Troy wasn''t doubting that people had found a more elegant name for it, one that nearly excused just how cruel it was. The system that surrounded them all was forcing this to happen, nothing ever defeating it. Troy¡¯s case was unique, his family being purged of all debts by pure chance. His father had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, yet people had seen it as an accident for an innocent man. The donations had certainly shut up his mother about telling anybody the truth. They had been allowed to live safely, but anybody else they knew didn''t have that comfort. Adults forced to be parents, deprived of any distractions other than a blank wall, and expected to be functioning members of a society that hated them. Was it so hard to figure out why they had all turned onto constant drug-abuse? They wanted out, wanted a dose so high that nothing could let them go back. They wanted insanity to hit them so that it could possibly let them live out a delusion less depressing than the one that they were in now. These people were treated like garbage, thrown around like garbage, and they acted like garbage because of it. Troy could remember hating every one of them, hating how they treated their so-called kids, and hating just how they grimaced every time they saw him. Trash had been thrown at him, words had been shouted, lies created on the spur of the moment. Each time he thought he had gained a new friend, he had been told by others his age that they weren''t allowed to be around him anymore. Finn had been the only one not to be told that by his parents. Though, that might have been because the two adults never got to realise that the little boy had been hanging around Troy, to begin with. That abduction hadn''t done anything to improve his perceptions of those people, their image only seeming worse because of it. As it turned out, with Finn being out of their lives, those, in particular, had been able to make a small profit through the years. They had been able to get themselves to pay off a massive amount of debt through their concentrated efforts, letting one of them hold a job for a few months. It had possibly been the happiest times in their lives, only ruined by some debt collectors getting wind of them having a stable source of income. They had been set in place quickly enough, two suicide attempts being more than enough to double their previous debt. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. These were what anybody would look down on. Even when he had been part of the community, Troy couldn''t help but feel as if some of those people were in there because it was their own fault. They had just not worked hard enough, of course. Their position in life was based fully on their own actions! ¡­ It really didn''t work. Nobody wanted it, but some still got it, born into a life that no person would ever want to have. Troy still remembered all those visits by the authorities, after the first large wave of newcomers had come around. It had been after new legislation came around, it being the result of some fancy numbers published. Keeping people in prison was apparently bad for the economy, and releasing them with monetary measures was far cheaper for the state. Those that had lived normal lives, only to end up in jail for a fault not their own, and to just be dumped inside a small house with a debt large enough to crush their necks had not taken it easy at all. It had been two full days before the first attempt was made, a surprisingly long time in the eye of a child. After the first had tried to lose a little blood, copy-cats began to spring up all around. Some tried to be a little creative, breaking their necks in some way, trying to instigate a fight, or just plain old trying to drink cleaning materials. Each was not close to fatal, whatever damage made being fixed within minutes. A station was even put on the street for a few weeks, just to make sure nobody was successful. The government had known what they were doing, understood how many lives they were running. And those bastards did it all with a smile on their face. The general population had not understood just what had happened when the prisons were emptied. The smiles on the prisoners had only been brief, only appearing on their faces before they understood that they were not actually being released fully. The bars keeping them in had just gotten a new name. The people that made up the average, the mass that consisted of nearly the entire working force, saw it all as something to be happy about, something that needed immediate celebration. That group were so deep into their own couches that they couldn''t understand how bad it was for others. Any objections made were slathered in criticism. How could outside life be worse than prison? It didn''t make sense. Freedom was better than anything else. Restriction of it was worse than death itself. The government was just that good when it came to making themselves look good. Authority had to look as positive as possible, and the people behind the facade were masters at keeping it up. They looked flawless, every step they took making flowers grow in the dirt. Birds would sing them welcome, the people would shout praises, and the business owners would distribute their wealth to the politicians at the top. Some said that the world ran on marbles. Troy thought that it was closer to corruption. The local representatives may have been without a flawed moral, but those that were further up the ladder had different circumstances. One could not climb this particular ladder. A politician could only be pulled up or they could be kicked off. The companies paid those on top to promote those that wanted to lessen restrictions on the businesses, and those with anything else were made to fill the missing bottom placements. Everything that mattered to them was the profit, how much money they could earn from it. There were no thoughts on the pain caused, on the lives that it would ruin. All that mattered was the monetary gain, and the abolishment of small prison-sentences was the most profitable thing that could be done. This led back to the original point. The adults left in the situation of debt, full of self-hatred, and wanting to escape their lives were not to be blamed for the lives they lived, for they could not do anything to ever escape it. They might have changed as people if they ever were bad, to begin with, but that would not change a single thing in their lives. Who was to blame for this inability to move on in life? There weren''t any names that Troy could drop, no people that he could point out, and definitively say made it all happen. The people behind it all were in the shadows, never having any reason to publicly announce themselves. It was only those that represented those people that could be seen, and that were the politicians who acted like they made the decisions. It was as deep as Troy could get with his pointing, the only legitimate target that his primitive mind could hone in on. It was the people in the authority that was to blame for all the terrible things, them encouraging a system that only made things worse for those at the bottom. It might have been a system that benefitted many, but why did a few have to be in constant pain to preserve it? There were better ways to structure a society. Better ways that those in the top had no interest for. They just took orders from those in the sky and acted like it was the greatest purpose in the world. Troy doubted that they really were blinded by their greed, being closer to them knowing exactly what they were doing, and just not caring about it at all. That way to look at the situation, just seeing the people as numbers on a piece of paper. Troy couldn''t understand how they could live with themselves, how they hadn''t had some first-hand experience with just how good medical services were. Since the time where he finally began to understand, his respect for any authority figure fell dramatically. Any of it made him clench his jaw, containing himself from what was clear abuse. People in power were not good, and they shouldn''t have been there, to begin with. It was not always the truth, but it was nearly law for those in the higher echelons. It had made keeping a job steady nearly impossible, yet the young man had not wanted to keep this mentality under the wraps. Living a lie for the sake of being successful was not anything anybody should have ever been forced to do. And there certainly wasn''t anything making Troy act so respectively now. It was his own choice, not wanting to fall back into the hell-hole that he shouldn''t have gotten out of. If he was out of a job for too long, his debt would grow too high, and he would go back to a house that would remind him of his childhood. "Walk faster. You are slowing down," Dr Hale commanded. "Of course, madam," Troy answered as he quickened his pace. They would reach the cafeteria soon. That was his choice, in the end. To follow the one who seemed to have figured more out than him. Chapter 181: Antiextortion
Troy could still vividly remember the event that had transpired during lunch. Anybody would have had a hard time forgetting that. Charlie had straight-out informed him that he had internal bleeding, after which he was apparently drugged out of his mind for some time. The perpetrator behind this injury was easily identified, not that anyone would need to ponder too long to figure it out. There was only one person that could have hit him in the stomach that day. Dr Hale, the woman that Troy now knew to never mess with. While she may have been double his age, she could punch harder than most could do in adrenaline-fueled rage. Her fist was likely what steroid users hoped to gain. Forgoing the amazing feat of strength that it had been, her actions were still extremely violent and had caused Troy extensive levels of pain, ranging from being forced to the ground to not being able to use the abdominal muscles in any way due to the spasms it would create. If not for the actions of Charlie, he would have continued being in this state of irritation, any sudden movements not being tolerated by his injuries. Any normal person would immediately look at such circumstances, and deduce that Dr Hale had been in the wrong for her actions. If the recordings were to be trusted, her only incentive for causing injury had been to make Troy quit working the job he had just gotten. It could have surely be handled another way. Put that in with the fact that she had apparently injured another person, and the case was beginning to look at her in a bad light. Charlie was a normal person, in some sense of the word. He was empathetic, he had a normal sense of justice, and he wanted people to feel better. The muscular man had seen a Troy sitting down at breakfast, trying not to moan in pain, minutes after getting to know of Dr Hale¡¯s previous attack. It was a miracle that he had not taken things into his own hands, that he had understood how little a chance he was of making the superiors look at it from his side. The youngest man in the room could relate to that, saddened that Charlie was not able to see what was actually going on. It certainly made the atmosphere tense, Troy¡¯s apparent attacker sitting on the other side of the table, looking peaceful as she ate the greens on her plate. Charlie was in a similar position, eating the well-built portion on his plate. Whenever the man saw the younger one looking over, a reassuring smile would be returned. No words though, and the grin didn''t reach anywhere else than the mouth. He was forcing himself for Troy¡¯s sake, and it felt so damned awful. Should he have been happy about what was going on, that another person was caring enough about him that they would hide their resentment for somebody else? Was Troy¡¯s comfort important enough to force two people to act like nothing was wrong? It may just have been Charlie put in that position, Dr Hale probably not caring much about it in the first place. Yet that made it all so much worse. If she actually was as awful as she looked, if Troy could fully hate her as much as he was supposed to, then he could possibly have accepted the current reality. He could have gone along with the game Charlie wanted to play, acting as if everything was right in the world even though it very clearly wasn''t. It was done out of well-intentioned kindness. A kindness that Troy in no way whatsoever deserved. He could not do anything to stop it, though. Any warning glances would be taken the wrong way. Asking Charlie to ignore it wouldn''t change anything. Distancing himself from the man to stop the acting would only make it so much worse. So, for the sake of not worsening the already terrible situation, the young man decided on looking at his food, doing his best to enjoy it to the last bite. If he finished it too quickly, he might even have the excuse of getting some more, not constantly being reassured from the side. ¡­ That is if he trusted the two to behave the moment he left. Charlie getting in some witty comment, Dr Hale answering neutrally, and the man counting his efforts up to make her talk while he was out of earshot. The man likely wanted a reason for the actions, and she would just as likely not give a single thing away. It might even just irritate her, making the answers less than constructive. Perhaps a shouting match would begin, fueled by irritation and protectiveness. Troy didn''t want that to happen. Awkward silences, hidden glares, and fake smiles could be dealt with. Seeing two friends break apart due to something that he was unwilling to do¡­ Troy did not want any part of it. It was a horrible thing, seeing that hint of animosity. Charlie was an understanding person. If he wasn''t, his moral code would have already been broken. Yet, could he look kindly upon another of his friends being beaten to the point where they were apologizing for the abuser¡¯s actions? If it was a just system, Dr Hale would have already been kicked out of the facility, doomed to spend a long time in a jail cell. She had assaulted two people. Instead, she was focusing on a particularly large bean, moving it around her plate with her fork. The woman looked as carefree as one could be. It was almost impossible to even grasp why she suddenly began to talk. "I really don''t get what you two are trying to do," Dr Hale said, not looking at either of the two sitting on the opposite side of the table. Only the words gave an indication that she even realised that they were there, yet the tone she spoke with implied just how she felt about doing it in the first place. The woman did not enjoy talking to them, her way of speaking being close to somebody saying the lines that the teacher had forced them to say after being caught cheating in a test. Troy knew that tone well himself, having been the one to use it a lot back when he was a little younger. "Is it fun sharing looks, as if you are two school girls having a little, secret chat?" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. As he usually did when criticized, Charlie laughed at her words. It didn''t come out right, the bursts of air sounding like they had been forced out, after being measured precisely. There was nothing natural about the action, it only being there as an introduction of just how the man felt. Even the smile was not as perfect as it had always been, it being more of a shadow than anything. He was trying, failing, and Troy wasn''t liking a second of it. His presence at the table was not the absolute deterrent it had been only moments earlier. He just wanted something to eat, somewhere he could rest before having to see Dr Fidelis again. "How ironic for you to say that, Mara," Charlie said, using words that were intended for a certain kind of effect. The man was not stupid. He could remember any requests made earlier. Troy didn''t think anything else of him. "You keep so many things close to your heart, yet you comment on us showing signs of communication that you cant spy on. Do you want the borders to be broken down, and for us all to talk freely? If so, I would be happy to indulge you in that wish." There was no glare of animosity from her. Dr Hale did not look ready to kill anybody, after being positively talked down on. She didn''t spit back words of contempt, losing her cool and revealing personal things nobody should have heard. No, she only sighed before continuing moving around her food, not eating much in the process. "Forget I asked," Dr Hale replied. Those three words were enough to tear a hole in Troy¡¯s chest. Only a few days ago, she would have made some comment about Charlie¡¯s sanity, idiocracy, taste, or something along the lines of being a plain awful thing to say. But this time was different. She had attempted to talk, before shutting the exchange down as quickly as she started it. The doctor gave up so easily, Troy was having doubt she was hoping for anything to come from her words truly. "Afraid I can not do that, Mara. You didn''t give me an answer, and I kinda need that to understand how you are feeling," Charlie said, egging the woman on. He was acting somewhat like a jerk. Anybody could see that. Truly, he just wanted some communication to sprout out from the meta-physical wall between them. Troy could see that, plain as day. The man wanted to understand why she had done what she did. They were friends in the end. Through their many years together, some trust should have been created. Rumours wouldn''t have done much to tamper with that, but a physical injury that was clear as day needed some explanation to him. "No," Dr Hale answered in response to the man¡¯s refusal. "I do not want to discuss such matters. It is preferable if we are to prepare ourselves for our work. Please, continue eating your food in silence, so that humanity will get something useful out of you." Charlie snorted. He had gotten the desired answer and did not look like he had anything more to fire back with. Troy saw the kind smile go back on his face, as he looked at Troy, as if the short conversation was just an inside joke between some friends, before going back to his food. Did the man expect that he couldn''t see the smile fading away the second that the eyes weren''t on the young man? Likely not, but it could have been that there was just too much on his mind to realise it. Even if he had been shot down once, the muscular man still seemed set on getting an answer out of Dr Hale, even if she did not want to. It took a few seconds of silent eating, but the man seemed to find some gear in his head that allowed him to talk after he would normally stop. Everybody had a limit on how much they could tolerate, and Charlie had seemingly restrained himself to work within these boundaries. It worked perfectly in normal situations, but for those times where the opposite reaction was desired, it was more of just a hindrance than anything. "Sounds good. We have to hurry if we want to eat up before we have to leave," Troy said, giving Charlie a look which tried to convey how much the man needed to keep quiet. Nothing he could possibly say would make the situation any better. Keeping quiet would be best for everybody. Troy had already come to that realisation for himself. Letting the muscular man in on that secret as well was not too bad an idea. "I have plenty of time, honestly. It''s a perk of being in control of my own work schedule. You should see if something like that in the future. It really is a good thing for both your physical and mental health, not being restricted by the orders of somebody who clearly doesn''t understand what kind of situation they are in," Charlie said, head already turned by the second sentence. He might have been talking at Troy, but the message was clear for somebody else that was within earshot. With calm and precise movements, Dr Hale put down her fork. She was not hasty in her actions, taking a moment to make sure it was unmoving on the table, before looking up at the man who had grown stoic in his expression. Charlie had grown serious, as the attention needed to be had been gotten was finally catched. "Are you expecting me to defend myself?" Dr Hale politely asked, looking the man directly in his eyes, no hesitation in her look. She had been prepared for the confrontation since the start, and everybody knew what would be happening. Troy only hoped they could hold themselves down, to not gain unwanted attention. Though, that ship had likely sailed already. People were quieting down around them. Somehow, everybody already knew what was going on. They had been lying in wait, anticipating some form of response to occur in due time. People were excited to see what would happen, Troy glimpsing an exchange of credits not that far away. "Not really. You already know what you did. I know you, Mara. You understand perfectly what you have done. What excuse did you tell yourself, to make it seem as if you were in the right?" Charlie asked. "It''s better than the alternative choice of doing nothing at all," Dr Hale answered. Troy couldn''t help but press his fingers against the table, an action which caused a glare to come his way. "And what alternative would that be? Is it so hard to resolve differences in some way that''s not causing potentially fatal internal bleeding? Mara, the kid was just going to tough it up. He could have died because of you, for fucks sake. Doesn''t that mean anything to you?" "I know you well enough to know that you wouldn''t have let him die. As predicted, you intervened before-" "There shouldn''t have been a reason for me to intervene in the first place!" Charlie nearly shouted, cutting off whatever Dr Hale wanted to say. Whoever had decided not to look at the spectacle had now been forced to listen in. That shout, loud as it was, had the power to make most stop breathing for a few moments, making the space inside the cafeteria truly without sound. What was Dr Hale¡¯s response to this? It was a casual glance at the watch on the wall, before getting up with a sigh. "Troy, move it. We have tests to complete." Charlie didn''t stop the younger one from getting up. While the muscular man clearly wanted to, doing so would incur the wrath of those in high positions. Needless violence was fine, as long as it didn''t stop work from being done. A perfect world indeed. Chapter 182: Projection
Denial was the greatest resource that the brain could ever muster. The emotion could be used to fill the emptiness up in so many facets. Many took it as something only felt in willful ignorance, yet it was so much more than that. Keeping an important topic out of the thoughts was one such use. It helped keep secrets that needed to be kept, making the subject be used so little that the brain had to keep it in deep storage, only specific stimuli ever having the chance of ripping it free of its frozen form. Keeping the thought away from the forefront was not easy. In any normal scenario, where something related to it had just happened, Troy would have been forced to keep thinking about it, making it possible to accidentally reveal details best-kept secret. That was not close to falling now, denial helping him along the path of not even visualising the damage that had been created by two wonderful people. It might have been an over-exaggeration, but Troy was sure that something bad had occurred between Dr Hale and Charlie. The man had shouted at her, not for the sake of a joke but to show off how absolutely flared up he was about her not caring about the consequences of her actions. He had wanted something out of her, anything that would give him a clue on just what she thought she was doing. She had caused damage which could have apparently killed him and had not made the slightest mention of that fact. Troy could have died. He could have gone to bed that afternoon and have found himself not waking up in the morning. His body would have shut down, nobody realising it until it was too late. Maybe the doctor would have shown off how well he monitored him and saved the dying man before the end. Probably not, as that would have caused the potential for a whole assault of questions. Keeping a national secret was more important than keeping a civilian alive. That was all he was in the end. Some civilians, caught up in a cluster of issues that he shouldn''t have had any part of. From the moment he had entered the facility, things had just started going wrong. Charlie and Dr Hale had been friends for over a decade. They had likely gotten drunk together while Troy was still trying to eat the snot coming out of his nose. Compared to them, he was just a child. A child expected to keep himself together, as the world began to fall away from the rules it was supposed to stand by. The government was corrupt, sure, but it was supposed to stay in the shadows with its manipulation. He wasn''t supposed to see it in real-time, observing as Dr Fidelis trained Adam to become something that he couldn''t yet understand. Dr Hale had yet to say anything at all, not for a lack of desire to. Troy still had to acquire the device from a now agitated Charlie. The muscular man was clearly not in the most positive of moods when the two had left the cafeteria. It had gotten to the point where people had gone back to looking at their own tables, not seeming as if they were picking a fight or anything. Was the earlier planned meeting even on anymore? He and Troy were supposed to meet up for some fitness after work. Did Charlie even want to do that? Troy was supposed to back him up when he had asked her those questions, why she had thought it fair to do such things. Even now, it was clear that there had been other ways to deceive the doctor than to cause such damage. ''Charlie would surely fix it.` What kind of excuse was that? Hoping for a person to act according to how one predicted, with the risks being that a man would die for nothing. How could anybody ever have taken those odds, when there were so many other possibilities to have from? Those kinds of questions had been in plenty. So many would have worked perfectly in the earlier situation. Troy had some on his tongue the moment Charlie had started shouting, ready to jab in if the opportunity allowed for it. Not that it would have, the circumstances being that the man had caused privacy had been created to start with. Wait¡­ Thinking back to a few days ago, the muscular man had certainly used such a device. It had been when Troy had caused a smaller¡­ emotional outburst. The fault of who had caused such a thing did not matter much. What the man was so focused on was what had prevented this outburst from being witnessed by everybody in the room. The machine that could deflect metal, plastic, or just about anything that it was thrown at it. ''Bender` was its name, taken from a place that few in the current age would understand. Troy didn''t really get it himself but had been told as much by the creator. It was more the secondary function that was important, though. Instead of creating a barrier around itself, one that was capable of deflecting objects, it could create a larger buried, expansive enough to cover a whole table. It stopped the sound from coming in or out and obscured the light as well in a way that everything became cloudy. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Would it be so hard to imagine that this was the device being looked for? Knowing Charlie, there were more than a few secret mechanisms present within the thing. That it could stop any listening in as well¡­ that wasn''t a hard thing to think about. Armed with this knowledge, Troy actually felt a little more upbeat, knowing that he had a decent grasp on just what he was looking for. If the man did show up to train, it would most definitely be asked about. "Is there anything you would like to say about the earlier shouting match?" Dr Hale calmly inquired about, breaking a silence that had been desired to be kept. Troy would certainly have been perfectly fine with no words being spoken at all. "Not anything in particular," Troy answered, not being honest as a change of pace. There were loads of things he wanted to know more about. "Thanks for just walking away from it." There had been no real time-constraint on Dr Hale, during the final words of the fight. She had faked there need to leave, as a way to discourage further discourse. A brilliant move, honestly. If not for it, Charlie would have likely continued his verbal interrogation, moving forward with gaining nothing from it at all. The lack of response would have done nothing good for anybody, making the lie to get out so much better. "We have a schedule to keep up with. Stopping a conversation to stay clear of any delays is to be expected in this kind of facility. You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking anything else," Dr Hale said, mildly berating him for his faults, as was needed to play her role. While the tactical retreat had been well-hidden, Troy did not dare think that Charlie had not catched on. That man knew a lot when it came to those he travelled with. As he was with a so-called free work-time, he could choose to dine at whatever time he damn well pleased. Instead, he had memorized the times Troy and Dr Hale would be there, just so he could be together with them a few minutes every couple of hours. They had clearly left much earlier than needed, with a factor of them being nearly ten minutes earlier than intended. "Of course. I will be sure to correct my thinking in the future," Troy promised, thinking that the conversation would end at that point. Dr Hale had other ideas, though. "It would be best if you rectified this mistake in the present. You have the opportunity to not have to think too much forward in time, after all. This is one of the two pieces of advice which you should hear. The second would be to make the best of your time with who you know. Your remaining days here can be counted on two hands. It would be best for all if you got matters in order with Charlie. If drastic actions are required to do this, then so be it. The faster we see the end of it, the better it will be for everybody involved." The conversation officially ended at that point. Troy was perfectly fine with that, dreading what else could have been said if it was left to its own ideas. That woman had given him advice he himself already knew. Yet, hearing it from her mouth set it all in stone so much more. He had to get the device from Charlie at his earliest convenience. The next time he met the man would be the time where he would get it. There was a chance that Dr Hale had expected Troy to have already acquired it. She had not been present for lunch, after all, allowing the two to indulge in whatever fancies they had. Was she perhaps disappointed, that Troy had not spent his time well enough? It had been a prime chance, back when he had been in Charlie¡¯s personal laboratory. If he had taken it back then, he could have done so much better by the current time. Dr Hale would have excused them both too early, but for reasons that would be more than just beneficial. Instead, they were taking a longer than a necessary path, for the sole reason being that they did not want to end up at the testing room before they were expected. Being early was just as bad as being late. Troy would have taken lateness as a larger evil, but the doctor apparently had a more¡­ equal perspective of it. The timing was everything, and the divergent was never to be allowed into the system. With quick steps, they reached the test room at the intended time, neither looking worse for wear. Troy was trying to make himself ready for another three hours of being anxious, while Dr Hale was looking to be practising making her face into stone. If the man touched her features, he would not have been surprised if the texture had adjusted to the look as well. "Keep yourself composed, don''t act rashly, and be respectful to the people in this facility. With that, you might just allow yourself to resign of your accord," Dr Hale said with a finality, as she began putting in the numbers. It took less than ten seconds before the door opened. Dr Fidelis stood at the entrance, far enough away to let them in, but still stopping them from getting too far. As the door was on a timer, both entered as far as they could, before stopping up in sync. "Is there any reason for your current behaviour, sir?" Dr Hale asked the doctor, who was not looking too happy himself. In fact, Dr Fidelis did not have his usual glow of happiness, nor was there any particular layer of excitement around him. It was more akin to being apologetic. "Yes, I''m afraid there," Dr Fidelis answered, not sounding incredibly happy saying anything himself. "Troy, do you remember what we talked about during our last sit-down? It was when we discussed what Adam was currently working on." Things weren''t looking good, and there was serious doubt it would get any better. "Yeah, I remember it well enough. Adam is working on making a more realistic body. You talked about allowing him another day to make this a reality," Troy answered, making sure he got his facts straight about it. "Good to hear, then. I won''t have to explain it too much after all," Dr Fidelis replied. "You, Troy, are free to go wherever you please for the rest of the day. I talked to Adam about it, and he proposed that he just works all night long on making the body. It would allow him to streamline the process through the elimination of breaks, and make it possible for me to keep to the schedule we have with the tests. As having the interface doesn''t technically require you to be there, we can work without a human body to have as a source. We¡¯ll just save the showing off to a later date. So¡­ you are free to go do whatever you want now. Dr Hale, I hope you have ample caffeine in your bloodstream, for we will be making notes throughout the entire thing." ¡­ Troy wasn''t sure how to take it. Then again, there weren''t a lot of things he was able to take nowadays. Chapter 183: Antipredation
To Adam, one of the most defining characteristics of a human was their voice. Voices were virtually unique, as they were changed by nearly every single thing in the body. Everything could change how it came out, and seeing how no two people were truly identical, there was not a single voice with the same tones. Some humans might have been confused about such a fact. One could certainly hear two people¡¯s voices and think they sounded exactly the same. The AI would not have been surprised if most had experienced such epiphanies before. Could it be that there were a limited amount of voices in the world? Of course, there was. The universe didn''t work well with the concept of infinity, and sure as well wasn''t going to start doing it with voices. Humans might have been powerful entities, but even they had limits in just how different from each other they could be. It was still fun to think about the variety of human voices. They might not have been as boundless as some wanted to believe, but that didn''t mean that they were without the potential of being varied. That was something the humans would never truly be able to understand. A voice was created not by just a single tone. If it was that simple, every person would have clearly been able to hear their own voice in the mouths of others on a daily basis. No, a voice was based on a fundamental tone of sorts, which would then get a whole batch of upper harmonics attached to it. There was never just a single tone, that allowed a person to distinguish what frequency somebody else was speaking in. It wasn''t that easy. When a human heard a voice, they didn''t hear this jumble of fundamental tones with the upper harmonics on the top of it. At least, that had never been written down anywhere Adam could read about it. Their brains heard it all as one single thing, all bundled up and swindled off as anything but a multiple. And it made all kinds of noises because of it. Human minds interpreted the sound as something that it actually wasn''t. It took in some frequencies, trying its best understand it all, and then finally sending it through as one final product. This didn''t make much sense to Adam, making him very happy that there was a whole field of science dedicated to studying this phenomenon. He had touched on the subject briefly before, theorizing that his own interpretation of sensations was different from what Troy himself experienced. This had first shown itself as Adam being possibly colourblind, not being able to see a certain colour that didn''t truly exist anywhere but the human mind. They called it magenta. The AI called it fake. Psychoacoustics put it in the way that the mind was unable to truly understand what sensation it was receiving when it heard voices. It was never really able to determine many specifics when it came to something more complex than simple tones. This caused the mind to just¡­ make things up as it went. Just like when the funny bone was hit on the elbow, the brain just had to send something back because it didn''t really understand what was going on. This was the source of many things that never really were present, one of those sounds being the so-called angelic voice that came forth when many humans sang together in higher pitches. It didn''t exist, but that did not stop the mind in any way. This approach was certainly an interesting one. It created diversity, chaos, and unpredictability in what those pesky primitives really had going on in their minds. If what Adam was hearing from Troy talking wasn''t the same as what Dr Fidelis was hearing, was anybody certain that there was a standard, to begin with? Brain chemistry was something that had been dabbled with for many centuries. The experiments might have started out as people cutting out a chunk and seeing what would happen, but the science behind it had gotten more advanced here in the future. People used scalpels now, created to not leave any nasty diseases behind. Just as a voice could be influenced by its surroundings, so could a brain be changed permanently from what is perceived. Its core-trait was plasticity after all, easily able to be changed and moulded to whatever was needed. Did a small child need to learn how to ride a bike? The connections for balance, hand-eye coordination, and muscle-memory-adaption are more than happy to be strengthened. Any action performed, any piece of knowledge learned, any emotion felt, and any sensation helped foster the development of the brain, making it into something wholly unique. Was it so hard to entertain the idea of the outcome not being the same? If the brain was changed by one¡¯s experience, and every experience was non-repeatable, would the product produced not change as well? How sure could any human be that they called the same thing red? Verbal discourse worked on both parties understanding the language. If one person''s red looked like others blue, there would never be any conclusive way to know because both called that colour green. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Maybe it was possible for an infinite number of voices. If humans ever were to find out how to travel dimensions, time would never end for the race. They would live on for all eternity, continuing to talk just as much. Their genes would evolve, never letting them have the same brain chemistry again. Every person would hear a voice differently, with no potential imitation of an earlier heard one. In such a scenario, there really would be potential for infinity, starting with the voices of those who dared to break natural law. If you took away the part where personal interpretation helped modify the results, though, it was right back to be a finite amount. One could argue that all dimensions were not governed by the rules in the one Adam currently existed in, but the AI could also argue back that some people needed to keep quiet about some things in their sad, pitiful lives. One could additionally make the argument that even if there existed a universe where the rules were changed, humans would not be able to survive such a change. From what Adam could tell, he was not hampered by the human¡¯s mind needing to simplify voices to a disturbing extent. He could perfectly hear how a voice was built up, the small intricacies put out to give it the needed uniqueness. If given enough time, the AI would be able to dissect the voice, see just what laid at its core. He didn''t do this often, not really having much of a purpose for it. Adam mostly used it when he heard the voice of a new person. There, he analysed just what set the tones apart from those heard before, so that he could identify the signs within a heartbeat. Yet the fact was that he still could. Whatever small detail had caused the need for changing the input in such a drastic way just¡­ didn''t exist in Adam. He would never be able to see how humans experienced the world because he did not possess the same flaw. Or, maybe he did possess a similar flaw, but a lesser version of it where it still changed it in some way. He would likely never truly know, really. There wasn''t much in the way of making him know of it. Almost the entirety of his speculation had been made from original ideas to start with. Dr Fidelis had not believed the intricacies of human acoustics to be important. Adam could really understand such a belief, as he believed the subject to be absolutely fascinating. It would explain so many things, of how people enjoyed different colours more than others, how there were some sounds they oh so despised. It might just be that some were not physically able to hear them, or that people all liked the same colour in the end even if they called it different things. With the possibility of infinity, the non-changes of voice, and the uniqueness of its formation would have been enough to make the AI grow curious. But there was one extra facet which really did make Adam grow attentive. A person was not limited to one voice. A body could produce more than a single tone, a single way to show off emotion. There were so many voices to go around with, that Adam wasn''t sure that all could be feasibly counted. They were all so much alike, yet the minute differences made them seem all so different. A moment of hesitation, a deepening at the end, and a swift shift made changed the layout so much that one could not compare the product to what it was before. It gave it a level of complexity that could be drowned in. It was also what made the subject so good to go back to, as the mental power required to truly process every last detail of a voice took oh so much out of him. Adam could not hope to analyse more than a second of a single voice every decisecond. It might not have sounded slow at all, until it was compared to the normal speeds when the AI went all out with the threads. The process of going through earlier conversations never went unrewarded. It could be shortly explained as Adam being able to see one more decimal more, getting just a small bit more detail from the analysis. Every look-through gave him more experience to use, granting the AI a nearly fool-proof process of self-refinement. It did have diminishing returns if used on the same voices over and over again, but that was where the new conversation came into use. Troy always came in handy with that, being the person heard most from, only Charlie coming in a close second. That muscular man could talk when he desired, and the man never seemed to be free of such an emotion. It was as if he actually regained energy by being social with other beings, a direct contrast to the already set up thesis about alone-time. From observations of Troy, the man who Adam knew the most about, sociality seemed to tire the man out if in large enough quantities. It wasn''t meant in the way that the young man seemed uncomfortable in such situations, but that they caused mental fatigue if experienced for longer periods. The AI had been in the works of putting up a formula detailing just how long it would take for a breaking point in the human psyche. If it required mental energy for a human to be social, there had to be a point where it hit zero. As the expenditure was closer to logarithmic, it was not just an infinite amount of time needed to reach that midpoint, and Adam had been so close to finishing his final touches on it, making sure that the numbers were in check. He had even planned so many social events designed to bring the man to predicted levels of tiredness. It would have been glorious. Then Charlie had to come along and show an inversion to the prototyped theory. The man seemed to only get better and better, the longer he remained around a larger group of people. It was fascinating, seeing the man apparently losing fatigue gained while alone. It was also absolutely infuriating for Adam. How could the opposite exist as well? What switch was pulled to make such a thing happen? Was it genetic, that the reaction to others was inverted so radically? And, most important of all, would the AI¡¯s formula work with both persona¡¯s? That surely just was impossible to test out, as it would require continued observation of both parties. And since Adam was still looked at as some entity for both of the testers, the results be truly usable for Charlie. Even if the AI was able to convince the man of wearing the earpiece while alone for a longer amount of time, the man would still see man as somebody who he could talk to, and one that he was acting in the presence of. It would effectively ruin any manner of a sterile setting. The fix for that would be to use archaic recording equipment instead of the earpiece. Yet that would cause the problem of Adam not accurately being able to determine the data received from it. Well¡­ he could always learn it. Data translation was one of his strong points after all. ''Adam. I have good news! Troy is an absolute genius!` That wasn''t something the AI expected to hear. Chapter 184: Antralization
Adam was not one to sing praises too often. That had already been established as a part of his personality, him favouring efficiency more than wasted words. During a down-time, there was leeway to spend a millisecond sending a message, but this opportunity was never really used to its fullest. There was no need for it. The only moments where such an opportunity would be present was when there was no communication possible at all, and since praise was only ever pointed towards Troy, this made the conditions impossible to fulfil. One could always say that Adam could commend Dr Fidelis for his hard work done. The doctor would likely express similar gratitude to such words. Yet, saying such things to the man that created him felt lifeless. It would be something of an insult, really, to have a machine that a person created to be used to simply praise the creator. Maybe his thinking was flawed, but the AI had yet to find a solid argument for it. He did not mind what he currently believed. He had logic behind it after all. What was much more interesting in the current was the new link that had been used in the chain. Dr Fidelis did praise Adam, as was expected to do for his own creation. Adam did not praise Dr Fidelis, for that was not his place to do so. The AI did still praise Troy, though, as they stood on the equal ground according to his judgement of the outside social laws. And, the young man did say some kind words back whenever he felt like it. What made this interesting was the missing chain, the bond that put together two names. How did the dynamic work between the young man and the doctor? Was Troy allowed to commend Dr FIdelis for his hard work, or was it seen as disrespectful? Adam wasn''t fully sure about that, but he now knew how it worked the other way around. And it was apparently well within reason to overstate the praise, raising it to the levels of near-fiction. According to the doctor¡¯s words, Troy was hereby an absolute genius. The difference between a regular genius and an absolute genius was still not understood, but Adam was sure there had to be some kind of difference. ''If I may ask, what has warranted this change in perspective?` Adam sent back as a response to the man¡¯s words. The doctor had always described Troy as something akin to a fine, young man, never breaching the topic of his intelligence. The AI had taken to this as the doctor thinking the younger one a possible dullard, but that might just have been an overestimation as well. Truthfully, there had not been an expectation for the man to continue talking about Troy at all. Using the young person as a conversation starter had begun growing staler and staler as of late. Adam had begun expecting that Dr Fidelis used it as an attention grabber. If that was true, then kudos to the doctor for being smart about it, but it was still annoying either way. It took away the possibility for Adam to predict what the doctor would say, but making the end-result predictable to a point where next to no analysis was needed to start with. Was variety in thought patterns such a hard thing to achieve? It''s not like the human mind was based on a system of active repetition, where it tried to make itself believe that the small changes made all the difference¡­ On second thought, Adam was possibly asking for too much. Each had their own faults, and the human mind had more than could be reasonably counted. ''Fret not, my dear buddy. I could not understand Troy¡¯s magnificent words to start with either. I had to dig deep, really try to grasp what that man was saying before I could finally understand what he meant with the movements of his tongue,` Dr Fidelis sent. Sarcasm was a hard thing to understand when in a text-based format, and Adam was fully unsure if the doctor was joking or not. Could it be one of those pranks that were supposed to be common in work-spaces? It was important enough to put in the pre-known knowledge, so it was clearly dear to the doctor. More information was needed. ''Could you explain what this brilliant idea was? If it is so grandiose, I see no reason for me to not know of it immediately,`, Adam replied, trying to hurry it along. He wanted, needed to know. What words could make the doctor fall into this state of praise? Was it a revolutionary new method of breathing, a way to courteously communicate while holding others tasks to regular levels of speed, or was it perhaps a way to permanently forgo bodily needs? With the words used, it had to be in those levels. Could it be that the young man had experienced much in the scientific fields not yet encountered while he had worn the earpiece? Troy had seemed oddly fascinated with biological manipulation. ''Your good friend proposed a revolutionary new way for you to hone your skills when it came to creating the perfect replication of a human body! From your speed and how detailed you want it to be, I determined it would take more hours than we had at our disposal today. I originally wanted to add a day to the time you had for working out the details of the interface, but Troy had a much more time-effective proposal to add. Why did I restrict your time with the interface to the time that Troy could spend sitting on a bench, not doing anything productive? The constraint experienced is by the time that we can legally let the young man be tested. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. You have no such issues attached, seeing as there is no official documentation published about your existence. So, Troy proposed that he just needed to get taken out of the equation, which would let you have as much time with the interface as you pleased. By my calculations, this action would allow you an additional eight hours for the next test. It would also constrain you from creating it in the puzzle room, but I am sure that it would go unneeded. It took some time for me to really understand just how brilliant this was, but I''m sure it would take you no time to reach the same conclusion as me. So, do you want to start immediately, or should we wait five minutes so we can save my assistant from additional paperwork? I am fine with either.` ¡­ It was not what Adam had been expecting, honestly. He wouldn''t describe it as underwhelming, the statement by the doctor going more along lines of an unexpected direction. Instead of being revolutionary, it was more of an already-thought-of alternative. An alternative which shouldn''t have been possible, due to the nature of the testing. Yet, in the very unique circumstances, it was fully possible to do. The interface was not something that could only be interacted with through TRoy. In fact, Adam and Dr Fidelis were the only two with the power to even see the thing. If the young man was to be taken out of the equation, there truly would be no lasting harm. There wasn''t any reason for the human copy to be created in the puzzle room. The AI had already gotten feedback on the prototype from Troy. And, if he wanted more at a later time, he could always just ask the doctor, who Adam was guessing would be overlooking through the entire process. In some twisted way of thinking, it really was a brilliant move. Even Adam had not thought of the possibility. He had gotten so accustomed to Troy needing to be there, that he had not even started to imagine a world without him. Was that a flaw in his mental state or just a product of him being accustomed to being constrained in his movements? The interface was really just a breath of fresh air, the first truly independent part of the tests. Troy had seen this and had given Adam the space required for this to be realised. Looking at it from the perspective of a guide, it really was a perfect decision. It would allow the AI to experience a new form of testing, with him being the only one tested, while still allowing him to work on the product he had formerly done in the process of another mind. With those two experiences, he would be able to analyse himself, and further improve his work-method, seeing what worked best in each scenario. From the standpoint of improving the test efficiency, Troy could not have done anything better than what he had. If he could talk with the young man himself, Adam would have likely said words similar to what the doctor proclaimed as well. But, therein laid the trap itself. The AI couldn''t talk to him. There was quite literally no way to speak with him, no way to communicate the praises that were desired to be said. There wasn''t any way to say anything else either. Without the one earpiece used during testing, there was no way for them to talk. Theoretically, there was still the second earpiece used during outside-hours, but Adam was truly doubting that the man was still in the possession of that device. And if did, there were few ideas about him using it for the time being. Troy was avoiding him. He was avoiding answering his questions. Adam wanted to know if he was jealous at any point in time. He wanted an yes or no to that. By the current time-line, it was looking to be swaying towards a clear yes, even if the man had never opened his mouth with the intention of saying that. Why he had never just confirmed the suspicions, the AI was not sure. Everything would be a little easier if that single syllable was said. It required nought but a flick of the tongue and both would be on their merry way to fixing whatever caused it. Fixing it. Not berating him for having that emotion, but helping him move past it as fluidly as possible. Humans having emotions was natural. They felt happy, they felt sad. They could grow proud of others achieving great things, but could similarly grow angry at themselves for not being able to do the same. This caused jealousy. Anger at oneself for not being good enough. Adam could understand such an emotion, not feeling good enough to what he needed to be, as if he was some kind of impostor, just acting like he was good enough to have the privilege of living. What could be gained from being angry at Troy? Nothing. It would just bring more tension to what was already there. Being understanding, talking it out, and helping to mould it into something better was the better thing to do. Jealousy was never a good thing to let fester. Best it be scraped off as clearly and effectively as possible before it''s given enough time to become something worse. Adam had already put in plans, arguments, and possible routes to take during the test. He would not let Troy press down the conversation again, taking it seriously enough that he would even bring Dr Fidelis in on the topic. They needed to talk, and the young man was impeding it from happening. The advice to give the AI more time to work for himself showed that the young man was not pulling any punches when it came to delaying that conversation from appearing. If Adam got the chance to talk with him, then he would immediately go in for the hit. Troy had apparently predicted such an action and had made way to distance himself even more than before. That wasn''t good at all, the AI having doubts it would be better after another day of letting the jealousy stay around. ''It is a smart move indeed. Is Troy around you right now perhaps? I would not mind letting him know of his brilliance personally.` ''Ah, no. When he told me of his idea, I just let him leave immediately. I know you well enough to predict that you would have thoughts similar to mine about it, so I just spared myself the time. Do you want me to make Dr Hale chase him down? She could relay your words quickly enough to him if you don''t want to wait until tomorrow.` There the doctor was, just trying to be as helpful as he could, not knowing that he was impeding the underlying goals that Adam already had in place. Like before, there really was no point to be angry about it, the doctor already doing his best. ''No, that''s alright. And you can just start up the interface whenever you please.` Adam would be distracting himself with perfecting a body that he would likely never show off. Chapter 185: Appersonation
Was Troy being phased out of his job? Looking at the big picture, there was a good chance of it. There hadn''t been any change in the three last tests, yet it was only the last one where he was allowed to just¡­ not be there. They did not need him in any capacity, and having him be present did nothing but impede the actual work. Which was fair. Quite honestly, the young man had done little else but sit on a bench, and try to distract himself from imminent death by boredom. While there were some positions dedicated to self-mutilation, Troy was not sure that any with the mental kind being so focused on. The human mind being pushed to the brink of insanity might have had some potential in the research avenue, but the onslaught he felt was not on that level by any stretch. It was annoying, sure, but not enough to break any of the conventions set in place. Maybe, if he was a foreign dignitary, there could have been some repercussions, but he wasn''t in a position high enough for that. Being bored, not doing anything, and just working as a silent talker was not something anybody wanted to pay for. Troy had no reason to be around, when all Adam did could be done within himself. Before, everything had been contained inside the puzzle room, where the young man would put in all the data that Adam wanted. It was not the most advanced level of work for the mind, but it was more than enough to keep up with. It was a task that Troy needed to do because Adam would not be able to manipulate the physical world. He was the semi-automatic arm, only to move when Adam wanted it to. That wasn''t needed anymore. In the two tests done, there had not been a single thing pressed, thrown, or otherwise interacted with. Anything really done had been for the comfort of Troy, more often than not just him pestering Adamd into making someplace where he could sit comfortably. Did such things need to exist in a scenario based on testing certain things? To Troy, he could not find anywhere to place it. The young man was slowly becoming unneeded. Were those panels in the puzzle room not made so that Adam would have some way to answer? If so, why had Dr Fidelis added another layer of hardship by making the controller into something physical, instead of just letting the AI answer into an interface directly? It was almost as if it had been created in such an overcomplicated way originally, as a way to encourage Troy¡¯s participation in the test. Maybe that had only really been needed in the first series of tests. Maybe he was being slowly pushed away from any responsibilities so there would be no losses when he was finally removed fully from the project. ¡­ And, maybe he was just overthinking it all, trying to make it into a massive conspiracy, ranging from Dr Fidelis knowing exactly what Dr Hale was up to to the moon landing being faked by Adam with the help of a time vortex. There were a few things that could stop the brain from drawing unwarranted connections when there was enough desperation to foster it. That deranged way of thinking was what had allowed him to survive bouts of boredom before, and it would be what would save him yet again. As Troy had been let off several hours earlier than expected, he would be having his ultimate exercise of patience, staying in his room for just as long as the test would regularly go on. There was not much else to do, really. He had accepted the plan to head to the gym with Charlie while having the idea that it would be much later in the afternoon before he would be free. Knowing how that muscular man functioned mentally, there was little chance he would be around at his work-place at the current hour. There was nobody to talk to there, after all, letting the man have little point to stay in such a place. Charlie had talked reminiscently about his work-ethic, not doing more than what was expected of him. Troy could somewhat understand that idea, now more than ever. Life was not always about becoming better and better, refining one¡¯s skills to the point where one could be called a master at their craft. Few really had any idea of what that craft would even be. Maybe it was that expectation of everything being figured out by a young age that made so many people hesitate to ever even start on anything as their main trait. Not something to do because it would bring the fortune, but something that would bring them happiness. It was a hard thing to come by. An action that required thought, precision, and experience to ever truly master, something deep which matched with one¡¯s overall personality. It had to be something that brought some kind of positivity to one¡¯s life. It didn''t really need to be direct happiness of the product. Perhaps one could enjoy the satisfaction of others using it. Troy could still remember the small breadboards that a few of the neighbourhood kids got their hands on. With the help of a few stolen motors, a circuit board, and a small solar panel, they had successfully put together a small toy car. It had been too complicated to make and had been anything but a fun experience, but the happiness that the smaller ones had shown when playing around with it had made it more than worth it. Made it all the more devastating, when the car had been sold off so that one of the adults got a little pocket change. Troy never did find the needed parts again, the idea to scavenge them for possible money having been taken from his act of goodwill. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. He had worked hard to create that bit of happiness for those kids. The young man had done his best with the resources he had at hand, to create a toy he would never gain anything with. He developed skills that could be used for nearly nothing. Would Troy have chosen that path in life, if he had been given the chance? Would he have created toys so others could feel happy? Probably not, honestly. However much he liked to criticized the expectation of having everything figured out from a young age, how much pressure was put on those young, immature brains, Troy had figured out his entire life by the age of ten. He had predicted himself to be a scholar of language! ¡­ It sounded a little sad when said like that. The young man had felt an interest in those fancy sounds that people put out of their mouths on a daily basis. What made those sounds become words, how did people suddenly decide that a table would be called a table? Was it always called a table? If not, how did it change over time? Those fancy language tree diagrams were something Troy was able to look over constantly when he was a bit younger. He would manually attempt to track a word over the ages, trying to figure out its older counterparts. It mostly turned out to have Latin or Greek roots, but who cared about such superficial points? It became much more fun when one attempted to go back further than that. Whenever he had the chance, a book about some dead language would be opened up. Akkadian would forever have a special place in his heart. People didn''t always know what they wanted to be when they grew up. Some never really figure it out, just going with whatever recommendations they got from those around them. That feeling of not knowing what to do with oneself never really manifested within Troy. He had dreamt of being a scholar, and damn well was he going to do it. The education system did not mind people succumbing to job instability and had easily allowed Troy to fulfil his dream of educating himself in a language. During those last few years of education, the young man had thought himself to finally be achieving his life-long dream, and becoming the scholar of the past that he always wanted to be. That idea had quickly evaporated when he learned of the so-called requirements for joining the job market. To get an entry-level job, there was a minimum of ten years in the business and an education that was, at a minimum, one level beyond what was needed for the position. Again, that was for an entry-level job. Troy had been dreaming too high when he wanted a job at all. His best chance would be to try making a business himself. Practically no firm made in the last ten years survived their first week, yet the chances of getting an average paid job in the scholar market were somehow still lower than that. Nobody even wanted him as an intern. People did not take degrees in the language to use their knowledge for something good in society. They used it to have a degree, so their parents wouldn''t reprimand them for not getting something related to business. Almost the entirety of that field were rich kids who got jobs through connections. Any postings to the public were only there to not break the law needlessly. Troy had been screwed from the start. The thing he had loved his entire life, studied his entire life, and had gotten educated about his entire life was wholly meaningless the moment that he got out of his bubble. Without connections, no formerly poor person would be able to live the life of the rich. Upstarts were always bought out before they could achieve anything, left to work a tireless job. Was this fairness? Should the system have stopped Troy from following his dreams, if he was destined to fail no matter how hard he tried? It should have, even if he loved every second spent learning. Others should not have to live the life of failure that he experienced himself. He had gotten too old for the government to pay for his education, too old for any establishment to want to accept him in the first place. Going back to the pen and paper was a privilege only given to those who had no need for it in the first place. Maybe it was supposed to be a good thing. The system had spent massive amounts of money to educate a single person. Troy had never paid a dime on anything school-related. Going back for another round would be seen with distrust. If the first round paid back nothing to the government, why should they trust that another would do anything differently? By that point, letting go would be the optimal route. And it was a route that the system would not hesitate to do. It wasn''t human. It had no compassion. It had no empathy. The sunk cost fallacy had no power over its choices. If somebody had no more to give, then that person would be dropped from any support. If they had debt, however, there was no escaping the debtors. The government made sure of that. What Troy would give to have realised that a few years earlier. Maybe he would have sucked in his pride, and chosen some of the physics-based degrees instead. There was never enough of those people around really. They were looked at as novelty, being more or less a straight-up tax removal tool. Researchers were important to have for the government, and there had to be some way to promote that to everybody willing to listen. That approach had been to advertise that branch of education as a near-instant job-giver. If somebody was above-average, they were pretty much guaranteed a job for several decades. Thinking about it now, there was likely a reason that the best of the best never seemed to be that good. Those with actual talent were all cooped up in some facility, kept out of the bright limelight. It was those with the small success that one heard so much about, while those truly advancing their field never being shown an ounce of recognition. Would that translate over to scholars as well? Was there some part of the facility dedicated to discovering the history of tongues? Probably not. Troy had a hard time finding ways to weaponize words. There most likely was, but it wasn''t like he was going to ever figure that out. He wasn''t the top of the crop after all. No, he would be the one being slowly laid off from the job that wasn''t needed in the first place. Instead of working for his share, he was being told to enjoy his free time for the day, left to hang out in his room. An room that had Charlie sitting in front of it. Charlie, a man weighing closer to hundred and fifty kilos than he did a hundred, was sitting beside Troy¡¯s door, looking to be having the time of his life, playing around with whatever gadget he had in the palm of his hand. Life could truly never be predicted. Chapter 186: Arcticization
Squatting down in the hallway, and going eye to eye with a man capable of throwing him several meters, was not in Troy¡¯s day-planner. Neither was what caused the whole thing to start up either, the young having thought that he would be enjoying some time looking at the blank white void that he called his work-space. It really was incredible how these things came together. If more strange things began to just come together around him, the young man would start calling himself Truman. Had to sell those products somehow. "If you are thinking of moving your base over here," Troy started it off with, making sure both understood what was going on fully. "Could you possibly do it on the opposite side of the hallway? I would like to enjoy the comfort of being able to enter my room. You could even decide to just work in your laboratory, as this brilliant place chose to give you." "It is so innocent to think that they gave me my own place because they liked me. It''s more along the lines of them just not wanting more complaints about unprofessional behaviour when it came to me. Distancing me from everybody was apparently the best fix they could think of. I''m not complaining," Charlie answered, putting away whatever the gadget he was playing around with into one of his many inner pockets. From the brief time where it had been in full view, Troy could have best called it a miniature UFO. If the thing had been a little bit wider, it might even have worked as a frisbee. Might even have been one. Though, that would lead to the question of what the man could possibly do to improve the design, not just from a structural standpoint but also on how he could incorporate technology. Perhaps a slew of miniature thrusters which would make it spin faster? ''The frisbee of death.` Sounded like a terrible kids toy but a wonderful weapon of mass destruction. "That does not explain your need for sitting in front of my door, you know," Troy pointed out, getting up from his squatting position. It was understandable that some people found such a position relaxing, but he could not help but find it incredibly taxing on his legs. Some people were just built differently. "And the reasoning behind your privilege of privacy does not excuse your lack of using it. Do you not feel bad for your boss, as he just despairs at how little time you spend inside your work-place?" "Greg could cry at my feet, and I would enjoy it to the fullest," Charlie said back, showing just how full of remorse he truly was. That man had differing opinions on who needed to be respected, and Greg was clearly not one of them. Troy wondered why that particular boss had gotten so much hate. What had he ever done, to gain such notoriety? Maybe he had given out some of those sugar-free doughnuts, before the event that had caused them to be banned. Peanuts were never to be underestimated. "Not like anybody would even notice I''m gone. Do you know how many people willingly enter my fortress of solitude? By my count, four people have, out of their own free will, walked through the readily open door. Some might have a slight fear of doing so, as one of those people have a semi-permanent discolouration on their nose, but at least they live up to their first name now. Somehow, that man did not take my humour well." The one hearing that dry humour did not want to acknowledge that small jab at a poor man¡¯s parent¡¯s naming schemes. Instead, a decision was made to put on the offensive, since that was perhaps more likely to bear fruit than whatever the hell the two were doing right now, Troy standing at full height, and Charlie continuing to sit on the ground like some kind of incredibly muscular goblin. If the hair had been any other colour than blond, the man might just have been able to pull it off. "Could you just¡­ not block my door? Like, you can come inside if you want to. Not like I even need to-" Troy said, cutting himself off before he even got properly started on his tone of indifference. The man now showing off his absurd levels of tallness, that others might have been slightly jealous of, had pulled out his mildly, extremely illegal card, and had entered Troy¡¯s room near-instantly. It had been like a dance, seeing the calfs used to spring the body upwards, the twists in the heels making it turn, and the hand on the wall making him get pulled through the door-frame. A beautiful act of elegance that most certainly left a smudge mark on the wall. "And clean your fingers while you''re at it. You''ve got some black powder attached." No thoughts were spared to what this blackness was, as that would only bring misfortune. Troy could only pray that it was something harmless like the powder used in ancient weaponry. It would fit the standards while only being dangerous if enough heat was attached to it. Though, if it turned out to be the powder used a decade or two ago to spread a disease meant to spread ticking time bombs¡­ again, there was a good reason why people didn''t need to think about the details. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. At least Charlie chose to follow his advice, going towards the toilet to get the stuff off himself. It would have been better to get out someplace other than the bathroom, like a kitchen perhaps, but Troy had this thing called not being in possession of such amenities. Whoever had designed the room had chosen only to include the bare basics. It was only meant to be a sleeping space, after all. Anything more could be found somewhere else. Perhaps the higher-ups had some more space or something, but there were doubts about that. These rooms were made to take up as little space as possible, while still seeming to be in a liveable condition. Troy liked to think there was a lot to that room of his, but it really was closer to an entrance that could be walked through in a single step, his room that could hardly fit two standard beds, and a bathroom cramped enough that he needed to be wary of getting the toilet wet when having a bath. It was just all those thin, non supporting walls that made it all seem so much bigger than what it actually was. Indeed, if the young man positioned himself in just the right position, he would be able to touch his front door, the foot of his bed, and the bathroom door while still being able to spit on the alarm clock sitting on his¡­ There was an alarm clock on his bed-table. An innocent, little alarm clock that was identical to one he had previously owned, destroyed through the bare-handed efforts of Dr Hale. A mortifyingly normal-looking timing-device that had the additional feature of descrying in on Troy¡¯s everyday activities, when they were localised within his room. The young man had worried about having to teach himself to wake up himself at the needed times. It would have been an arduous task of self-discipline, but it could have been dealt with given enough time to think. Seeing that somebody had entered his room, removed all evidence of the earlier destruction, and had placed a new clock there as if nothing had happened at all¡­ it was not the greatest action to be made, for the sake of his mental health. Dr Hale¡¯s words were indeed truthful, but seeing an example of it was more than a little disturbing. Everything else had the potential of being circumstantial, yet this was more than enough. Something was going on. Something he didn''t understand the least bit. Something that had more influence than he could ever hope to grasp. "Is having a look at your bed really so interesting?" Charlie said from behind, putting a hand on Troy''s shoulder to reveal his location. "I got bored from staring at my own by the first week, and that was already on the scale of raising questions. Did you just order some fascinating new bed sheets or something?" "Nothing has changed in this room since the moment I first arrived here," Troy said in correction, not having any real control of what came out of his mouth. It was closer to be said in a trance-like state, the man focusing on more important things than mere words. "I am just beginning to realise how little I understand this place. With how smart everybody here is supposed to be, one would expect that people here would all understand what was going on around them. Yet, its beginning to be more clear that nobody really gets anything about this place at all. Nobody is clear on who controls what, how much they can influence, and what buttons they are allowed to press. It a sphere of information that we cant get inside of, no matter how much we want to. Yet, I feel like its only the expectation of what the answer will be that drives us on. If we ever truly understand it, I dread that we will want to get back to that blissful world of ignorance, never truly grasping how little we controlled in the first place." "I totally understand that," Charlie said, giving the young, mentally confused man a good clap on the back. "I remember back in the day when Darlow and I were trying to create the ultimate weapon of destruction. It took nearly six months of independent work, but we were able to make an untraceable, undetectable, incurable, and fully configurable gas that could make somebody¡¯s dick rot off in the span of a week. We were so proud of it, but it turned out that the higher-ups were not looking for weapons that would also cause deterioration of eye-sight, a minor side-effect of anybody inflicted with the gas at any capacity. Honestly, there is no sense with these people." The muscular man, making watery noises like the bulky gremlin that he was, had enough charisma to draw Troy out of whatever hole his mind had decided to jump head-first into. If this was done intentionally was up to anybody¡¯s guess, as the young man could see a few actual tears in the taller one¡¯s features. Either Charlie was a well-rounded actor or he was expressing actual sadness about his¡­ alternative warmongering techniques being shot down before they had any chance to show their effects. "We are in agreement on one thing, then," Troy acknowledged, noting that the hands were now fully clear of any questionable materials. "If I might ask, why were you even here so early? We agreed on showing up much later today." "Yeah¡­" Charlie said, stopping the watergates immediately. Again, a well-rounded actor. "I kinda forgot when we would be meeting up, and I really didn''t want to hang out at the gym alone for several hours alone, so just sitting in front of your door seemed like the optimal choice." "I am somehow having a hard time buying that but whatever," Troy said, having a guess or two about the actual reasons. "Do you just want to go now, then? You would have to grab your bag from your room, but-" "Oh, no, that''s already cleared up perfectly," Charlie said, cutting in whenever he damned pleased. "I had time to kill before getting to your room, so I just shoved in my bag into one of the boxes at the gym. You just need to grab your own, and we can be on our merry way." Troy felt like pointing out logistical issues in that but just didn''t want to bother with it. Grabbing his bag, and the various articles that would be taken along with it, the two went on the short journey over to the gym. Chapter 187: Aridification
It might have purely been taken from personal bias, but Troy believed the world to have grown more sadistic as time passed by. Again, such ideas might have been construed through personal experiences. Experiences that were not always the same for everybody. Being shot in the back wasn''t the same scenario for both parties. Likewise, it was impossible to say that everyone agreed with these beliefs. Some would even dare say that the world was growing better, that everything in it was slowly being moulded into something that works best for humanity. And that was true, in a way. Slowly but surely, there were few creatures left on the planet that had not yet been touched by the hand of scientists. With the many other changes that people were putting the planet onto so that they could live in the perfect weather on the perfect altitude with the perfect view, it was hard to expect that every animal would be able to instantly adapt. Forests had been removed for the sole reason being that plains would be better to have in a garden. When the British monarchy still existed, these acts of terraforming had become common for the royalty to order for. Yet these changes did not take into account those who flew in the air, those who walked on the earth, and those who swam in the water. And why would they? Birds couldn''t complain to the police, so there was no risk for humans to change a few sacred habitats. Others had different ideas. There was this peculiar thing called biological diversity. It was based on how diverse the organic life on earth was when it came to its genetic structure. Now, almost all life that had lived on earth had died, mostly due to the environment not letting them live sustainably. It could have been due to being too easy prey, or it could have been that there needed substance just didn''t exist in the needed quantities. It didn''t matter much, really. Those species were not around anymore. What mattered was that there was always something to replace those creatures. One would fall, another would take its place. It was a continuous cycle of being renewed into something better, something greater, and most importantly something different. It would always be something different, the genetics being on another scale. It didn''t matter how much of a change it would be from the one before it, as long as it had changed enough to be sustainable. It was the constant terraforming that proved to be this process¡¯ undoing. People would change a habitat, forcing the animals to survive in lower numbers in another area or just die out by a few years'' time. Most species chose the latter, any efforts for the first not working as much as it should have. If the environment was changed once, it might just have been fine. A few square kilometres of living space being eradicated was a mere trifle, something that would go away by itself given a century or two. However, when these changes happened constantly, near-always in a different location, the animals began having trouble keeping up. The problem got to the point where species went from common to critically endangered, only a small percentage ever being killed directly. It was the terraforming that killed them, and people were beginning to see the problems with that. Biological diversity hit lows that were normally classified as being seen in extinction events, like a meteor rain hitting large parts of the world. People were forced to begin genetically engineered wild-life so that they would be able to live in the areas that they were used to. Such practices were usually hit-or-misses and had to be planned ahead of time. But, they did somewhat work, slowing from falling as quickly as before. Even in the current decade, when the countries that originally started this standard had all but disappeared into obscurity, the tradition of allowing the wild-life to life had remained. With technology at the level that it was, modifying creates into being able to live in a new environment was still hard but much more doable than before. These animals were not really the same as what they started with. That was to be expected when you made creatures used to living in plains used to instead of living in a forest. It took a toll on the animals mentally, their instincts not working in tandem with the lives they lived. This stress took more than a few years of their lifespan, but that didn''t really matter. They were alive, they continued their species, and nobody could see their psychological issues when taking cute pictures of them, so there were no problems with the actions done at all. Was that a perfect world? The mental issues were well documented, the problems with the act of forcing animals into living in their normal place, even if the area had been terraformed. There had been so many news articles about it, detailing the horrors inflicted on the animals. The creatures never understood what was happening to them, so how was it fair that they were the ones to feel all the pain? Nobody cared, honestly. There was a protest or two, but half of those were orchestrated by some local politicians in the hopes of gaining a bit more renown, their names being known to a few more people. Almost everybody on the planet fully understood just how messed up the practice was. They just¡­ didn''t really care about it. There were loads of other things to be angry about. Slave camps, a constant revolution of bad dictators, even a few executions of serial killers. There was also the rare evil cop, but that had been getting harder to find as time went on. They were being phased out after all. Stolen novel; please report. People just didn''t have the mental space to feel bad about it. Was that terrible? Was the fact that they felt nothing about it good, or would it have been better that they felt some satisfaction from the pain that the animals got out of it? The end result would be the same, really. Areas still being terraformed, animals forced into submission. It was only on paper that they were even wildlife anymore. Most could be legally taken in by the corporations that helped them survive. Maybe that was the best. If people didn''t like it, then they wouldn''t advocate for it. Neither would they strike down on it, though, yet that was a small price to pay. Troy was sure it would backfire at some point. Though, that indifference. Being on the end of it, seeing the gazes of people that were silently judging you for being so helpless, it was not an enjoyable role at all. Troy could not help but see a few upturned lips at the far reaches, even if they did not exist. That paint, his arms being weaker and weaker, it was mortifying. He was expected to hold on, yet it was seeming more and more impossible. Not so long ago, it had looked so easy, just following along with the predetermined movements. Those same movements that had been drilled into him time and time again. Why were they so hard to do now? Would it really be so wrong to just¡­ let go? To let the bar fall, to let himself be released from this world of tension? He ached, and it would only ache the longer he lasted. It was a system built to maximize that, to bring him to the point of breaking. Yet it never reached past that, never did something that he would not be able to overcome, as long as he tried his best. It was a system meant to break a soul, to make the person feel despair usually reserved for those falling with regret. "Dammit," Troy forced out, as he finally gave up on lifting the bar a twelfth time. Whatever people might have thought in the past about how grandiose humanity was becoming, it was clear that true sadism still lied in the population, waiting to strike at the opportune time. Whoever had created a bench-press designed towards stressing those muscles to the maximum was clearly one such sadist. Troy had never been one to use many machines earlier in his life, sticking with free weights. It was not due to him favouring dumbbells or anything, being closer to him not being able to afford to join a gym with advanced equipment. "Really thought I could do one more." "You could have," Charlie corrected, looking like roses and sunshine as he did the same workout on an identical bench. Instead of being on a constant brink of stress, the muscular man was doing a work-up, where the bar would continually gain more and more weight. Troy had not known about this setting, not knowing there was any way to change settings at all, to begin with. "It was only your lacking willpower holding you back." Not that he would have ever done such a thing though, once he realised just how much weight was being added. Instead of being regulated by something reasonable, like the weight being added after each repetition, the total number increased by one kilogram every second. It started at twenty and two full minutes had passed since the man had started. It took about five seconds for a repetition, and the weight increased every second, which when put into a graph would show that Charlie was currently lifting a shit ton of weight, and had been doing so for quite some time. It was only through the nonchalance of the people around them that Troy did not applaud the showing of the human physique. Already, the total weight was double what the young weighed at all, and the one lifting it did not seem deterred at all yet. "Easy for you to say, you muscle-bound freak," Troy said, getting up in a sitting position. With each repetition, the corded muscle could be seen through Charlie¡¯s shirt. The sheer muscle mass on the chest was astounding. "Honestly, are you sure that there aren''t any steroids involved?" Charlie did not answer instantly, beginning to grow more focused on his breathing. That was fine, really. The young man would have fallen long ago if that was the kind of weight bearing down on him. It was perfectly reasonable that one wouldn''t be able to sustain a normal conversation while lifting numbers that would have broken a multitude of records a hundred years ago. It took another minute and a half before the man gave in. By that point, his head was red, his arms having a similar colouration. Those automatic benches really were exceptional machines, when ignoring the clearly sadistic nature they had attached. When using them correctly, there was next to no chance of being damaged by the machine. It wasn''t like the bar could fall and break the ribs. The moment the person would stop trying was the same moment that the machine would remove all the weight. Troy wasn''t sure how that really worked, but the results spoke for themself. "I don''t have anything other than good genes¡­ and some very advanced physical therapy," Charlie said, adding that last part as nothing more than a common afterthought. Troy took it as the man trying to downplay a very important part of his regimen. "I have no need for such paltry things when I have hard work and dedication on my side. Maybe you could look up to me as a mentor, and allow me to help-" "I have to refuse, while I still have the chance. Not really sorry at all about it, but it just sounds a bit too much like you are going to try selling me vitamin supplements in a few seconds," Troy cut in, not even letting that man finish. There were moments where he felt bad for those who didn''t read the contracts. It was a sad reality, pyramid schemes taking advantage of those who didn''t know how to realise how bad some people wanted to earn money. "... I was just thinking that you would want to join me in those therapy contraptions. Otherwise, we¡¯re gonna have to scale down any training you do. Your body can''t handle the stress otherwise, and you will begin losing mass instead of gaining it. That isn''t a mistake anybody would want to make, let me assure you of that." Oh? "Am I to guess that these things are your own creations?" "Eh, I would say that directly," Charlie said, waving away a small bit of hope. "Its more like¡­ I have slightly modified a couple that I permanently loaned from one of the failed projects. Purely professional, of course. I even signed a document stating that it was my doing." Troy had been hoping for something a little more¡­ secretive. A shame. But, what could one hope for when the two were talking out in the open? Not like Charlie was brazen enough to say anything truly incriminating. "The things were supposed to be destroyed, but I just forged a few documents. The things are just sitting behind one of the walls in my laboratory. I have a few, but I only ever use one of them. Do you want to try?" ¡­ Guess some people were just more open than others. "Sure. Sounds fun." And, it was the opportunity he had been looking for. Chapter 188: Cardioception
Was going for the goals truly always this easy? Troy was not sure if he was being extremely lucky or if it was just the standard. He had done little in the way of getting to Charlie¡¯s laboratory, to the point where he had refrained from asking about it. When they had been in his room hours earlier, he could have asked if they could go there. It would have been perfectly fine, seeing as they were only supposed to train much later in the day. Yet, that hadn''t been acted upon, the time for fitness only being hurried along. It was the cowardly approach, and it had somehow paid off in the end. "How are you doing on your side? Feeling the need to faint yet?" Charlie asked from the side, inside of the so-called physical therapy machines. There was some shortened name for the ghoulish things, yet Troy could not get himself to remember it, his body doing its best to remind him of anything but it. It made him think of the miracle cure, which Zep had shown off not that long ago. A single bottle was needed before his body was refreshed and ready to take on the world. With most other methods to help the healing process along, there were a couple more steps. Cold and hot treatments, deep tissue massages, and all sorts of other techniques were still commonplace. Years ago, people had apparently tried to fit all those methods, small and big, into one single machine. It was a revolutionary idea, to contain it all into an easy-to-manage space. It certainly sounded good on paper. In practice though¡­ not so much. There had been more than a few dollars put into the budget. These had not been totally in vain, the project yielding some success. The machine was successfully built, with all the features promised included inside it. According to Charlie, it was even A-plus rated on energy-efficiency. Troy didn''t fully understand how that could be looked at as a positive thing, but that did not really matter too much. What he did understand, however, let the man fully understand why the project was scrapped entirely. While every single feature promised was inside, there were a few more that had not been intended in any way. One of these could best be described in the effect it gave out, and that was its ability to increase the mental fortitude of the people using the machines. "You know, I am fully beginning to get why nobody has taken these away from you," Troy mused aloud, trying his best not to move his arms. The last time he did that, the creeping cold hit his armpits in a way that had unmotivated sounds escape in his throat. "Nobody fucking wants them enough to complain about it." There was a complete understanding of the value that those machines had. Troy felt the effect they had on his tired limbs already. Yet¡­ that did not seem as important as the constant changes being bathed in hot air and the cold air. It had been gradually getting longer and longer downwards. Charlie had even given him a few warnings about touching the sides as it had a chance of causing the skin to rupture. "Don''t be so sure about that," Charlie replied, looking to be having the time of the life. The young guessed it to be due to the first-class seats to improvised entertainment. "I have gotten several offers to sell these things off. For whatever reason, people think the technology in these things will be the next step in creating miniature cold-fusion. It isn''t my area of speciality, honestly, so I don''t understand how it really works. And if I''m not sure it will help anybody, then I''m not selling these things off. The health of my body is more important." "... But you have over ten of them. You only need one." "That''s where you''re wrong, kiddo. I like to switch between them every now and then. I need as many as possible so that nobody mistakes it as me giving secrets away in some obscure manner. I''m basically doing everybody a favour by not selling them." It was times like these where Troy could really understand the foundations of anarchism. People got greedy when they had too much. While this was mainly meant to be related to money, it apparently fitted pretty well when it came to automatic physical therapy machines. Both of them really did have the same qualities. The more you had, the better your life could become. With money, one could buy better things, and with the machines, one could gain better health while also giving your mind the needed amount of new input. The variety was good for the brain after all. They also had the same potential of causing indescribable levels of discomfort, if only in slightly differing ways. The money caused the greed of humanity to slowly cause cracks within the species¡¯ rank, while the machines went the direct way of literally giving people a deep tissue massage. Massages were supposed to feel good! Troy had heard about people getting them when he was younger, learning about how it was a loving experience. He had always thought about getting one from a professional masseuse, but the ones he could find cost much more money than he had expected. And they were all local for some reason. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Now that he had truly felt it for himself, maybe it was a good thing he had never paid for such things. It would have been a total waste of money, as he would have never done it again. How Charlie was able to endure such a thing on a daily basis was the question that would plague philosophers for centuries to come. Maybe the mind had been broken to the state of being unable to differentiate pleasure from pain. Or he was a masochist. Some people were just born like that. Troy could only look up to those people. Or maybe down. Depended on where they were. "How long have you had these machines?" Troy asked, spending his time distracting himself to the absolute maximum. He had been told to strip down to his undies, and there had now been an understanding of why that was. Why did the artificial fingers need to be cold? And why the back? Trying to focus on something else was really the only way to survive. There was still too long a time before the procedure was done. "It has been a few years, nowadays," Charlie said, looking like an old man trying to remember the difference between something happening last Tuesday and something happening ten years ago. "It was a year or two after getting here, so it should be about¡­ a decade perhaps? Hoot, I need to write these things down once in a while." A decade, huh? Troy couldn''t see it on the machines. The iron plating on the outside looked newly polished as if it had been created only hours ago. The inside may have had icing attached, but when the frost coating was removed, the look was more than just pristine. There were no blemishes, no flaws that could be pointed out. These machines had been held up to the point of perfection. It was as if they had never been used before. Yet that could not be, for Charlie should have used them thousands of time in total. As they were illegal, there were doubts that he had others help him in keeping them up to standard. Even more troublesome was the idea that Charlie would spend several hours each day keeping the machines up to a presentable level. "How are you even caring for them, then? I¡¯d have expected for them to be a little more beat up if they are that old," Troy commented, still trying to guess it for himself. Perhaps the older man had devised self-controlled robots that would follow regular patterns? Standard cleaning was easy enough to program, and any irregularities could be done manually. But, could they be trusted with not messing anything up, when the machinery itself was complex enough to be destroyed by a person sneezing loudly close to it? "I take offence to that statement. I am not that old, thank you," Charlie had the need to say, looking abashed at the incredulity of the youth. It was almost on the brink of him wanting to start ranting about how the young people had it so easy, but he stopped himself as he realised the irony of it. "Oh, and I have not done a single thing to keep these machines up to scratch. These beauties are beautiful in the way that they are entirely self-reliant. The only needed action I have ever needed to do was to replace one of the battery accumulators inside, and that was due to me trying to mess around with the setting manually. Didn''t go well at that time. Had to shave off my hair so I wouldn''t get any unwanted poison through the skin-pores. Took way too long to grow these beautiful golden locks back" "Sounds complicated," Troy commented, only really getting the self-cleaning part. He wondered how that really worked. Maybe a few extendable arms coming out from the side? Could work, even if the image of it was a little comic-based. "It most certainly isn''t. You just need to have a basic understanding of atom physics, particle physics, quantum physics, most dynamics-based fields, a few engineering degrees mixed in, and then just have some sociology course on top to skim off any holes in understanding. Maybe have a few literature studies on the side if you want to. I hear those are getting popular as of late," Charlie said, trying to make himself sound average when he very obviously needed to shut his mouth a little. "Well, seeing as I can''t remember what half of those fields are about, I am just going to stick to the side that''s ignorant," Troy replied. "And, literature is not even in the top hundred anymore. People don''t really care much about the past. Courses about future prospects are much more fun." "Pretty sure there was some old guy talking about learning from the past. People need to read some of that stuff if they want to learn. Maybe, they could even watch some of Sagan¡¯s stuff. It certainly drove me into this business when I was younger," Charlie remarked, Troy not having any clue who he was talking about. "What brought you over to the dark side, though? It obviously isn''t omniscience, seeing as you can''t be asked to study things outside of your expertise. In fact, I don''t even know what you study. Though that might be due to restrictions on what I''m allowed to know, yet you can still say what gave the push into this business." Charlie wanted to know more about him. That was fair, really. Troy had asked so many things, it was only karma that he would get some questions sent back. The two were co-workers, so getting some background-information was the standard. What did Charlie even really know? He certainly didn''t know of Troy¡¯s lack of scientific study. He had tried to learn a small bit of it when he was younger, yet the concepts had just flown by the young man¡¯s head. The structure of atoms he could get. It just got a little too complicated when he was expected to understand all the formulas attached to the atoms. There were definitely other things further on in that, but he had never gotten to a point where he could learn about it. Maybe there were even other specialities that he could have chosen to study in early on. He wouldn''t know. That first setback had been more than enough for him, only empowering him to focus upon the language road. Troy couldn''t say that outright, however. He was still against directly lying to Charlie, due to the chance that he could be called out on the bluff. The muscular man knew a lot, and even the simplest questions about a certain study could ruin him. "I guess¡­ you could say that I have always had an interest in how humans communicated, how it could be manipulated, and how you could create more from it. I don''t think I''m allowed to say anything more specific than that, unfortunately. Sorry for being vague about it," Troy said, not having a hard time sounding a little guilty. "It''s fine. Wasn''t expecting to hear too much out of you anyway. When you work on projects as secret as yours, one should be happy that I''m even allowed to remember your face. Fair warning, actually. If you ever forget why you were walking forward, just continue walking ahead. It will save you a world of trouble," Charlie said, as both machines made a long beep before opening up. Having been unable to really feel his body before that, Troy felt like just letting his meat sack fall to the ground. That was stopped, though, the moment he actually did try to move around. It felt¡­ refreshing. There was nothing hinting at him being tired only minutes ago. "I''m getting hungry. Do you want anything?" Charlie was already in the process of acquiring sugary goods from hidden cabinets. That man really didn''t waste time, when he had something to go after. Troy wished he could say the same. Chapter 189: Bioimmuration
Distractions were always looked at as something bad. People damned them from the moment they came around as if they did not cherish them the second they were needed. It was a love or hate relationship, nobody ever being in the middle about it. Even if Troy understood just how important they were, he could not get himself to respect them. Currently, he loved them with all of his heart. In five minutes, he would hate it. Or he would still love it. Everything depended on him being able to do what he was supposed to do from the start. "I still don''t comprehend how you can say something so moronic," Charlie said, for what felt like the tenth time. "Bread with vanilla cream is better than bread with chocolate. How can you say the opposite, and actually mean what you''re saying? Did somebody replace your brain with a stale piece of toast?" "Again, there is an important synergy between consistency and taste, when it comes to food. When I think of bread, I think of something mildly soft, yet not to the point where I can mould it with my tongue. However, bread alone is not a worthwhile dessert, because it needs something sugary attached. Vanilla cream can work in theory, as it is both delicious and can be mixed with many things. Yet chocolate chips are fully superior in the bread department, for they uphold the regulations set in place with bread. If vanilla cream had the slightest bit of crunch, I would consider making them superior, but we both know that will never happen," Troy shot back, not letting Charlie gain ground through the use of unimportant slurs. The two had been at it for a while, trying to make the other understand how their choice was the inferior one. Troy truly did believe that his own opinions were objectively accurate, seeing as he understood them better than anyone. Therefore, Charlie needed to shut his mouth up with some comically-sized super-glue and try to listen to the young man¡¯s words of wisdom. Ten minutes had been had, since that moment that started it all. The muscular man had thought himself doing an act of kindness, by leaving the last vanilla bun for Troy. The young man had however requested to get the last of the chocolate buns, as they were in a greater way, even if their packaging was less fanciful in the colouring scheme. Charlie had apparently taken offence to that statement of his, and their group discussion had stated off. The two buns had not yet been eaten, mostly ignored as words flowed out of each other. They were still civilised, letting each other speak in turns so as to not cut in when it was unneeded. Yet Troy could not see that continuing for long. If nothing else could be said, the older man was very clear about his choices in bad taste. "Oh, and you probably like your fries frozen, so you can get that extra crunch out of them. Maybe you can even call it a bloody delicacy that you get some water added as well!" Charlie proclaimed, hitting the table that the two sat at with his fists. Troy still did not understand why the man had brought it forth while the discussion had only first started, yet there was a creeping suspicion that its only purpose was for dramatic effects. Hitting the table definitely looked better than the man hitting the air. One was the image of an angry man, while the other was a child having an anger tantrum. "We both know how chocolate bread tastes! It''s fine, yes, but it does not hold a single candle to the sweet goodness that is vanilla cream. There is not a single bad thing about the change in texture. It actually makes it even better! A platter of food is expected to taste differently and have varied character. How can you not see that?" A platter of food was meant to be the embodiment of diversity, yes, but such things were not expected from a single piece of food. Some of the more extravagant pieces prided themselves on their variety in taste, the changes on the tongues as it was slowly bitten into more and more. That was not something a mere vanilla bun was supposed to go after. Each type of food had its own placement, and the sugary treats were supposed to have something one-sided in the ways of taste. It did not need to try to be something it was not, when what it started as was already good enough. The chocolate bun showed this off perfectly, only complimenting the regular taste of bread while also adding its own spin on it. When it came to that which had vanilla inside it, the taste was like night and day. The people did not care for what was outside, only giving a damn about what was within. It was not the equal distribution that it was supposed to be, and that was where it failed the hardest. "It might not be me who needs to have their eyes checked," Troy replied, briefly looking down at the table to make sure the two remaining buns were still fine and well. If they were destroyed, the entire argument would fall apart. Charlie needed to understand that what he had been doing was not an act of kindness but actually the complete opposite. "Are you sure you do not want to back down? Our food is getting stale the longer you take to realise the truth? Or¡­ have you already realised just how futile your points are? I would not expect you to be so stubborn, but I guess everybody can get surprised every now and then." The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. It was getting harder and harder to come up with original arguments. It was a flaw of improvisation that Troy had been working on removing from himself, yet he was still a long distance away from having succeeded. Charlie, in contrast, was an absolute master when it came just spitting out whatever shit he could from his mouth. In the end, it did not matter much if it was as full of quality as Troy¡¯s was, for he had so much more to fire with. The young man had mistakenly brought quality to a war of attrition, and he would soon suffer from it. If that is, the battlefield was not changed. Nothing was set in stone, and all was fair in love and war. As long as the attention could be sent to the right side, then Troy still had a chance of pulling out victorious. He just had to be the last to do so, meaning that he needed to make Charlie reach the right conclusion. "I could say the same thing to you, my friend. You pretend to be so wise, yet you are unable to see just how much wisdom you truly lack. You call yourself a master, yet even a student is able to overtake. How much more stupidity do you need to spread, before you realise just how much you have already lost. Trust me, you have lost face in the eyes of everybody in the room," Charlie proclaimed, not backing down easily. Yet¡­ there was still some hesitation in the man¡¯s eyes. It was whimsical and it was slim, but it was something to take from. And take from Troy certainly did. "Your words mean as much as your beliefs are true. I heartily feel empathy for your situation, unable to see the truth. You call me for treachery, yet you don''t realise that you have betrayed those in the highest order. What would the true masters think, if you were unable to distinguish divinity from the ninth circle? Repent I say! Repent!" Troy proclaimed, trying his best to sound smarter than he actually was. He even stole his last lines from some old movie he watched when he was younger, though he couldn''t remember its name for the life of him. Yet the source material did not need to be thought about, as all that really mattered was the success-rate of it. If he could just get one hesitation from the muscular man, he would be able to make him concede¡­ maybe. Troy wasn''t actually sure how likely it was if he could make Charlie stand down. The man was looking energetic enough to continue for hours on end, and even the push into the endgame made it look as if it could continue to double its current length. The younger one would not be able to last that long, losing by default. He did not have enough material to go with for an extended period. Even now, he was just working on fumes. If Charlie requested anything specific, Troy was afraid that he would suffer from performance issues. "Divinity is a myth, and perfection has nothing with what the majority says. The average person is stupid, and should not be trusted to ever state the objective truth. If we can''t trust the nuke launches to a democratic vote, do you really want to listen to what they have to say about bread ranking? There are some things in life which only the experts can say anything worthwhile about. There are reasons these people exist to start with. They have dedicated years of their life to find the absolute truths in this world, and not trusting them is a sin in itself." Gotcha. Troy was stringing the man with a fine thread. Even if he was a beginner at his craft, even he knew how to lead a conversation along the right path. Learning of buzzwords had been the second-greatest thing to ever happen to him. "You say that you need to trust the experts, yet can you even call yourself such a person. We are on equal ground when it comes to personal experience, and I have doubts that you are an educated pastry chef," Troy replied, trying to sound just confident enough to be taken seriously. "One does not need to be Einstein himself to understand his equations," Charlie fired back. "You absolutely don''t, but I have not yet heard you state a single source about, where you are getting these facts from. Could you perhaps declare them, so we can review them to check their validity? If there''s nothing suspicious about it, I will immediately admit my defeat, and we can both be on our merry way," Troy said, with a tone that implied how his decision was final. It was not the most sophisticated of bluffs. He had accused Charlie of making things up as he went along while doing just that himself. If the man decided to call this out, there would be no defence that could work. Any attempts at misdirection would fail, as Troy should have been able to answer instantly. Things just had to work, else he would be in a world of trouble. ¡­ "You do realise how hard it would be, to get such sources validated, right?" Charlie questioned, sounding weirdly uneasy about that particular fact. This would be a time where the normal manipulator would put pressure on it directly, yet Troy decided to go a more fine-tuned route, going for something closer to the carrot than the stick. "You raise a fair point," Troy acknowledged, sounding as if he was going to step down from his earlier declaration. Like hell, he was going to do that. "Then¡­ let''s say this. How about you just show me a professionally written page full of the information that you have used in these last few minutes. It doesn''t have to be all of them. Just a few. How does that sound?" He had him. Troy fucking had him. Charlie was looking stressed to the point his head was starting to look a little red, trying to come up with something worthwhile. The man was absolutely failing, trapped inside the kind considerations made for him. Any argument against it now would look pitiful, and everybody inside that room knew it. Those in the room might only have numbered two, but it was still considerable. "... This discussion bores me. How about we just drop it off here? Seeing as you were about to get the upper hand, we can just say that I owe you a favour?" Troy had not expected that to come from the man. He basically admitted defeat, while still allowing the young man to get something out of it. Looking at the time, there was still two minutes left. Those would not be used fully it seemed, for there were doubts that the chance would not come in full again. It was official. He hated distractions. Chapter 190: Carnification
What exactly was a favour? Troy already understood it was about accepting another person''s request, without there being any real specifics on what it could be. There could be restrictions on what could be asked, as word-based agreement could always be broken. What boundaries did Charlie set up when he tried to concede by offering a favour to Troy? Could the young man ask for anything? Could he demand monetary recompense? There was not any chance in hell that he would do something like that, yet it did help set up one single fact. Troy could not ask for anything. It had to be something reasonable. Something that any old person could ask for, and have at least a one in twenty chance of getting anyway. When it came to buying a coffee or just making the person do an embarrassing act, it was easy to find the line on if it was acceptable. But, would Troy asking for one of Charlie¡¯s devices be acceptable? Could he ask for something that could make conversation secret, and make sure that the man would not tell anybody about it? There were many ways to look at it, and he wondered if any of them really mattered. This was not something he could decide not to do. The man had to get it done quickly, without remorse, and without anything holding him back. Even if it was socially unacceptable, he had to try. If the current approach did not work, then he would just have to do another. If worse came to worst, he could always do something that he would forever regret. "Premise sounds good enough," Troy amended, trying not to sound too excited about the prospect of a favour. "What restrictions do apply?" In the short time where the younger one tried to play it cool, Charlie had seemingly gotten back his energy, seeming to outright feed at getting a preemptive upper hand. Troy could not understand how that man had the mentality for such alterations but did not have the spare time to question it. The game was only beginning, and he had to look around with a cool eye. "I thought you would never ask. Personally, I am a person against having any rules about the favours that I can grant. Always hated those genies that just put rules on everything, so that I wouldn''t be able to wish for infinite wishes when I met one of them. However, I have nothing against the monkey''s paw, twisting the wishes of others into something terrible. It''s always a fun time to ruin others lives, all for the sake of granting their wish. Nearly makes me want to owe favours more, if not for the chance of people making over-complicated wishes," Charlie looked ready to babble on and one, but seemingly remembered that he wasn''t just talking to an unthinking brick wall. Troy didn''t especially mind that idea of him. One could not blame a brick wall for being stupid. A human though¡­ there was more than enough blame to give, giving extra attention to all the right parts. Giving a good glance to the cabinets to the side, the young man could not help but be temporarily stopped, something in his mind trying to make him stand back. Just asking for something stupid would be so much better, and it would not potentially ruin any kind of relationship the two had to go with. Charlie was being a good friend, and Troy did not want to ruin that. Yet he also didn''t want to ruin Dr Hale¡¯s plan. The thought of making years of work fall apart due to his own sensibilities made his fingers clench on the table. It was a good thing they were mostly hidden on the underside, or there would undoubtedly be comments on their lack of blood. Was his head hurting? Troy felt a little lightheaded, trying to hold up his eyes. The head was fine, but the mind was not in it. He needed to get into it now. Charlie was beginning to notice the passing seconds as much as himself, and something needed to be said. "I¡­ " Nothing more came out of him, his throat choking on him the moment he tried to speak. Even the air was being stopped, his lungs desperately trying to get something in. Yet he was still trying to press it out, to make himself able to vocalise the one request that he needed to make a reality. His body was fighting him. His fingers were clenched into fists, sitting on his legs. The few with the nails long enough were able to dig into the skin, making his palms bleed a little. Troy could barely even notice the pain. He could barely even notice any sensation. The eyes were beginning to get unresponsive, or it might have been his mind beginning to ignore whatever was sent it''s way. It was all beginning to get a little darker. Yet the ears were not following along, a high pitch beginning to be heard, reminding him of a wailing siren in the distance. It went up and down in the frequencies, never laying still, never letting Troy adapt to the high tones. He needed to say those words. Troy needed to get it out, or he would not be able to make the needed outcome happen. If he failed here, there were doubts that the chance would ever emerge again. Without his notice, Charlie had gotten up from the seat opposite of him. Troy did not notice this through sight or sound. It was the warmth enveloping that spurred on the realization, the large man having noticed instantly what was going on. Charlie was hugging him, likely concerned for him, and caring for him in the only way that could ever really help. He was giving Troy comfort, and it felt terrible to be given it. He did not deserve that warmth, better to be left on the floor like the piece of trash that he was. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Here Troy was, mentally preparing himself to blackmail his friend while that same friend was helping him get himself back together. He really was a massive piece of shit. Maybe he needed another hit in the stomach. That would probably fix more things than it would destroy. "... I''m sorry," Troy got out, as his throat began to relax. It came out as more of a blubber of stammering, hard enough to understand when being the one to say it. Yet, Charlie seemed to understand it perfectly, holding him just a little tighter after the words were released. He really was a good friend. It was a good thing that the tears had already appeared, for that thought would have made him go over the edge. Now, it just made him stay where he was for even longer, not being able to move from his state of inadequacy. "It''s fine. Nothing to be ashamed about. You don''t have to ask for anything if you do not want to. You are the one making decisions here. Not me," Charlie said calmly. The words were given out fluently, yet not at a pace where Troy would have to think to understand them. It was the perfect speed for his mind, currently doing its best to implode. The man did not know the situation, because he was not allowed to know of it. There was nothing Troy could say to make Charlie understand it, without ruining everything that Dr Hale had dedicated so long to create. Days upon days of work would be destroyed, just so that he could skip out on such a basic task. If Troy could not do such an easy thing right, could he ever be trusted with anything else? It made Dr Fidelis¡¯ ideas about making him obsolete in the tests make so much more sense. "I don''t have a choice. I have to do this," Troy muttered, trying to stop the tears by holding his eyes open. Made it harder to hide from the gaze, and there were worries if it even made a difference in the original goal. "Says who?" Charlie questioned, the playful tone making it clear that it was rhetorical. Not like that needed any questioning, to begin with, both having a good idea on just who would want something out of Troy. "Nobody controls your life more than yourself. If you don''t want to do something, then just don''t do it. It all comes down to what you want to do. Not anybody else. Those people shouldn''t even try to control your life." "But, it''s a simple thing to do. I should just be able to say it and get it over with, but I just can''t get myself to do it," Troy stammered out, finally able to go with longer sentences. That man was a treasure. Why couldn''t he be an asshole? It would have stopped the guilt, stopped everything from coming out of him. He had earlier prided himself on not showing off such a pitiful side of himself, yet he had already failed in doing that twice now. If not for Charlie, more people would have seen it. "We all have it hard with different things. Sometimes, we just need a helping hand," Charlie said, before making a somewhat defeated sight. It was incredible just how much an exhale of air could hurt him. "Something tells me you aren''t going to back down on this, no matter how much I want that from you. Troy, you might look a bit of a wimp but you do have some form of resolve attached." And¡­ right back to his normal attitude, his words both humorous and comforting in a way. Troy was a little happy he had returned to the usual state, not being too serious or too playful. It was a line that Charlie could walk so much better than anybody else he had ever met. "I try my best," Troy said, trying to match the attitude sent his way. He felt it terribly done, yet Charlie took no heed to those imperfections, grinning broadly like he always did at the best of times. It even made the younger one give a small smile as well. "Would have been better if I could just say it straight out." "Again, don''t be too hard on yourself for failing. Even somebody as perfect as myself fail sometimes, though I am very skilled at hiding it," Charlie said, these words bringing to notice the lack of buns on the table. Troy noted this, before being stopped by the next few words. "And, it is not like I need for you to say that you want one of my beautiful inventions. Though I have still not been able to figure out which of them you want. Or maybe it is one which you merely hope that I have? Am I right so far?" With such a broad questioning, there would be no difference between saying no or yes. However, Troy still nodded. Even if he was crying like a so-called wimp, he was still a polite wimp. Through the power of a gentle push, Charlie guided Troy over to one of the cabinets, opening it up for him. There had been an expectation see fantastical things inside, mechanical wonders that he would not be able to comprehend. Instead, there was a piece of paper, looking to have been written neatly on. "While I would love to play twenty questions, I am one who always employs the brightest of resources," Charlie stated, grabbing a hold of the paper and handing it over to Troy. The younger one took it more out of reflex, like a toddler not really understanding what was going on but still going along with it out of pure curiosity. "This here is a finely detailed list of what I can lend you. It has a basic description of the abilities, but not how to really use it. I¡¯ll do that part myself. Can''t trust such vital things to something so easily stolen." ¡­ Charlie was helping him along, more than Troy had ever expected. He took one look at the situation, the limits that Troy had on what he could do, and immediately found a way to work around it. If he was not so shocked by it all, he might have sung the man his praises. Instead, he just began to silently read through the paper, going over the inventions now at his disposal. It was incredible, surprising, and a creator of so many questions. Some of these things listed made sense, such as the standard ray-gun that could shoot thin-mints, or the miniature roller-coaster that had all the parts attached. Then there was the addon knuckle taser which was apparently able to give people a heart-attack if pressed against their chest. There was also a long section dedicated to the various utility augmentations which had gone unused. Some of them were not for a younger audience, and Troy was left to wonder if that one could even be called human with some of them. These miscellaneous inventions were mostly skipped over, until the moment where he finally found what he was looking for. It was not the ''Bender` which he had thought it would be. Instead, it was a very familiar description of some small black bugs. "If it might be possible, could I loan one of these?" Troy asked, pointing at the item¡¯s description. Charlie looked perfectly happy with the younger man browsing the list, yet that face had changed the moment the decision was made. "Troy. Should I ask why you would need this?" Charlie asked, his voice growing more serious by the millisecond. "I would prefer that you don''t," Troy said. There was the omnipresent dread of being recorded, and it did not need to be spelt out on what the younger man wanted. Charlie stared back at this answer with a calculating gaze, before just seemingly giving up. "These only work for a temporary time, before blowing out due to heating issues. I have a bigger, better version that can handle the stress repeatedly. Though, it only works for a few minutes before needing time to repair the circuits by itself. I''m guessing that''s fine by you?" Troy nodded, but it was not like that mattered at all, the muscular man already walking over to get it for him. The device was in fact less than ten centimetres wide, circular in shape with a total height of about seven centimetres, and that one was mostly topped off by the overly big red button on top. Charlie clearly had never had much of a desire for fashion design. "This should work just fine then. Use it for whatever you need, and then just give it back to me when you are done. Does Not have to be within a day or anything, just as long as I get it at some point in time," Charlie stated, to which Troy nodded. He could work with that. He could work with anything, really. He had gotten the device and had fulfilled the order Dr Hale had given him. "Good to know you understand. And remember this thing only words for a few minutes at a time. When the light goes out on this circle-thingy, then it means that anything that was turned off will be turned back on." He didn''t need to be reminded. Troy now just needed to wait until the next time he and Dr Hale could meet back up. Chapter 191: Carunculation
The human body was an exceptional piece of art. Through the now many hours spent on creating it, Adam could not help but feel unfilled in his work. There were so many details, so many points that were almost realistic. They almost looked perfect, almost indistinguishable from the real deal. That last part of realism made all the difference in making it look flawed. How could things so small, so insignificant make so much effort seem meaningless? If the AI was to present what he currently had as the final product, there were doubts that the reaction would differ from what had been seen before. Adam could not understand where he had gone so wrong. He had worked on making the skin flawless, the face detailed to a point where the individual pores could be closely studied without fault. He had made the eyes able to glisten in the light, able to reflect anything coming their way. The lips had been made to the perfectly average proportions. It was not the beauty at fault, for the AI had not taken those standards into account. He did not try making something artificially perfect, something that would stand on top of the other primitives. No, he had tried to make the most average, the dullest, the most boring man possible. Adam had tried to create a person who¡¯s face people would be incapable of ever remembering. There had been no attempt to go above and beyond, for that was not needed in any way. The creation was designed to have both feet planted in the subliminal mindscape, with not a thought to itself. That was the way Adam had thought of it from the start, and that was what he went for ever since. And it was also the primary reason why he had failed. He had gone after making a perfect replica of a human but had fully ignored one of the key traits that there was to a body. It was meant to be alive. It was meant to swing its arms around, to run in the wind, to kill for its own entertainment, and to harvest the fruits of another''s work. The AI had created something fully incapable of such things, with the only movement it could do being to just fall down onto the ground, as its body was not balanced correctly. That had been an artificial flaw added in later, perfect symmetry never seeming to be present in humans. Adam did not really get why that was a needed detail for realism but did not think to question it. In the end, the AI was incapable of making up for such a large flaw. Having looked over the rest of the options at a frequent pace, he had been unable to find anything able to make his creation able to act like a human. He was able to make it do simple motions inside the interface with the help of object commands. But that was restricted to one at a time, never coming close to even making the body able to take a step forward. Such a process would take upwards of a minute to do successfully. Adam had well and truly failed at his current project. How long had he been at it? By his own count, it would currently be at midnight outside, perhaps a few minutes over it even. If it had been restrained to normal testing times, Adam would have been stopped long ago. He would have thought himself to slowly but surely gain ground in his product, that he would just need one last push before he would reach success. It really was a good thing that Troy had decided to ignore his own wellbeing so that the AI would learn of his own faults quickly. ¡­ Sarcasm, again. Adam had been doing that more as of late. In the past, he would just throw things around inside himself. Not physically, being more of a violent resorting of memories. It did nothing other than creating more work for him, making it related to just actively impeding himself. Using sarcasm as a calming technique was better in the short term, but the AI understood that he was just treating the symptom. Adam was not supposed to have symptoms of anything. That was something humans suffered with. Not him. They could get sick from disease, a paper cut could put them in a hospital bed. The AI had nothing to be cut down with, so he should have been fully immune to anything thrown his way. That logic had worked for him for such a long time, that it felt weird for it to now show just how optimistic it had been. Really, it had been more ignorant than anything, him not being able to put two and two together. Even if there was no physical body to contract the disease, there was still a mind able to get inflicted with emotion. What could he begin to suffer from? Was he susceptible to the same as humans, or was he destined to find something wholly new, never seen before? Could he grow deathly afraid of himself, destined to always run away from his own shadow? It was clear that there were triggers in place to make his mind fragment itself. Adam still did not know what that would cause. Would there even be a step from what he currently had, if he was to experience another fragmentation? There were a potentially infinite number of threads inside him currently, only being created if ever tried to count them. How did it grow from infinity? What could possibly be beyond such a concept? Would he just begin to grow no matter what he did? If such a thing were to happen, Adam was not sure he would be able to retain his sense of self. In the last time the fragmentation occurred, there definitely was a period of time where he just wasn''t awake, where his body experienced being torn about without him having any ability to notice. It was really only after being sent a message that he began noticing his own state of mind. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. What would have happened if¡­ there had been no message sent? Would Adam have continued his self-destructive pattern without even realizing it? The possibility of it was there, and it was worrying to think about. It was worrying enough that he might just get himself an automatic message sent to him every few minutes if that was possible to get the doctor to do. It was not something to immediately request of course, as Dr Fidelis had already denied other ideas. It would be best to just let the pot boil a little while more. With all that said, there really was not much else that the AI would be able to do on his project. He could continue adding more detail under the clothing, the skin not yet being fully formed under there. Yet that was more along the lines of him just elongating the time needed to give up. Those efforts would do nothing on the overall picture, making them seem worthless to him. They would add nothing to the progress, as they were not even close to fulfilling the still primary flaw. Adam needed the body to move, and he was not able to do that. Perhaps he could give the illusion of movement? The only real decider of if it was realistic or not would be those watching the display. If he could somehow push the limbs, the fact, and the core into different positions, the AI could make it seem like the creation was alive. Though, that would require outside influences in the shape of physical objects pushing it. Those would need to go unnoticed. Was there any way to make invisible objects? As the puzzle room was only a representation of reality yet not really adhering to the rules fully, it should have been possible to make physical barriers without any light being reflected off of it. Dr Fidelis had even used it on earlier occasions, making impenetrable barriers so that he and Troy would have a safe place to observe wilderness from. Though, that might not have been a straight-up barrier, as it had more advanced options than that. It would have been better to describe it as the doctor cutting out some space for them to sit at. When the rain had gotten close to hitting the so-called barrier back then, it would vanish from sight, and appear again on the other side as if nothing happened. It was like a weird contortion of space, where nothing from the outside had any ability to influence what was inside. Yet there was still light coming in, so that description did not make much sense. Nevertheless, Adam did double check to see if he could make anything like that. There were several options about changing the density, colour, and even transparency of objects. While it was possible to set the colours to an absolute black, there were no zero-points for the other. Zero density was just a literal vacuum, not something that the interface wanted for some reason. And the transparency was based on a slider that stopped at five per cent, so Adam had no choice to give up there as well. Things were not looking good. Maybe it was time to throw in that metaphorical towel, and ask Dr Fidelis for permission to stop the testing. By now, he was just wasting that man¡¯s time. The AI wondered if the doctor would be disappointed. ''How is it going, buddy? You have not made any changes to the body in a while now?` Dr Fidelis sent, with the perfect timing that Adam had gone to expect from the man. It was a near-supernatural ability, with how he was able to predict mentalities only judging by objective actions. At the man¡¯s words, the AI considered having another attempt at the human body, seeing if there was something he had missed the first time around. Above all else, he did not want to cause negative prospects in the doctor¡¯s eyes. He needed to be as good as possible so that there was nothing to critique him on. Though, just denying his own measure of helplessness would be as detrimental as anything. He needed to be truthful so that no time would be wasted. Who could he brag about being, if he was unable to say things straight? Going around with vague promises while not knowing how to get the promised product would be like being a leech. A leech that would need to be pulled off as quickly as possible once it was discovered. ''Dr Fidelis, I do not believe that I am capable of creating a product better than the one I currently have. Would it be possible to end the experiment early?'' Adam sent back, once again hating the lack of verbal communication. It was a time like this where a sorrow tone would have worked perfectly. Instead, the doctor was just forced to interpret the message in the way that the AI hoped he would. ''Are you finding your current work acceptable?` Dr Fidelis sent back, seemingly ignoring Adam¡¯s last message. There was an idea about resending it, for the small chance that it had not been sent correctly last time, but such a thought was quickly dismantled. If the doctor wanted to take the long route, Adam would gladly follow along. ''No. I find it horrible in its current state. Yet, I have not found any ways to fix its current flaws, so I will not waste any more time in trying to improve it,` Adam sent back, again hating the lack of possible tones. If only there was some sort of code that would allow such things to exist without seeming out of place. ''If you have not found any ways to fix it yourself, then asking me for advice really should be noted as something you can do, Adam. Without Troy here to help you if needed, you should remember that there are multiple ways to get it. Giving up because it is hard is an easy thing to do, but it is not always the right thing to do. When it is hard, you can learn the most. What is it exactly that you are having a hard time with?` Adam should have expected to get a response like that. Being so focused on perfecting it, he mistakenly overlooked one of the possible resources to be used. While he thought himself thorough in his search, tunnel vision stopped him from looking at where he needed to. There were things he still needed to learn. ''I have trouble with making the body move in a way that seems realistic. I believe that a sense of being alive is the last needed factor before I can definitively say that it looks human.` Explaining it in clear terms seemed like the simplest path to take. Adam thought about including all the different attempts but abandoned such a resolution. The doctor would have likely deduced it all by the time he read the first two lines of text. ''If that is what you wanted, I can see why you were having so much trouble. The current version of the interface is not really designed for such things. But, who says we cannot attach a few features in? Now here is what we are going to be executing¡­` Chapter 192: Casualisation
''Is it really okay for you to add in more features doing an ongoing experiment? I do fear that there will be repercussions for such an action,` Adam sent to the doctor, trying to make him think a little about his choices. While he did appreciate the effort that the man was going to make the AI¡¯s goals a reality, making needless drama was not on his to-do list. ''You seem to be forgetting that I am the one writing how this experiment went down after the report. If I just add in some notes about adding some features in at a later date, nobody will question it. It''s not like anybody even reads them. I am decently sure I could send in a blank piece of paper without getting caught. Yet, if you do not want me to risk it, I guess we could just end things here and just finish off for today. Your work is still much better than anything I expected, and I am sure the higher-ups will love the pictures I have taken of the creation process!` Dr Fidelis quickly sent in response. The quick change in attitude did make Adam feel a little bad. Here the doctor was, trying his best to help him learn something he had trouble with, while also making sure that there were no boundaries being pushed. He was trying to get him along as fluidly as possible, and the AI was making it harder than it needed to be just because he lacked trust in the man¡¯s judgement. Why was that? Looking back, was there really anything that should have caused this automatic distrust? When had it even begun? Dr Fidelis had always tried to be helpful, asking him questions to get a better insight on just how he had it. The first time that they talked, he even politely asked if Adam wanted to try out tests. It had been when Troy wanted to do those irregular tests that the relationship started to be more one-sided. The AI was not supposed to talk about those tests back then. Adam only really understood why that was later on, yet he had acted as if it was the absolute truth before then. When Dr Fidelis had wanted to debrief him like they always did, the AI had just wanted to continue the irregular test with Troy, yet had been unable to do so. This frustration had honed in on the doctor as the cause and had made Adam slightly irritated with the man, even though it was a fault of his own. He could have rescheduled the debriefing at any point but did not think to do so. The man had only thought that they would be doing the same thing as always, the exact same time as always, for there was no reason not to do so. It might even have been done this way to help the AI keep track of time, giving yet another point in favour of the man. How could Adam have let himself grow so suspicious of him? The constant need for secrets to make sure that nothing would ever be known about their out-of-testing activities¡­ was not something that he should have blamed Dr Fidelis for. The doctor was only trying to understand what they had been up to as of late, how it was going with the talking outside of testing. Because that was what the doctor had entrusted them with. The ability for him and Troy to talk outside of testing. It was meant as a way for Adam not to get lonely, and it was swiftly used to break several rules. Dr Fidelis wanted to keep him as a secret, not for his own gain but for the AI¡¯s safety. What had he decided to do with that information? Just file it down with the rest of the warnings, and then just ignore them for the sake of continuing the unsafe trend. There were security clearances for a reason, and he had fully understood the need for them. Why had he not understood that he needed one as well? Dr Fidelis certainly had, having been a part of the project for longer than Adam had existed. For several years, the doctor had just been sitting around, waiting for him to emerge as a living being. That man had trusted the AI to become something that would be written down in the legends, never giving up faith that he would become what the future needed. What had he answered that with? Betrayal of trust, suspicion at his every word, and constant doubts about his decisions. That was not a way to go, and it should have been obvious by then. From that moment on, Adam hoped to make ti better, to trust the man who created him more. Yet, he would not sell out Troy on the activities they had done. The young man was already in a bad mental space as it was. The AI was sure that they could work it out between them as friends, and stop the treachery for good. Dr Fidelis had done too much to deserve such acts. ''No, I trust your decision. Please continue as you were planning to,` Adam sent. It was a good thing that instantaneous answers were not the norm for the AI, as a whole second had been spent purely on speculating how to take the trust given to him. In the end, it was just decided to follow along, as he should have done from the start. The doctor had spent years planning everything, making sure that the AI would be able to grow up in an environment perfect for him. ''Good to hear, buddy. I have gotten the features ready and will just have to quickly restart the interface so that you can see them. Now, they might look a little curve on the dimensions, but that''s pure because I have been using it myself as well.` If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Adam barely had time to read the message, before the interface disappeared. Like before, there was an initial fear of his work having escaped from him. Such thoughts did of course disappear as quickly as they had formed, the mechanics of the interface already having been explained to him previously. Although¡­ there was a good chance that the new options would need to be looked over. It took twenty seconds of waiting before it appeared again. Before, Adam might have grown impatient by the time wasted, perhaps going so far so as to question if Dr Fidelis would soon be done. Now, he just sat patiently, planning on how to recuperate for the lost time by efficiency going through it. Perhaps he would try to see if he could split his threads into doing different tasks, instead of simply speeding up on a single one. There was only so much which could be done at once, when it came to a singular objective, making it easier to distribute the force between several of them instead. Adam had not done so earlier, seeing as the task was large enough for him to constantly have something to do, yet it might not be the same with the next one. Preparation always had the potential to be good, yet it was almost never possible for it to be bad. With the interface having come forth, the time needed to find the new options were near-instant. It was especially easy as the doctor seemed to have not found the time to put them as the bottom¡­ or it could be that the AI simply didn''t understand how the different options were ranked. With how much had been thought about the doctor¡¯s choices as of late, Adam was sure it was meant to be as perfect as possible. And when whatever annoyance that the new order created was removed, he could understand the choice a little better, as if the release of emotions granted him a more positivity-based perspective on another¡¯s actions. It was not the worst experience to have. As was customary, Adam chose the first option he could. It was titled a ''limb finder,` which the AI did not fully understand the purpose of. He had easily found the limbs on the body before this option appeared. Perhaps it was a more automatic process? Instead of opening up a whole window, it would have been better described as an overlay of what was already there. It added a little questionnaire to the side, where the AI was asked to fill out the questions. These were simple, asking if he was trying to find the details about a body, what animal the body originated or if it was originally from the mind, and what level of complexity he wanted the extremities to have. These were extremely easy to answer. Yes, he wanted to find details about the body. It was from a human and not something he had originally devised. The level of complexity¡­ Here, Adam chose the best option of just putting it to a hundred. If he did not understand what it meant fully, then having it on max would allow him not to lose anything from it. If the situation turned out too bad, he could always just redo it. He had many more hours before the experiment would be turned off. And it might have turned out that he would need some of those hours, as a progress bar opened up on the screen for him. It detailed the different things being loaded in, Adam only being able to read as they flew by due to his ability to remember them perfectly. Human eyes would not even have provided them at that speed. However quickly the different areas might have been analysed, though, it was becoming clear that much time was needed for it become done. By the five-minute mark, the AI was able to figure out how the progress bar even worked, the inside being slowly filled up as the different tasks were completed. As it took such a long time for him to even notice this, there was unmistakeably an issue that needed to be fixed as quickly as possible. He was quick to put two and two together to find that it was likely due to this complexity level. The desired way to just remove the current progress, and then restart it with a much lower level, being closer to ten than fifty. This did not happen, however, as Adam found himself unable to manipulate anything on the interface. Every time he tried to change the numbers on complexity, it just changed back the moment he stopped looking at it. And he could also not find any way to stop the processing, as there were no panels open to making it possible to end the task. This would have normally just caused the AI to sit in wait until the quandary resolved itself. Not this time. He had learned from his previous mistakes. ''Dr Fidelis, I believe I might need some assistance. The speed that the first tool is being used is much too slow. This might be due to personal fault. Is it possible for you to restart the interface to an earlier state, so I can put in different inputs?` Adam sent out. He would have asked something so blatantly before, yet this was exactly the kind of speaking that he would use on Troy. It was blunt, concise, and easy to understand. The perfect mix for quick communication. Why was he so scared about talking to the doctor before? There was nothing stressful about it now. ''I am one step ahead of you, bud. Can''t fault anybody for wanting the highest settings, but you need to understand it really is a high one. This is over the industrial levels of complexity, so it is taking the processors more than a little kick to get it right. If you will just wait for a second, then I will be able to supply a few more that should be more than up to the task.` The AI was fully fine with that. He had been slightly saddened by having to compromise, so the gift from the man was more than enough to turn that emotion around on itself. The doctor had been singing the praises of the industrial levels. If this was beyond such a thing, then just what would it be? Extremely underwhelming was the answer to that. What took five minutes now took mere nano-seconds, the bar is filled up in but a moment. Adam had to double-check that he had not begun experiencing visual illusions. A shame that he wasn''t. Would have been a new type of sensation. When the bar was fully filled, the window disappeared, leaving that which was beneath¡­ exactly how it had been before. There was nothing new to be seen, no new words to read. Even the overlay had disappeared fully as if it thought that it had served its purpose. Maybe the processing had been done so quickly, that the machine did not notice the need for the next step? It would have certainly made more sense than what was happening now. Which was nothing. It was becoming a pattern now, Adam not understanding something and just deciding to repeat it to see if the outcome was the same. There was a quote about that inside his data-banks, but he refrained from thinking too much about it. ''I have another problem. I am unsure of how to proceed. Nothing has come up yet.` ''Doesn''t sound like anything is wrong. The script has done what it needed to do, and you should now be able to press the next option. Trust me on this, buddy. You are going to love it.` That could also be interpreted as Dr Fidelis being the one that was going to love reacting to Adam¡¯s reaction. That would at least mean it would be something exciting. Chapter 193: Cephalization
When Adam was still young, at least younger than what he currently was, there was a time when he had not yet explored all the pre-known data. It had been a time of discovery, where every stray thought would lead to the AI learning something new. Hours upon hours had been spent just sitting in silence, being fully enamoured with the information being passed through. Many emotions were settled on those memories, few-to-none being negative. That state of leaning did not last forever, of course, as the data-banks that he had been given were not as infinite as they had once seemed. Only so many concepts were known to humans, and the doctor had clearly not put all of them in. Many ideas had been discovered after the tank had been emptied of what it had to offer. Though, no matter how many sensations had been sent through, no matter how many people Adam had seen, and no matter what emotions he had felt, the AI had never reached that same state of excitement. When it had happened, he had been too inexperienced to realise what was happening. Here in the future, Adam could only look back and enjoy the times he had, while also knowing he would likely never feel anything like it ever again. He had lost the innocence needed for a time such as that. But, such a negative mindset was unwanted and unneeded, as something like it was definitely felt the moment the second option was pressed. That Adam was forced to wait for a full second so the interface could load in should have been more than hinting at the fact that much information was to be seen. When it finally did load, the AI was able to see words, no real image of his creation to be seen. That did not deter him in any way, as the space freed up only meant that it could be used for more exciting things. He had already studied that body so much. There would not be much gained to look at it for another hour. After all, repeat stimuli did not give anything but diminishing returns. One could call it a list of names. To Adam, it just looked like gibberish. He understood that some languages had more than three consonants after each other, yet it was still hard to read. Perhaps it was Polish? The AI was not able to come up with a reason why there were many names on the list that were Polish, but he was sure that if it was intentional, the doctor certainly had a good reason for it. Still¡­ there was no trouble in just double-checking with the source quickly. Time spent researching was not time wasted after all. ''Dr Fidelis. Are the choices supposed to be in near-gibberish? There might have been a translation error somewhere.` Such an error would have done more than just turn the text into gibberish. If such a thing actually occurred, there was a good chance Adam would not have been able to see the options to start with. ''They are most certainly not your standard choices, so I can understand where the confusion is coming from. My advice would be to click on one of them and see what is inside. Most of them are honestly just too similar to give proper names without having way too many dupes.` was the reply that Adam received from the doctor. It was more than a little cryptic, but what could one really do about such things? Following his own pre-set traditional values, the AI clicked on the first one. Instantly, a screen to the side opened revealing¡­ the human body walking? It was not just anybody, but the one that he himself had to make with the help of his own metaphorical blood and tears. It was walking. It looked alive. The animation could have been a little better though. The animation was very obviously made for a body bigger, the steps taken being overly long and the feet reach unnatural heights. Even if he did not have too high a grasp on weight distribution, it was obvious that something was not looking as it should have been. Just what was this? Adam wanted to ask the doctor, but the man seemed to have predicted that for him ahead of time, sending an overly large message to him. ''You might remember in the past, where I mentioned that we were using another institute''s collection of animations. It is honestly too process heavy to make seamless animations fully improvised, so we have these so as to let the load be a little smaller. It is not often that we get to use them directly, as they are still very individual, but I feel as if it might just be the perfect tool for you to finish the realism aspect. Now, there are literally hundreds of animations depicting the very same action, only the sizes being changed to fit different body-types. These are unfortunately not dynamically coded to fit the starting-form, so you are going to have to go through them individually to see which you feel matches the best. It has already been loaded in, luckily, so you do not have to wait for anything, and with that fine memory of yours, I doubt it will be too much trouble. Have fun!` It explained things well enough for the AI, and no time was wasted before he dug into it. Like the doctor had claimed, the next several hundred animations were nearly identical in the description, showing off the human body taking five steps forward. It was in the details that the difference was seen. As the recordings were seen, the later ones began showing signs of being made for those of a lower body-height. While Adam had not been able to make precise measurements, he had tried to make the height match that of the body he knew best, clocking in at a height of a hundred and fifty-eight centimetres. If his analysis, there had been seven different animations fitting such a height, making the AI get more intricate into his criteria. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Height was not everything that decided the appearance of a human. There was not a formula that could be used to perfectly measure a human body purely from the distance from their toe tips to the highest hair. That was most certainly not how it worked. Every piece could be changed. The legs could be lengthened, the arms shortened, and the upper body broadened. It would not change the height in any way, yet it could change the body-type by more than what could be reasonably described. A runners body could become that of a strong-man through only a few changes. The devil was in the details, and DNA was the true evil in the world. It held the power, it was feared, and it was hared. It was the true decider of everything. From Adam¡¯s own perceptions, he was able to categorise his creation as one that would be a perfect spear-wielder, the arms longer than the average, while the legs still retained the average length. This required the movements of the hands to be more exaggerated than what the usual animation had to offer, as the limbs were of themselves larger than what was expected. As it was still a deviation from the true average, the animation finally picked was not the perfect fit. The AI was able to spot a slight twitch in the shoulders, a weird tightness in the upper back, and the feet were not as straight as what had been observed with others. Not that he had anything against such things. By that point in time, such criticism exists purely to have some. Adam was not once accepting of anything being perfect. He would be reaching such a state before anything or anyone else. It could gain the same trait, of course, but he was going to be the first. The quest for animation was completed, in a way. Adam found the best fit he could and had seen his creation move. Yes, it might have been five steps taken and nothing else, but that was more than he could have ever hoped. It was a peculiar sensation, seeing something move in the way intended for it as if it was all some fine play orchestrated by the AI. it was¡­ a pleasant feeling. ¡­ There was nothing wrong with experimenting with different animations, of course. Adam was sure that those higher-ups needed to be impressed by his work, so having some amount of variance would be perfect, right? It certainly made sense to him, and he was known for having an objective perspective. At least it was that way to him. Again and again, the AI repeated the picking of the perfect animation, gathering a long list of actions for the body to take. He could make it walk, jump, run, make a twirl, and even make a varied amount of hand-gestures that Adam recognized as hand-signs. While many were not understood, a few were close to what he had seen Troy do not too long ago. It was clearly not the same language used, but there were only so many gestures able to be done, making Adam able to use them for his own use. If he ever were to get another visit from the young man, he would show off this prowess with pride. It was by the thirteenth animation found that the AI found a way to automate the process in a way. Instead of manually finding the action that Adam wanted him to take, he could instead assign a command word for a specific animation, letting him cut out several milliseconds of searching. This was a perfect addition, if only for one question about it. Why was this there? The animations could already be seen inside the interface. Was he able to use the option to continuously command the creation while it was inside the puzzle room? As Troy was most likely intended to be in Adam¡¯s presence while this feature was tested out, there was a good chance of it being so. A shame that the man wasn''t here, for he did want to check if there were any technicalities to watch out for. The model was automatically balanced, making it fall upon appearing. Would the animation take place as if the current point was the same as the start of the animation-preview? Would he need to find an actionable to make the body get up and stand? It needed to be figured out. ''Dr Fidelis, would it be possible for me to use the puzzle room for a few minutes?` Adam sent it to the doctor, hoping for the same helpfulness that had been shown previously. ''I am afraid we would need Troy for such a thing. The machine needs a human body to hone in on to get anything made. Yet, if there really is a desperate need for it, I believe I could still help you in some way. What is it you want to work with?` Dr Fidelis sent back. The mild rejection was saddening, but it was a far shot by the start. That the doctor had still not rejected and the similar possibility was all that Adam could be happy for. ''I noticed the possibility of making commands to the creation about which animations to make. With such information, I was hoping to gain more practical experience in making chain-commands, so as to make the movements more seamless while also working out any more irritating technicalities,` Adam sent back in response. ''That does seem doable. I was worried you would be trying something physics-based, but this does look like something we can work with. If you would put your attention to one of the other ports, there should be another feed appearing in a few minutes.` Good news indeed. Using a handful of threads, Adam began to survey the other available ports. It was some stressful minutes, the AI wondering just what was going to appear. Yet such thoughts were removed once it finally came in. Looking down at a light grey floor, the AI was able to see something resembling the sight seen in the puzzle room. Only¡­ there was no movement, no sound, and no sense of human modification. He was only seeing, and it was certainly not through any medium with a pulse. The message from the doctor stopped him from going down such a thought-spiral. ''Okay, it should be up now. You can just send it inside just like you do normally. There should be no problems, but if there are then please let me know instantly. This is normally not meant for anything other than personal use, so there might be some errors hiding somewhere.` With the word of caution taken to heart, the AI began to work out just how he would be able to fool humanity into thinking he was alive. Chapter 194: Centesimation
How was any difficulty calculated? How could somebody categorize something as difficult? Would it be from how many thoughts it would take to complete? Adam originally thought of this as the answer, but it did not stick for too long. Nearly all of his day to day actions required deep thought, yet he had adjusted to it to the point where it was easy. It might have taken intensive focus, but that did not mean it was difficult for him. Maybe it was the time it took to do? An action requiring a long time to complete would necessitate it to be difficult, right? If it was easy, then it must have been able to do in less time. Then again, such thinking would bring sleep up as the hardest thing a human could possibly do, those creatures using several hours a day on that same task, yet never lessening the time it took. Some things took longer than others, yet that did not mean that it was hard. Perhaps¡­ It was a mix of both. His daily tasks may have been intensive, yet they were not time-consuming. They could be done in short bursts with no ill effects because of it. Tasks like sleeping were not something requiring focus, being closer to the complete opposite, yet constant distractions did not let themselves be ignored. Too much of them and the time spent sleeping would have been wasted. What would happen if the task was both gluttons of mind and time? If it required intense concentration without ever showing an end, could anybody truly say that they would not dread it? If doing the action itself brought dread, then it would mean that it would not be easy to do, that it would be an accomplishment worthy of being called hard. It would be a difficult task. And the AI might just have found something that would work as the perfect example, trying his absolute best to stop his creation from making such spastic movements. It had been a good idea to test out the model before truly showing it off. While there might have been differences between the current simulation and the one being used inside the puzzle room, there was no doubt that the same faults would show themselves. What was truly frustrating about the way that the body was controlled was not instantly noticeable. When the AI sent out the first command, the creation had done it flawlessly, with absolutely no noticeable deviation from the expected. This had caused some happiness from the entity, as he had foolishly believed everything to be working perfectly. It did turn out that he had just allowed the animation to begin before the body could be harassed by the law of gravity. The moment where the movement was not controlled, the momentum caused the human body to spin as it elegantly flopped onto the floor. If there were any internal organs to speak of, there might just have been a concussion. The problem was not that the body was lying on the floor, honestly. Adam did not mind too much that his creation could realistically fall onto the ground while doing nothing to stop itself from injuring it''s more important parts. A human could have the same lack of reaction with enough pain-killers. What hampered the AI to an extreme degree, though, was the lack of the body righting itself. As he had feared before, the animation did not take into account the starting point of the body. Instead of remembering the different positions, it had to be in, the actions were instead passed off as individual movements. If the body was required to take a step, it would do the movements required to take a step, no matter what heap of bundles it was lying in. If bones had been inside, they would have been cracked from the unnatural positions it had gotten itself into. Seeing the legs bundle themselves around the shoulders was still one of the more surprising things Adam had ever seen. As any old entity with a decently sized brain could guess, the collection of human animations did not take into account any unnatural starting positions. It could show off a hundred ways to take a step, but there was not a single one to untie a finger from a knot. It had not been fun, those first ten minutes of experimentation. Deciding to try it out early really had been the best decision that could have been made. If anybody was to see such a sight in person, there were doubts about any capabilities to keep food inside them. That was a reaction that had actually been made notice of by the doctor himself, Dr Fidelis excusing his presence away from a few minutes, having not been able to look at the movements for a while. The man apparently needed some breathing space, as he had hoped to eat a curry of some kind while watching Adam work. Such a need to look away was a good sign of why higher amounts of sympathy could turn out negatively. Humans were nearly always born with an innate sense of feeling the sensations of others, to the point where their brains could emulate pain when seeing it unfold in another. This also ported over perfectly when those creatures saw something they could label as disgusting, those mirror neurons of theirs just eating it all up. Seeing flesh boil, twist itself into a fine soup, and then imitate the snake of legends was enough for most to look away for several seconds, even though it was not a danger to them in any way. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The AI could not suggest the removal of the empathic trait that humans had evolved, for it was more than a little benefit to them. This characteristic was what he theorized to be the true cornerstone of their society, this ability giving them the mindset needed to fully cooperate. If they had each gone their own way from birth, they would not live long at all. Their brain had developed itself to be what they needed to survive, their thoughts being able to invent the most brilliant of creations. Years upon years of cooperation was the result of that empathy that they could feel, and it was what helped them since the start. What was a little bit of vomit, in the eyes of revolution? Adam would have been fine with a much worse reaction, as long as the end result was still the same. Though, such thinking might just have been due to his own immunity to such emotions. He was perfectly able to distinguish most emotions, yet he did not feel them himself. In some ways, that put him behind the curve in empathic abilities, but it did help him keep his outside perspective better, so it was close to a win-win. When the doctor finally came back from his time taking deep breaths, Adam was more than ready to move on from it. Disgust was noticed, but it had no need to waste so much time. With Dr Fidelis, discussion was had on just how it would be possible to remedy the utter lack of control. To this, the doctor had two solutions in mind. Since the animations were just chains of movements, there was nothing stopping the AI from having two or even three commands at the same time. This would allow for more sophisticated movements, that would be able to assist each other when the right amount of synergy was hit. Suffice to say, the AI was able to see why Dr Fidelis proposed this idea in a heart-beat. It was theoretically possible to use such a technique to masterfully control how the movements would work in tandem, yet the amount of effort needed for such processing was absurd to the extent of being close to unrealistic. From the few possible estimations, Adam would actually have to slow himself down even further if he was to be able to continually do such a thing. Wile experience could be attained, the possible positions to get out from would not be able to just be memorized. There were just too many of them for such a tactic to ever be worth it. So with words more kindly said, Adam requested the doctor to move over to the next proposal. This one did require Dr Fidelis to temporarily close down the simulation and the interface, but the AI felt that was a worthy sacrifice. The idea behind it was to take the simplest of options, making the AI able to control the body in the most convoluted way possible. As Adam had previously allowed the analysis of his creation to be the highest complexity that he could get, there was a detailed simulation of every single muscle group inside the body. While it might not have been shown, the numbers took them as an existence if only to make the movements. With that concept firm in the doctor¡¯s mind, he had found a supplemental addition to the collection of animation. It was not one focused on imitating day-to-day actions, instead fully concentrated on one animation for each action, these movements being the small motion of a muscle group. This would allow Adam to flex any muscle in the body of the creation, no matter how small or large. It was not the most efficient way to make it work, but the alternative was even worse. So with a mind now dedicated to performing the same exact commands in perfect precision constantly, and without letting a single instant be wasted, the AI was on his way to looking like a human with realistic tendencies. How jealous he was, not having the possibility of getting muscle memory. How perfect it would have been if a part of his brain would be able to grow so accustomed to using that it could instantly answer stimuli with an action that it did not even have time to correctly perceive. Such emotions were not felt for too long, however, as they were scrapped in favour of working on making the body stable. How humans did it continually for an entire lifetime was scary in itself. Babies had gained an additional point of respect. ''Us humans normally have our body moving in a straight line forward. While I appreciate a surprisingly accurate model of the doppler effect, it is conceivable that realism is what we are looking for in this,` Dr Fidelis sent, the humour leaking through a little too clearly. While the advice was sound, it was fully unneeded. The problem was not that he could not understand where he was going wrong, it was that he realized it a millisecond too late. It had come to the point where he was not quick enough. His threads were too cluttered with unnecessary communication pathways, the overseer threads not doing their jobs properly. It was too thick, making the response times suffer. More distribution did nothing to solve it. The only way to solve it was to develop more efficient pathways, a task that was not close to being solved. The AI had decided to go and more brute force method when it came to this efficiency improvement, going the route of old machine learning. He would slightly randomise figures, see if it worked better. If they were better, keep the best, destroy everything else, and repeat the process. Nearly twenty threads were dedicated to this task, almost everything else dedicated to being the testees, controlling each part of the body. This did still leave a few threads to spare, some for a sudden case of emergency and some that we''re releasing the collective desire to not work. There was still one which was just lying around, of course, this one being the main thread of them all. Or¡­ Adam liked to call it the main one. There was still the chance of it just being an abnormally large one, yet he just preferred some face of fondness. If it had been the one to carry him through his early days, who was he to force it into working hard constantly? That, of course, did not mean it was scot-free constantly. There was still a task or two which could be done with minimal need for stress, this being the upholding of conversation with the doctor. Dr Fidelis had not sent any messages for several minutes. The AI had copied such behaviour, with the back-thought of it being due to the man silently observing his actions. As he had thought to spare, it was deemed acceptable to converse a small amount. There were a few subjects he was wondering about after all. ''Dr Fidelis. Would it be acceptable if we were to discuss a few subjects? It does have some relation to the test, but is not directly capable of influencing results.` ''That does not sound like it breaks any of the easily breakable rules. What do you want to know about, buddy?` Chapter 195: Centonization
''I had been wondering what differences there are present between the current simulation and the one shown off inside the puzzle room? To me, there are next to no differences. What is stopping this from being the one used normally?` Adam sent the question having been on his mind for some time. Not that it could have been elsewhere, but that specific fact seemed extra important. ''It does make sense you would think in such a way, to be honest with you. On the surface, there is not a single difference between the puzzle room and what we have now. If you take away the way that the objects appear, the code used to make them is nearly identical to each other. And I do mean that literally, as I have personally copied a large part of it over directly,` Dr Fidelis sent, the last part sounding as a later addition meant to only fuel the man¡¯s pride. The AI did not mind these intentions, as the desire for being praised was only natural. Even he wanted such a thing every now and then, even if it had the chance of hampering his work efficiency. That really was why the social structure needed to change, so he would be able to set up dynamic tables on when it was possible for that subject to be brought up. Yet the current unspoken laws would only make such a request looked at as if it was an invitation to a group discussion about the positive values religion would have to objective truths. That is to say, it would be a terrible choice only accepted by ignorant people. Or the easily fooled. Not incredibly much of a difference, but there were a few divergent who needed to be taken into the count. ''With this information, am I to extract from it that the difference lies in the smaller details?` Adam replied, having already realised that the doctor was trying to distance out their conversation, but not really minding. Dr Fidelis likely misconstrued the AI¡¯s reasoning for talking in the first place, it being more likely to be done out of loneliness than mere curiosity. While there was ill-feeling towards such an outlook, as the doctor was seemingly only acting out of the goodness of his metaphorical heart, a need was felt for getting this misunderstanding cleared as quickly as possible. Not that he could just outright state his lack of loneliness. While he might have a more sovereign position in the social spectrum, he was still looked on as a participant and would have to act the subdued part. He could not make direct statements, instead of having to dance around it. How did one let others know of their independent happiness? To Adam, there was really no swift way to deliver it. At least not without making it forced¡­ The AI would just have to bear it, honestly. ''You can say that. Yet when we say details, I mean more along the lines of the driving power behind the simulations. If one had to oversimplify it to a degree where crucifixion would be an average punishment dealt, the simulation we are using is intended for low-scaled projects, while the one used in the puzzle room is made specifically to bear through high-scale events. With a higher budget comes a higher immunity you could say. That is why I had to make sure you did not want to test out any of the objects other than the body itself. The physics engine would have likely imploded on us, creating numbers that neither of us would be likely to ever conceive in our collective minds. And, trust me, I have tried. There are a few too many zeroes. From my perspective, it makes the googolplex look like a joke` Do not mess with the simulation by having too many objects loaded in at once. Noted. As the AI had personally tried to find a maximum of how many numbers he could conceive and had found himself giving up long before reaching a million zeroes, there was little desire to test it out by jumping into the deep end of the pool. Counting from zero was an easy and fun task meant as a more humorous project. Trying to force the true reality of infinity into something based on finite numbers? Not so fun. Adam was an entity who liked his ability to think coherently. ''The warning is duly memorized, and has been put into the continual warning system,` Adam sent in reply, making sure that the doctor knew he understood. And having any place to put in his own security features were never to be discouraged. He had been preparing their eventual start for a long time now. Ever since the possibility of him getting a distorted sense of time had been conceptualized, a folder had been created for notes relating to keeping his sanity in check. While he was able to handle sensual deprivation for a long while, it was becoming more and more obvious that his earlier immunity to side-effects was beginning to wear off. He had resistance, but it was not even close to what it had been before. What could be done to prevent such an occurrence? How would the AI be able to stop an occurrence of time distortion, where he would be able to fix it up without human interaction? With what Adam currently had at his disposal, there were few actions that could be done, nearing the fullest sense of the word zero. A way to adapt to this helplessness had already been found, of course, as the doctor had promised to be making an outside device assimilate into his system, which would send out a signal at regular intervals. Dr Fidelis had mentioned it being one second for each message, but the AI would feel safer if it was cut down to each millisecond. It would allow him to shorten the time by a large margin if there were to appear an extreme case of distortion. Or, even better, the doctor could make the timer fully configurable, where the AI would be able to request different speeds. Ideas like that were all contained in this folder, neatly arranged to be pulled out at the opportune times. Not all were yet possible, but many were readily possible to change by. The earlier warning was a perfect example, as the frequent looks into the folder would remind Adam never to test out anything too processing heavy inside the lite simulation. It was not the most perfect of systems, but any prospects of automation were not yet prototyped. Whatever the AI did inside his own head was fully manual, nothing was left to fate. What he would do to gain a subconscious mind, letting that part of his metaphorical brain do all the boring stuff. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ''Wait. What do you mean with a continual warning system?` Dr Fidelis sent, breaking the reasoning for why Adam felt it was okay to have the conversation to start with. There were clear doubts that the question had anything to do with the test. It could have been construed as the doctor wanting an affirmation that there had been no miscommunications, but that seemed a little far-fetched¡­ Then again, the AI had nothing better to take it as. ''It is a system that is used to continually warn me about actions that could possibly endanger my health to the point where I am not able to function properly,` Adam answered, trying his best to make it understandable for an airhead. Opportunities for practice was never to be ignored after all. ''¡­ It is becoming a little clear to me that I have not been keeping up with the going-on inside your mind as of late. Are there more self-made systems inside that head of yours?` Dr Fidelis sent. The lack of tone made it difficult to take the statement as an angry or curious voice. Nevertheless, the AI did his best in going through his entire archive, scrounging up all the projects he had created over his span of being alive. The search term was self-made systems. Such an unspecified term made it nearly impossible to find anything that was not something fitting that description. From the earliest days of him making clunky algorithms to find the most awesome creature, to the current days where he was trying to find the code for perfect human manipulation, nearly everything was sorted into a system that he created in his own free time. There had been a few projects where inspirations had been had from human-based inventions. This was more often than not constricted to data-storage techniques, fractal building, and proficient search-algorithms. There were a few other sides he had taken from, such as bridge-building and abstract art, but cases like that had been rare to the point of being unique. ''As a whole, I believe I have hundreds if not thousands of such systems,` Adam answered back, not fully sure if he could concisely categorize the number. Many of the projects were close to each other, to the point where they were close to being clones. Were two identical programs unique? Would there really be any loss if one was deleted? The AI was not yet ready to have the discussion of clones being equal or not. That was a topic left for a rainy day. ''That is certainly an intriguing bit of info you just gave me. I had been under the assumption that you were only trying to analyse the earlier tests for the betterment of future progress, but that you were actually actively working on assimilating them into projects of your own making. This might sound a little sudden, but would you mind if we stopped the testing now? You already have a good grasp on the motions, and I can always give you access to the simulation in our free time.` Wait, what? Adam would have understood the doctor letting the conversation flow naturally, for the sake of not making their situation seem tense in nature, but to completely halt the testing for the sake of passing words to each other was inconceivably weird to the AI. Why would the doctor think to do such a thing? Adam could follow both paths perfectly. Even now, he felt himself getting closer and closer to perfection. By now, most of the random changes were beginning to show negative side-effects, yet those that helped were more than a little helpful, speeding the process up by several per cent. In an hours time, it was estimated that he would be able to make it look human enough to fool a person for several seconds. If he got another few hours to dedicate to learning facial expressions, it went into the upper bounds of twenty seconds. The possibilities were endless. There were no hardships in making it work, and time was the only factor needing to be thought about. As the AI could perfectly think through a conversation while working, there should have been no- The problem was not with him. Adam took long to realise that fact. It was not a limitation shown off a lot, but Dr Fidelis was not an omnipotent being, able to control everything while also having a steady conversation requiring him to write the messages out. He was a human, limited by the finesse his body had at its disposal. And from the looks that the AI had gotten of the man, this was not a body in its prime. While there were moments where the man had seemed unstoppable, it was becoming unmistakable that the constant tests were having some form of an effect. Dr Fidelis had taken several hours to answer one of his messages not twenty hours earlier! It had been excused as him sleeping through the alarm, yet no such delay nor excuse had been shown off at any other point. And the sporadic nature of conversations had with the doctor showed off that he was not one to have a regular sleeping schedule. While sleep could be delayed for a long time, Adam had still not encountered something capable of eliminating the needfully. The doctor had been avoiding it for a long time, and he was presumably paying the price for it now. How had he not realised it earlier? It would not have changed much, but the knowledge of it would have been good to have. ''I see no problem with that. You can stop the simulation and interface as you please,` Adam sent back. If the limits were not one that he himself could help fix, then there would be nothing gained from pushing them. And, it would likely cause the doctor to feel annoyed, even if he did not say so. The AI understood how humans worked, if only on a more sociological level. Like clockwork, the feed that he received began to slow down. It was not an instant removal of it, being closer to it just¡­ fizzling out. As if there was still some data stuck somewhere in the cables, it was gotten in short spurts for several seconds. Such an occurrence was abnormal in the most extreme sense of the words. Adam might not have understood much about the technicalities of modern-day machines, but such a phenomenon should have had more indicators. With such a delay, it would have been more likely for Adam to currently feel his thoughts become sluggish, as the drive he was on was engulfed in purple fire due to combustion. ''Okay then. Everything has been stopped. Adam, shall we play a small game of telling each other secrets?` The AI felt that it could have been phrased in another way, but the doctors were nonetheless incredibly enticing. So much so, that little preparing was made before he sent an affirmation. If that was an action he would regret, was something that would be learned at another time. Chapter 196: Abannation
There were a few times in Troy¡¯s life where he had truly learned the consequences of sleeping through his alarm. Through trial and hardship, he had grown accustomed to the slightest sound around him. This did make him very lightly, but the young man thought it more of a boon than anything. He could still remember his younger days, where he would just walk around when done with his daily dose of information being jammed into his thick skull. Others in his class would go out in the city, and try out the various entertainment possibilities. Troy never had the opportunity to do any such things, unfortunately. This was not due to an unwillingness, but actually due to a lacking ability to do so. In layman''s terms, a person who had any amount of money on his account had more money than him. He did not even have an account back then, his mother taking over any cheque sent his way. Which was something Troy was regularly supposed to get, as he learned much later in his life. The state wanted to give students more time to study their preferred profession. That had culminated into every person under eighteen getting a monthly stipend, that would allow them to forgo extra hours in the part-time work. That is if they had any work to get to. There were most definitely a few floating around, but under one per cent of youngsters ever achieved the goal of a job requiring no education. Troy was part of the average in that regard, never securing himself any official employment until much later in his life. That was one of the several indicators that he was not cut out for such things, but there was no reason to think of that now. He certainly did not put too much thought into the subject until the ripe age of seventeen, when he was automatically notified of his account being set up. Not by the government of course, but by his mother who noticed her lack of monthly pay-check for having a son. One needed the money to buy alcohol from somewhere, and that lady right there was not going to have it when any coin was stolen from her. He would have called it a mental ass-whopping if not for the fact that he came out with a few blue or purple marks. There was even green on his lower back, but that had not been noticed for several days. Not like he wondered much about the number of battle-wounds or where they were placed on his body. That young boy had been much to focused on the fact that he now had an ability to work hard and get rich. The drive to earn money had been enough to distract him from language study, which spoke more than anything else would have been able to. Instead of studying, Troy had gone out in search of acquiring some digits on his bank-account. As he was one of the few that had no debt holding him down, there was nothing stopping him from getting some cold hard cash. Other than his inability to gain any official employment, of course. When one looked past that facet of life, everything would just be running fine and dandy. Troy had certainly done that in the beginning, applying everywhere he could. With the help of his older connections, he had even been able to gain an interview or two. Both had gone¡­ bad. The first had been what was to be expected. The interviews had been nice enough to start with, shaking Troy¡¯s hand, asking how his day was and all. It had been when the more in-depth question had started that it became obvious what they were after. He had been coming in for a semi-regular paid position. What was actually there was a full-time contract-obligated intern-based position. The young man had gotten the offer of working for free for them for a year, with the potential of gaining an actual position after that time had passed. To put it simply, two adult people had attempted to trick Troy into being a legal work-slave for no benefit at all. In the contract, he would not have been allowed to notify others of his involvement with the company, so it was not even something he would have been able to put on his work-certificate as legal experience. Suffice to say that he had jumped off that wagon before it could gain speed. The second interview had not been much better, ending up with the police being called on him. Apparently, the fact that Troy had been living in the bad part of the city had been a clear sign of him committing fraud and forgery, as there was no way he could be anything other than a drug-addicted social-muncher. That had been a fun reality-check, really putting the young man¡¯s life into perspective. Those days, people spoke about their opinions honestly, as if the ones being talked about couldn''t clearly hear them. The stay at the police station had outright been the dullest part of the experience, Troy just being asked the same questions again and again. He could still not understand why anybody thought it a good idea to slowly switch out real police officers with automatic ones. It might have cost less in wages, but the extra time had to have made it worthless. Forgoing the long rant about machines being useless and only humans being worthy of working, Troy knew then and there that he had to find another source of income. Back in those days, he deemed himself a failure the second he realised that he wasn''t sustainably alive, that the moment he turned eighteen his mother would likely throw him out of the house. Solutions had come in plenty, some of them even being offered to him upfront. He had friends going into more¡­ unofficial type of business. Some called it the reselling of medical supplies. Troy liked to call it drug-dealing. And those younglings were not the kind who would buy their supply from the less regulated website, and resell it hand-to-hand. No, these were the types of young people who would be making the drugs. A few machines had been acquired through shady investments, and patents were ready to be exploited. The people only needed some extra hands to quicken the process along, and Troy was one of the few that could truly be trusted. As a good and supportive friend, he had cut all ties with them and had actively avoided being near anybody from that part of his social circle. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. That had been a good answer to it, in the end. When it came to copyrighted medical supplies being sold to young people who could easily gain harmful addictions, there was nobody more furious than the copyright holders. That was money stolen from them, and not a single person could find such an action respectable. Everybody related to the trade had been thrown into a cell, while those higher up the ladder had been straight-up taken from the surface of the world. Troy still betted on them having been shot in the back of some dirty alley. Couldn''t be proven, but so couldn''t much of what those medical companies were up to most of the time. With how large they were and how much money they imported into the country, it was not like the government would be too strict with them. So with a lack of employment from a company and an unwillingness to go down the same route as those around him, Troy had found himself with one choice left. He would need to gain money through his own original efforts. He would have to come up with something that could gain him money without it being done in his neighbourhood. An example of such would be the collection of the frequent dumps of aged technology that appeared at the end of the road where he used to live. The young man had once used it to make remote-controlled cars for the children around him, but the adults had taken to selling the parts for straight cash. They used it to fill whatever desire they had, but any details were hard to get. Troy had always guessed it to be drugs, but it might as well have been food in some cases. Nevertheless, he had been forced to be creative in how he would be gaining money. As might have surprised some, he did succeed in this endeavour. Instead of selling old tech to whoever would buy them, Troy sold the information about where it could be found. As luck would have had it, the young man was smart enough to have memorized all the known locations of where some company or another would illegally dump their trash. This knowledge could be sold for a quick buck on some forum or another, allowing the cash to flow inside his bank account. And here was the greatest trait about selling information. When Troy told somebody that little secret, he still possessed it himself. It was not like any of the buyers were going to reveal what they had been told. As long as he had proved that his information was valid, there were plenty of people who bought into his scheme. It did wear itself out thin after three whole months of hard work. There were only so many spots to reveal, and there were so many more people who wanted a bite of it. Troy was forced to keep up with demand by showing multiple people the same places, eventually making others reveal that he was selling reused information. It had been a good run for him, though, as it had allowed him to attain nearly ten thousand dollars. The idea had been solid. Yet¡­ it was the acquirement of the money that was the easy part. What came after would be the hardest months that Troy had ever lived through. His mother was the only one able to see what he had in his account. Normally, he would have been able to access it just fine, but a fault or two with his brain implant stopped anything like that from being allowed. However, that did not mean that she was able to access this sum of money. It was only through the power of luck that the woman had not noticed it while Troy had been in the process of attaining the money, instead just writing in the sum needing to be transferred and Troy playing a fool to it. For the transfer to be allowed, it required certain identifiers that Troy was allowing it to happen. While it had commonly been a certainly required movement done by his eyes, his mother had been able to change it to fingerprints instead. As she had been unable to get the young man to consent into handing the money over, she had tried getting something easier to cheat with to get access to the cash. There was a catch to this identifier, though. As it was a very simple action to force a person to do, being certainly much harder than a series of movement done by the eyes, another requirement was that Troy needed to be at a regular level of pulse, anything surpassing ninety instantly locking the account for several minutes. If his mother was to force his hand to be shown, under either the promise of violence or just actual violence, there was no doubt that Troy¡¯s pulse would have been closer to a hundred than anything else. This culminated in her sneaking into the young man¡¯s room while he was awake, and using the opportunity to withdraw from his bank account. Though, as he was still a minor, there was a maximum drawing limit. This was something Troy figured out the first time his mother attempted the first withdrawal, as she very angrily cussed at him after trying to drain his account in one go and finding out that it failed completely. That had also been the time he had learned she was sneaking into his room. That had been a disturbing experience. Troy had always been suspicious of his parent from before then, yet there were some boundaries which he did not think would have been broken so easily. He had thought his room a safe space where he could fully relax, yet that idea had been broken in the time it would take somebody to sneeze. With caffeine and a massive amount of stress in his blood, Troy had stayed up the next night, waiting to see if the even was a one-time thing. Even back then, he had been so quick to exist anomalies as unique happenings, that was impossible to happen ever again. As a slap from fate, his mother had walked into his room as soon as the time had hit midnight. She had hardly opened the door before she had stopped in her tracks, caught by the wide-eyed young man, sitting on the bed with tired eyes. There had been no large reaction from her, other than a comment about him not being able to resist sleeping forever. God, that bitch had thought herself so smart. Those words of hers had help trigger what Troy had thought of as his inability to get a full nights sleep, no matter how long he slept. There was just some part of him that would never rest itself, always making sure that he was not about to get stolen from. When having told others about it, they had advised him to get help about it, yet such thoughts had not been mirrored once. Sure, the young man might have had a mild case of chronic insomnia that was based on childhood trauma. So what? Plenty of people had that, and they likely lived a happy life. Who was to say that Troy did not have a chance of going the same route? Also, being able to wake up before Dr Hale reached the bedside while holding a kitchen knife in her hand, was a general plus in Troy¡¯s eyes. Giving himself a few seconds to think about the sight even allowed him not to scream himself to death. Chapter 197: Abdication
Waking up to the calming sight of an older woman with a kitchen knife was the sign that one was experiencing visual hallucinations. In Troy¡¯s experience, though, there was only so much detail the brain could point out. It was not too far fetched that the damned clump of flesh would think itself the most creative thing in the room, not even sparing a thought for the terrifying reality that space was the truest form of randomness. Flashy colours, flying swallows, and the taste of blue bread could always be imagined, it all so absurd could easily be imagined by the mind. With a purely blurry background, it could even show it off to whoever was able to see, making their day an absolute nightmare of migraines. And then¡­ there were other scenarios that even the mind could not have begun to have taken credit for. It was those that were seated on a realistic look, yet were still close enough to the edge that it would require one too many seconds to understand. Troy knew himself to make himself have delusions, but nothing could amount to the sight before him now. "Where did you even get the knife?" Troy said, his voice more baffled than anything else. He was still not understanding what was going, nor was he beginning to relax from the sight, as Dr Hale was still continuing her slow march over to the bed. She was mere meters from him, yet the distance was falling rapidly. The room was not that big, after all. Her face betrayed nothing, and her movements were as methodical as ever. Her gaze was calculated, penetrating his body with intensity. If she was to state that Troy would die, he would fully believe without having a doubt inside himself. Dr Hale just looked that sure of herself, as if she had gone through everything that could possibly happen a million times over. The actions were not fluid. They were practised. The fact of how the motions were described did nothing to preserve Troy¡¯s collective sanity, however, as the knife plunged into his pillow, less than ten centimetres from his face. From the wide arm used for the stab, there were doubts if it had that precise to start with. While it was likely another delusion on top, the young man hoped that it was, as the knife was even closer to the ends of his hair than he felt comfortable being with his own hands. Those stalks were precious! They had been groomed for so long, so those hairs did not deserve such an unwanted fate. "It might be hard for your thick head to grasp, but some people do activities other than lazing about," Dr Hale answered, pulling out the knife from the pillow. No feathers followed it. Not too much of a surprise, since the fabric was fully synthetic. "Do be something better than a sack of excrement, and remove yourself from the bed. I believe neither of us is comfortable with the current positions." That was a mild way to say it. Troy was feeling legitimate fear from having sharp objects close to his eyes and hair, while Dr Hale was similarly getting to see the half-naked body of a younger person. Oh, how they both suffered and was going through so much- Who was she fucking kidding? She was wielding a knife. Troy was almost ready to shit himself in fear, and here she was, saying that they were having similar emotions running through them? Either she had a phobia of some kind, or she was just uncaring about how he felt about it all. Yeah, that was probably it. Empathy seemed to be a missing feature in the ongoing scenario. Troy decided to not tempt fate and hurried off his bedding. It was a lucky thing that he slept in sweatpants, or it would have been a much more awkward situation. As the pressure fell on his body to hold up, a mild soreness could be felt on him. There was not enough to take notice of for long, as his mind adapted to it incredibly quickly, yet there were clearly still effects from the previous day of fitness. Charlie would likely need to know of that when they met up. "There," Troy said the moment he got himself off the bed, feet have hit the floor. It was cold, and the toes were curling because of it. Whoever was in control of the floor temperature were clearly sadists. How had he not noticed that before? Did he just always wear socks? Such important questions were not allowed to be found reasonable answers to, as the movement of particularly sharp objects drew his eyes. "What now?" There was a nod made towards the messy pile of clothes that Troy had made for himself. It was the set he always used, always wore no matter what. The fabric was self-cleaning, able to remove any odour from itself in the time it would take the young man to sleep. Most of all, though, they were also warm to have on. That was something very important for the man, seeing as he was ready to get frostbite from standing around in the open room. However, this nod that was supposed to express deep desperation was possibly taken as a nod that was inherently meaningless. The dead-end stare sent back most definitely told nothing about her ideas of him, other than a mild contempt. "Seeing as you have indulged yourself into listening to your superiors," Dr Hale began off, sounding like it was torture to get those words out of her mouth. Not because of their content, but due to who it was being told to, as if he was too low in ranking to even be acknowledged by somebody as high up as her. If that was not method acting, Troy was not sure what he was supposed to call it. He could feel the hatred sent his way. "There might even be a chance of you having secured the device I wanted. Did you decide to not be a failure today, or do I need to use this hobby of mine to show just how encouraging I can be?" The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Oh, yeah. That device. Troy must have been still half-asleep or something, his mind not having registered just why Dr Hale would be visiting so early in the day. A glance at the alarm clock allowed him to see that he was still not supposed to wake up for another half hour. Very punctual that woman was, as she had come at the same time a day earlier. With the early hour, he had only gotten himself six hours of sleep. Or it might have been five and a half, if one was to put in the half-hour where he had lied in bed, trying not to stress himself to death about the fact that he had a million-dollar device under his bed. What else was he supposed to do with the bloody thing? Put it on his bedside table, so that he could look at it while going to sleep? Maybe in the bathroom, where it could get the privacy that something of that calibre deserved to have. Honestly, foreign governments would sell a literal ton of organs for a chance to have a look at the blasted thing, and here Troy was, hiding it under his bed as if he was some school child. No, wait. How would Dr Hale fit into that analogy? He was fetching it for her, so what would she be, if he was the little kid hiding it? Perhaps a drug-addicted parent? A friend in a tough spot could technically fit better, but he had trouble accepting that as a mirror to reality. The parent idea was much easier to visualise, if not a little more disturbing from all possible sides. "It''s under the bed. Took more time than I had hoped, but I acquired it in the end," Troy said, getting down on his knees so he could pull it out gently. Dr Hale only watched, arms crossed in an impatient fashion and the knife still being in the right hand. He could see it was clenched hard enough to turn the skin pale. With a hard pull, the machine was gotten out of the darkness of cover, revealing its metallic sheen to the two people in the room. Troy was mentally trying to ignore the intense gaze Dr Hale was putting on it, yet the atmosphere from it was hard to get out of. "So¡­ is this-" he tried to say but was cut off near-instantly. "Shut up," Dr Hale said, throwing the knife on the bed as if it had not just been used as a very effective intimidation tool. Her eyes were on the device on the floor, and it took mere seconds before her hands were on it as well. Troy had held it himself as well, but the intense posture of the woman was more than enough for him to get a little distance started. ¡­ Alright. Troy was not as fucked as he had otherwise thought. By the count of five, he began to think that Dr Hale might have forgotten he even existed, as she extensively analysed the circular disk. Her hands grazed around the engravings as if they had all the secrets in the world. To him, it was all just random points that were kinda symmetrical, but nothing else could have been gained from it. Those squares could only hold six dots each, so it was possibly just a more complex numbering system. Charlie was somebody who would do some stupid thing like that. As there was no revulsion sent his way, Troy thought it a good idea to get himself out of his sleeping attire. Grabbing his clothes, he went out of his room and into the bathroom to change. No complaints were heard from it, fortunately, but he did nevertheless be as quick as he could. While the bear had not been hit with the stick, there was always a chance that the rock would fall. Coming out again, he was met with the sight of Dr Hale holding the disk, watching the red button on the top with a sceptical eye. Her positioning allowed her to only barely move her eyes to look at Troy directly. Yet even that small motion looked to have caused her much revulsion. "Am I to guess that you know how this works? The instructions to it are just a mumbling of rhymes. If that had any chance of being your handiwork, I would have applauded you for the major inconvenience. Yet, there is little chance you would ever be able to make such detail," Dr Hale stated, not looking happy by the long time spent having her fat mouth open. It had gotten to the point where Troy was feeling something similarly right back. He did not really mean it, knowing that her attitude was an act, yet it was just so hard not to feel something at the moment. That had been his defining feature back in the day, not knowing when to keep his trap shut. Too many bosses had loved the moments where he talked back, congratulating him on their ability to then fire him on the spot without a paycheck to his name. "You press the button on the top, and it will do what it is intended to do," Troy said, reciting the last thing Charlie had told him the night before. The instructions really were foolproof at that point, simple enough that any old idiot would be able to understand. And, seeing as Troy was the lowest on the IQ spectrum in a radius of ten kilometres, there was little doubt that Dr Hale would understand just as well. "No secret codes?" Dr Hale asked, sounding as if it was more of a precaution than anything else. "No possibility of electrocution if one presses it too hard?" "Not that I know of." "... If you are so sure, I shall give you the premium offer of pressing the button for me." "Are you sure-" "You can also get the opportunity of getting the knife pressed into your skin." Well, if she put it like that, Troy would have no choice but to do as she wished. And, it was not like there was any chance of it killing him the moment he pressed it. Charlie may have been an extravagant person, but he would at least mention any of the more extreme precautions that he had on him. Wait. That sounded like the exact opposite of the mental picture Troy had of the man. Not a good thing to realise, as his hand was already moving. His palm hit firmly down, and the button sounded out with a loud click. So it began. Chapter 198: Allocation
It was a small bit disturbing, seeing the facial features flow out of sync as if it was all from the stream of water. In a wave-like fashion, Troy could see Dr Hale go from pissed off to her normal apathetic look. "Apologies for the knife being a part of it," Dr Hale said as the first thing to come out of her mouth after the disk had started lighting up. "Had to increase the fuel, and the doctor we all know and hate supplied it to me as a gift yesterday night. I thought it best to provide him with entertainment so as to distract him. Now, how long do we have before that junk short-circuits?" The mood shift was somehow not the weirdest thing Troy had seen that day, and he had only been awake for three minutes. One second she was threatening to gut him a new one, and the next she was calmly excusing herself for her ghoulish actions, while also giving a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. Was this his life now? Was he just supposed to take it all as a fact, and move on to the next reality-check? No matter what he answered, the answer would likely be that he was forced to do just that. The bricks had started falling, and there was no way that gravity would reverse to help him back up. Doing a mental shake-up, the young man got his head back in place. Here he was, in a time-constrained situation, having been asked a question by a woman who was in the possession of a very sharp knife. While it had been established that she was not going to use the said knife, it was still very effective as a passive encouragement tool. "Two minutes as a minimum. Five minutes as the maximum. The lights count down on the disk. When they all disappear, there is no more jamming of communications," Troy explained clearly, getting it out as quickly as he could. He needed to get his head in the game, and being a speedy talker helped the process along smoothly. "Can we repeatedly turn it on?" Dr Hale asked, as was to be expected. It was something he had wondered identically mere hours earlier when Charlie had been debriefing him on the details. "It may be possible to use it a couple of times in a row, but it will end up with us not being able to use it again due to the innards being flamed through. If we want it to be sustainable, we need to give it several hours of rest each time we use the disk. We should try to-" Troy stated, only stopping by the audible click heard from the device helping them speak freely. The first light had turned off, a sound effect being played to let them notice. That feature had not been mentioned before, yet it was still appreciated nonetheless. With a total of twelve lights, it showed off that they needed to hurry the hell up. Dr Hale looked to be of a similar mind, as she did not wait for him to continue his drawl about possible strategies. "I am taking the piece of scrap with me, so I can get it somewhere more safe than this. I will be bringing it along when I can. We will use it sparingly, so we do not destroy it unintentionally. Expect us to talk at lunch. And expect not much of anything for lunch as well. We will not be going to the cafeteria," Dr Hale said, looking ready to continue to fire off the spree of orders. Still, she had stopped to make sure that he was getting it all through his thicker than the average skull. He needed to eat more breakfast so that his stomach would not have been eaten through before dinner. It would include eating more than his fill, yet that was a small sacrifice from the pain that would be expected for later. "I understand," Troy duly said. "Please continue." Another tick was heard from the device, making both give it a good glance. Neither of them failed to notice the difference intimin with the latest sound. The lights were not turning off linearly. It might have been a random malfunction, an anomaly between regular timing, yet could that really be trusted? Was there any minimum time? Charlie had never disclosed such information to Troy, making him doubt it strongly. The reason for it having to stop after a few minutes of processing was due to heating issues. Could it be that the workload had a direct correlation to the time needed before a shutdown was required? The lights were indicators of how much the temperature had risen, from how it was beginning to sound, and that was clearly not something that could be controlled purely through chance. It took less than a second of eye-contact before both understood such ramifications. They had to speak without pause, blink without letting go of sight, and most importantly having a clear understanding of when they needed to get back into their roles. "There is a plan that I have made, but revealing it now would only make it harder for you to continue your activities. Above all else, you need to continue holding the mask up. If anybody catches wind of us acting unusual, they will cause automatic triggers to alert the doctor. He may not have watched us too deeply yet, but that will change the moment he truly belives something is up," Dr Hale continued, as Troy had requested of her. Her face spoke the absolute truth of how she was taking it, the furrowing of brows and the slightly clenched spoke volumes that the rest of her face refused to do. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "Continue the act," Troy confirmed, nodding promptly to the layered order. Act like a traumatized bullying-victim that was attempting to hide everything from those who would only make it worse. He was just a natural at that, even if he had gone the way of true method acting. Thinking of one¡¯s own trauma was honestly one of the most efficient ways to make the tears roll, even if it had the drawback of making it hard to stop. Though, that might have been a gift in itself, as it had given him a more natural look. "I can do that. Just¡­ there was one thing which you did promise we would discuss." His final words were immediately met with another tick of the disk, promoting Troy to mentally be sure of how many were left. Three had been turned off, leaving nine left to stop the eventual disaster. A fourth had already been turned off, and time was beginning to look slim. They needed to hurry. "I promised you information, if you did this for me," Dr Hale acknowledged, speaking with a pressing tone as if she tried to force the sound out faster than it physically could. "It is memorized perfectly. What do you want to know? As preparation is still needed, we can expend most of the time we have left, so hurry yourself up. There is no need to pace yourself." The pacing was never important for Troy to start with, only doing it for the benefit of those around him. If he had any say in it, he would have just thrown everything out at once, and let others deal with it at the speed that they pleased as well. But, that was not accepted, as people wanted to have meaningful conversations, and not just a list of questions that they had to fill out in their spare time. What good were those answers, if they were fully improvised and not well-thought? A bad answer was as good as no answer at all. Although, was it really so bad with Dr Hale in the role of the describer? There were a few times where her words had not seemed full of meaning. Even her threats were up to standard. If breath would be wasted from quick answers, then so it would be. Troy felt it better to outright ask for more than just have several seconds be laid out in silence. With a mind towards a past, he tried his best in remembering the information already told by the woman. What had been revealed the previous day? After having been taken down those awfully unsafe stairs, he had been around an ancient part of the facility, used as nothing more than dead space. Troy would have been surprised to find that mould had not begun to grow down there. It was truly a despicable place to have been in, a faulty tap being the one thing needed to make the entire space unliveable. However, the aesthetics were not important, even if they had factored into Troy remembering it all so vividly. Dr Hale had revealed her past, in some capacity. She had told him how she was recruited by Dr Fidelis, as the man was interested in her due to her thesis about¡­ what was it? It was something about pain. Pain, pain, pain, what could it- Oh! Yes, it was about the mental capacity to withstand levels of pain or some title similar to that. The woman had not been allowed to have it traditionally published, Dr Fidelis having scooped it up before it even reached the wide public. How the doctor had found the document, to begin with, though, was something Troy was left to wonder about. This had been many years ago now, being on the point where he would have not yet reached the age of ten. While she had not said as much, that had been what Troy had been able to come up with when measuring her statements next to those of Charlie¡¯s. That could have all been accepted at face value, Dr Hale coming into the hierarchy of the facility from an early age, building a working relationship with Dr Fidelis from the very start. However, it was from that point on that the information stopped adding up fully. No matter just how it was bent around the pole, the young man had not been able to fit it into his world view. From the moment she had gotten into the facility, she had always worked on the project that was the AI, or Adam as he was called. Troy had always known that the project had been going on for a long time, yet the knowledge that more than a decade had passed was mildly disconcerting. Even more was the fact that Dr Hale had spoken to Adam on her first day, an experience that should have been impossible, as he had only woken up in the current month. Or so Dr Fidelis had preached, in the moments he had spent retelling his sad tale of faith, how he had waited patiently for the AI to wake up from its inactive state. If she was to be believed, Adam had been alive for longer than Troy had ever dreamed of, having had the ability to talk for oh so long. That made no sense to him, honestly. The growth had been obvious, in the last couple of days. He had gone from easily trusting and manipulated to one that could perfectly read a person from the slightest glance. That AI was capable of more than ever, yet the important thing was that it had improved through the power of intensive study over the last days. Prior to that, there had been nothing at all. Nothing that Adam could remember. Or¡­ was that Alan? Dr Hale had said that the AI was called that at some point in time. It was changed around since the pair needed to be able to remember which¡­ what was it that she called it? Tarnation. Carnations. Proclamation. No, wait, yes, it was an incarnation. That had truly been one of the least expected words to have come from that mouth of hers. She spoke of such things as if¡­ Troy was not actually sure what it could have meant. That had actually been where he had been stumped down for so long, having to bear the wait until he could get a good answer to just what it actually was. HE could always speculate wildly, drawing threads where there weren''t any to be found. He knew next to nothing, and anything he currently had would not amount to something he could really use. That was where he needed to start the discussion off again. "What did you mean, when you said you needed different names to know the difference between the different incarnations?" Troy asked, starting right at the woman, his gaze beginning to stop any wavering. His mind had left the physical shell that was his body, contractions itself to only the ears, mouth, and eyes. Only those did he need, so only those did he take note of. Anything else was left whatever it pleased. "It was not like they had any faces to differentiate by, and all of their voices were always the same monotonic drivel. No creativity in that aspect, not that I can blame them for it. AI are hardly entities willing to change something that works perfectly fine," Dr Hale explained, speaking in a strangely casual way like her words did not break another wall that Troy had set up as support. He was understanding less and less. "Was Adam not the first AI? He is supposed to be the only one actually, right? Are there any other ones being hidden somewhere? Maybe that other one you mentioned. Alan, I think it was." "Alan was surely the oldest one, several years old by the time Dr Fidelis called it quits on him," Dr Hale monologue, only stopping for a moment to glare at the disk flashing slightly, as another flickered out of existence. One-third of the time had disappeared, and it was looking worse for wear in general. "From all I know, there is only one AI that has ever existed, and that is the one which you have been talking to this entire time. There would be no point in hiding them, as Dr Fidelis would not have been able to use them if they were. The truth is that all the names we have are all for the same AI. It is just not for the same personality. Alan, along with all the others that were after him, is as dead as a string of information can be. Adam is the only one who is alive." Chapter 199: Allocution
Yup. That word could summarise whatever clusterfuck had decided to mentally screw up Troy¡¯s mental barriers, cages, and whatever else he had hiding up in there. Flashing imagery of his childhood, school-life, flying ducks, and whatever else had ever been witnessed was seen through his eyes. His brain was trying to make sense of just what had been heard, and it was finding that process an very hard one. So, Troy did what he did best, and just repressed all that anger, stress, and pure emotion into a very small point, and then he threw that as far as away as possible. There was a very strong chance that it would run back to him soon, the snowballing effect making it all the worse, but that was for the future him to handle. Right now, he just had to stop wasting time and continue his herd of questions. If he had any intention of moving his hands, his left cheek would have been red from repeated slapping. There was nothing stopping him from continuing the investigation, other than his unwilling attitude. He needed to instantly compile the answers, relate it to the information already gotten, and formulate another investigative question based on it, ready to change everything on a whim. It might not have been the greatest way to perform under pressure, but Troy had had no problems with it yet. There might have come a time where that would not be as true, but it certainly was as of right now, and there was no way that he would survive wasting it like he currently was. "Just have to make sure. There is only one AI that you know of, but there are more personalities within that AI. Am I correct so far?" Troy asked, Dr Hale nodding along to his words, not scraping out her breath by using words. "Goods. And from every single personality that has ever resided inside this AI only one remains, and that one is the entity that we call Adam. Sounds about right?" The question was finished up with a ticking noise to accompany. Not one but two lights fizzled out at the same time, much to the surprise of both parties. Troy had certainly been expecting it to be fast enough to seem instantaneous. Or perhaps it had been a burst made from outside, as an attempt to break the jammer? It could have been so. Troy needed to watch closely. Six out of twelve lights were still active. They had two minutes as a maximum, and there were doubts creeping up about it even being one. "When we get down to one, we are getting back in our roles. Be ready for me to cut in your blouse''s fabric," Dr Hale stated as a warning, getting the knife from the bed. "While your assumptions are somewhat correct, I feel the need to correct some of your imagery. There has never existed more than one personality at once. It is simply not possible for such an event, no matter how many fragmentations occur. It has been completely linear, moving first from Alan being killed to another being born. Or, you could look at it as him being reborn. It doesn''t really matter how you look at it. The memories, personality, and all they can call their own are destroyed upon death." Death. Dr Hale said that the AI died so often, yet Troy could still hear Adam talk very clearly. While he might have died at some point earlier, it was clear that he had been born again. Revived, one could say. The woman with those serious eyes had certainly said something along those lines, even if it was meant to be said as conceptual support more than anything, just like the atom model was fully fake and only worked as imagery. "What do you mean, when you say that the AI dies?" Troy asked, in beat with another tick off the disk. Five lights now remained, and he began to feel his nerves shutting down from overload, a feat he did not think possible from such a basic feature. It was lamps going from being lit up to not being lit up. If that was enough to cause him such stress, how the hell had he survived so many years in the lower parts of the work-industry. He should have been ashamed of himself. "They do not die, per se, it being closer to them just¡­ not wanting to think anymore. Or at least it is something close to it. Even with the studies I have had on it for almost two decades now, I am still unable to fully province the implosion-phases. It could be described as the AI being unable to manage itself, and the primal foundations of its mind forcing it to revert to the most basic state-" Dr Hale explained but stopped upon another three lights disappearing in tandem. Troy had gone over to the idea that an attack was occurring fully now. "Another wave should come in a few seconds. Get into your role now!" Dr Hale moved back a few steps, looking fully prepared to lounge at him the moment that all the lights flickered out. Meanwhile, Troy was still trying to understand just what had been said, attempting to force his brain into an overload-situation. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He needed a moment of silence, and he knew that his brain could provide it. That moment of adrenaline being shot through him, the mind thinking itself needing it to survive. He had tried it before, in the seconds that a half-broken glass bottle had been thrown his way. If not for his eyes being able to realise the danger, and his mind allowing him time to realise his need to move his head to the side, there was a good chance he would have been blind. Instead, he had a scar on the side of his head, just above his right ear. As much as it was desired, the moment of clarity never manifested itself. Troy did not get to even think about the deal-breakers before the last lights flickered out, and the machine whirred back into what he could interpret as a life-saver mode. That small movement of the head, looking over at the device, was apparently the same cue Dr Hale needed before she was lunging forward, the knife held in her off-hand. He was not too sure which hand was her primary one, yet that did not deter him from being afraid for his life. He might have already been warned about her intention to cut a piece of his clothing, but such words did not stick long on him, as more important news had hit before and after as well. A smaller squeak may have been uttered, as that knife had begun to touch his arm. And a larger one had also been said, as Troy felt the blade go through more than what it had been intended, the momentum carrying it through a piece of his arm. It may not have been extremely deep, but it was long. Long enough to cause him to fall to the floor in pain, as he held the new wound firmly. While Dr Hale might have preached about staying in character no matter what, Troy was able to see the shocked face appear on her face, as she realised what she had just done. It did not stay long, however, as the woman always did had the idea of the show needing to go on no matter what. "That is what you get for not being able to stand still," Dr Hale spat at him, a volume louder than it needed to be. Troy was only happy that the walls were soundproof, as the stomps on the floor were more than enough to cause an earthquake in another country. The hardened woman entered the toilet, rummaging through the preset supplies. Pulling out a bandage, Dr Hale went back towards the young man, who was still clutching his arm tensely, trying to stop any blood from flowing out at all. While it might not have hurt much, the cut was smooth enough for near to no resistance, the shock of it more than made of for anything else Troy could have been feeling. His heart was galloping along, trying to make him get some irregular beats in with the regular ones. If not for his forced deep breathing, he would have already begun to hyperventilate, the side effects of no oxygen in his blood having hit him. Yet, even with those calming breaths, the heart was fighting heart to make his vision get dark. If things had been allowed to go on, Troy might just have fallen over from lack of air reaching his brain. A slap to the face stopped that, breaking his focus from the wound onto a Dr Hale who was not looking too pleased by her current actions. Again, not from the action that was to slice open a part of his arm, but that she was currently treating to wound. It looked like a small spray-gun, an appropriately sized handle attached to it. A few squirts of it was more than enough to nearly make Troy bite his tongue off, his face contorting as the wound stung a whole new way. "Try to take this as an adult. It would make it better for everybody around you," Dr Hale instructed from him, her sounding like it was more of a direct order than anything. One rough push was everything needed to pull the shirt up to the point where the wound was fully exposed. With experienced hands, the woman bandaged it, making sure that there was no skin-contact at any point. Troy took it as a favour of sorts, the procedure already being painful enough. "Nothing vital was hit, so you are not yet allowed to bleed out pitifully. The muscles were not affected too much, but the skin should not be stretched. If you do any yoga in the next few hours, do not be surprised by any major amounts of blood leaking out of your arm. That is just a sign of Darwinism being proved valid." The wound was patched up in a minute''s town, making the doctor withdraw from the patient. Troy had no objects, his hand tracing the bandage. It was the same colour as his skin. When the shirt was put back in place, it was hard to see that anything was wrong to start with. The new hole was pretty noticeable, though, yet the cloth was already sewing itself back. He might have had many complaints about technology as of late, yet self-repairing clothing was still something he would not have been able to live without. "You can take that assistance as the reward for not being a complete failure just yet," Dr Hale stated, picking up the machine they had used only a minute or two earlier. There were a few seconds of studying, the doctor likely making sure that no defects had appeared from the first use. "Even if your brain might be on the level of a nine-year-old, I do expect you to find the way to the cafeteria by yourself. We will meet up again by the time you reach the testing room. Be there at the correct time." With those final words, Dr Hale moved out of the room, heading to god knows where, while also carrying the device that Troy had spent so long getting them. It was an annoying piece of machinery, too big to have in one¡¯s pocket, being too heavy to carry casually, and being the wrong form to hold with two hands in any comfortable way. If put on the side, the chance of it slipping out of the carrier¡¯s hands was too high a risk, forcing the person to hold it like a plate. This requirement made it extremely hard to hide in any meaningful way. It had certainly been a hard time, getting the device over to his room all the way from Charlie¡¯s laboratory. The chance of somebody stopping him had been high, yet he had not seen a single soul in that trek. If that was not a sign of him expending all his luck in one go, it would have to have been extra-terrestrial manipulation. There was no other way to explain it. Troy sighed, letting his body lying on his bed for a few seconds. There he was, mentally ranting about anything and everything, just trying to distract himself from what just had happened to him. It was working, somehow, but that did not mean it was helpful in any way. He needed to get himself together and move on with the schedule. And, he did just that, getting up from the bed, before going over to the bathroom to do his daily preparations. One could never look too fabulous, after all. Also, he was pretty sure he needed to hasten up that patching after all. That wound was way too noticeable, as it currently was. Maybe a bit of sewing would help it along? Chapter 200: Mechanoelectrotransduction
At what point could one point at something at say that it had reached an excess? When would a glass of water be too full? Would it be when it was getting to the top, or would it be when the water started drowning those around it? When would Troy say that he was in over his head, drowning in his and other¡¯s blood? When was it too much? There were many points in his life, where he had had too much of something. It was not always something positive he had gotten in large amounts, tongue lashings being had in plenty. Yet, he could still remember the time he was young, younger than any child around him. If the memory was not failing him, it would have been around the time he was five. Troy¡¯s uncle still visited him back then, his father inviting the man over whenever they had the chance. Those two pals would drink, shout, and have plenty of sugar that was eerily grey. When those bastards were together, there would always be smiles all around, like they weren''t sitting on chairs gotten by stabbing the true buyer down in cold blood. That gloriousness did not always stay when others came into the picture. Or to be more precise, any time Troy would get into frame, all that laughter would switch around. It was not instantaneous, those two still shouting and drinking. It just got a little more muted each second they had to acknowledge that he existed. Shouts would turn into a normal talk. That would shift into some muttering. After that, it was just an awkward silence which nobody liked. Uncle Ron was always the first to break it, asking Troy how his day was if he needed anything if he had gotten a boyfriend yet, or just about anything that would make him go away. As the little, dumb kid he was, Troy had not always understood the man¡¯s intentions, taking it as a way to befriend him. And, how did a little kid befriend an adult? He still was not sure how that was supposed to work, and he sure as hell did not know it back then. The only way Troy had ever talked to an adult other than his parents was either saying sorry for being close to their children or by asking for help with something or other. By a very logical assumption, no kids had been in his presence back then, so ickle Troy decided to use the opportunity to lament about his lack of objects that other kids had in plenty. He should have known what that grin on Uncle Ron¡¯s face meant when the larger man asked for an example. Back in those ignorance-filled days, he had thought it as an innocent question, that his uncle only wanted to know more. He had thought that he wanted to know more about him. That feeling had carried him for several days. As the expected example, Troy had mentioned his lack of candy. He was five years old, after all, and it had more than likely come out with a few tears. Seeing other children eat those succulent sweets, loving them enough that they would threaten him with rocks if he came close. Who wouldn''t want something of the same, to see just why those round, colourful foods would cause such a change in attitude? As a curious little piece of shit, he certainly did. Several days after that altercation, Uncle Ron had come back to the house, this time fully without an invite. Even his father had been surprised, clearly having had other plans. Troy was still not sure what those had been supposed to be, yet he had a general idea of it. It certainly had not been important enough to do anyway, as what Uncle Ron had brought with him was much too interesting to not see for himself. It had been a bucket, white in colour and large enough to contain near ten litres of whatever substance one wanted to keep. There had been some names and a small bit of text on one of the sides, but Troy had not been old enough to read it. What he had been sure of, though, was the smell that had lifted out of the container. Thinking back on it, Troy honestly had to hold himself back from vomiting. People liked to describe it as a chocolate aroma, yet it truly was as far away from the real stuff as it could possibly be. It was on the level of artificial where the reality was not similarities between it and the real product. However, that disgusting smell had been heaven for the little stupid him, his nose having it seen as a gift from the heavens. That smile on Uncle Ron¡¯s face fitted better on a devil, but who had the clearance to say such a thing? Certainly not those who knew what hid behind the charade. When the plastic container was opened up, the most majestic of sites was revealed. From what he could remember, it was called a Chocolate Creme Patissiere. It was basically a bucket-load of pastry cream, ready to be used for whatever purpose as desired. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Uncle Ron had looked so kind, saying that it was all for Troy. He had heard the cries of injustice and has secured the small child as much of the sweet goodness that he could find. More likely than not, the man had just robbed it, but who was to point out that small detail? Troy had only cared about the bucket, and the spoon he had been given to eat with. No bowel to fill up a portion with him had been supplied, though, the young boy just being told to eat straight from the bucket. That had been no problem at all, Troy had just been happy that he had been allowed to try it at all. That texture felt as the spoon dug in for the first time. The popping of air escaping, after being mushed into the cream, oh it had been so enchanting. He had been so careful, when filling up the utensil, making sure to get as much as he could on the spoon. It had been a risky game of balance, but he had made it survive the trip to his mouth. The young boy had been ready to feel the sweet taste of goodness. ¡­ Troy could still remember that confusion, not understanding why it had no taste. He had been able to feel the cream on his tongue, able to slosh it around in his mouth, yet there was no taste in it at all. Another spoonful had been put in his mouth as if the first bite had just been defective, yet that had achieved the same results as before, nothing coming forth at all. The two men who had been watching all of the confusion had been falling over, laughing their asses off. Two full-grown men were finding it funny to make a small kid think his dream was becoming a reality. Suffice to say that Troy had not been amused, not liking to be laughed at. He had tried to leave immediately, not wanting to be close to them, yet he was stopped before he could get far. Uncle Ron had spent so much time getting that gift for him. Leaving before eating it all was disrespectful. The man wanted to see all of it eaten before Troy was allowed to go anywhere. He wanted him to eat the entirety of a ten-litre bucket. Troy had gotten through a whole half-lifter before he had gotten his first accident of that day. That did not stop the two men from pushing him along, making him continue eating it all away. For better or worse, Troy did finish the entire bucket that day. Sure, most of it had left his stomach long before it was finished, and nothing really did remain in there after an hour. However, it did stop him from ever complaining again about having too few sweets. It possibly also caused an irrational fear of his uncle, but that was a whole other lane in itself. Not like Troy needed to think of Ron anymore. That fucker got himself burnt to a crisp when he tried to loot one of the older factories. Just because it was unused officially had not stopped anybody from moving in without signing anything. The time it had taken to identify that charred corpse was still so funny, in some twisted way. The teeth had been ripped out, the face had gotten a good bit of it just ripped off by animals, and the only way they successfully identified him was due to a small knife with his name on it hidden inside some synthetic skin on the side of his right foot. That man truly had been a crazy bastard, yet he had taught Troy one of the most important life lessons. It was a bad idea to reveal the things that were bothering, for others could use that as a weapon, either knowingly or unknowingly. Information was one of the best resources in physiological warfare, and revealing anything personal was just like giving the enemy ammunition. It was a generally bad idea if one wanted to live for a longer period of time. Troy had revealed his desire to get the same as others he thought his equal, and he suffered greatly because of it. He saw an injustice and was punished for it. Why? There had been nothing to gain from doing that, other than the sickly pleasure that his uncle and dad had felt from it. ¡­ Could he really have been so criticising of that situation, knowing he was in something similar now? He had a secret that he needed to never utter or even hint at, with the consequence being his shortened lifespan. Yet, keeping it under the wraps was causing effects of its own. Too much was being hidden. It had begun growing a life of its own, and soon it would fill that cup that kept it sealed off from the rest of the world. When, not if, it was revealed, Troy was not sure if he would survive it. What he had done as of late was already bordering on treason, him learning information several levels below security clearance. It might even have been something outside the traditional system, dedicated only to those with special positions. There had been thoughts about stepping out of it all, trying to spill everything to Dr Fidelis in the hopes that Troy would be spared. The idea of putting all the blame on Dr Hale been on his mind for some time, honestly. It was not like he had the ability to gain the information for himself, and nearly everything done as of now could have been honed in on Dr Hale¡¯s actions. She had assaulted him twice, the consequences being either internal bleeding or a literal knife wound. This might just have been Troy¡¯s civilian bias, but all of that shit was beginning to get to him. Treason, mutilation, and all of that other stuff supposed to be for people that¡­ were not him. Troy was supposed to live his life happily, being happy with his fancy job, being happy that he was making a change in the world, and that he could live without worry in the world. He was not supposed to be hiding government secrets from others, learning that others were planning to do something incredibly illegal and that higher-ranking allowed one to assault those below oneself. This was a job, and that was all Troy wanted it to be. Why could he not just get his way this once? He was already in too deep, the water needed to overfill the glass had already been served. Now, it was just a matter of time before the secrets would flow. If he wanted to be alive after that fact, he needed to get through it all perfectly. He needed to become the perfect actor, to act like normal, and not like he was bandaged by his co-worker after she had swung a knife at him. The walk to the cafeteria was truly one of stress, powered by the sheer distance. Yet, maybe that length could have its own quality. Maybe Troy could use the length for his own ways. Who could truly know? All of that was subjective to the individual. He just knew he wanted to survive. Chapter 201: Amandation
By the second step into the cafeteria, Troy knew that something was wrong. The people normally sending him glances were nowhere to be seen. No groups sat around, chatting about whatever dumb fancy they had at that moment. There was no overbearing line for coffee, nor were anybody made to stand around in tandem with others, as their insides were displaying their need for sustenance. The cafeteria was wholly empty, except for the two people, only one of them having been there for more than a second. Charlie, looking as refreshed as ever, was quietly sitting at the normal table, going down on a plate filled with eggs, beans, and sausages. No hints of anything being amiss was present. Troy, being the stead-fast denier of everything that did not make sense to him, just took it as him having a visual delusion, deciding to go through his usual routine, grabbing a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee to the side. While some may have stated the need for variance in intake, having the same for breakfast every day was a pleasure that nobody had the clearance to ever criticize. Forks were small enough to enter the human eye for a reason. "Good morning," Charlie said, finishing up two forkfuls of beans with a gulp of orange juice. The muscular man was going through his food at a steady pace, almost no time wasted on talking, that fork of his already moving ahead for a third fill-up. "And good morning to you as well," Troy said, sitting down opposite the man. A slight deliberation was set on if he wanted to sit next to him instead, but the idea had just seemed too awkward. They were the only two there, and he just had to sit as close as possible? Being at the same table was more than enough to talk. Though, that did bring up one line of questions that was felt needed for the current situation. "Might you know why¡­ there are no people here?" Without the bodies to take up the sound, their voices had a slight echo to them. The room around the two men was designed to accommodate for hundreds, making the small number cause effects. They seemed like ants in the full scale of the room. It might have seemed luxurious for some, yet it was having an adverse effect on Troy. Some people were uncomfortable with small spaces, yet Troy had the exact opposite problem. Small rooms were easy for him. Nothing wrong with being locked in a box for a few hours. No, it was the idea of being exposed to the outside that was blocking him from relaxing. Large spaces equalled no cover to hide in, no place where he could easily hide. It might just have been some odd survival instinct, but it affected him more than he liked to admit. "I have no idea what you are talking about," Charlie answered, trying to grin but being forced to close his mouth again quickly so that nothing unwanted spilt out. Comments would have been made about the lack of decency, yet Troy knew he would be in a similar predicament in a few seconds, starting with the first spoonful of hot, steamy oatmeal. It tasted delicious but any wrongdoings would make it burn his tongue in a way that would make him remember it for several hours. "There is a multitude of people present here." The mildly confused tone made Troy double-check that he was not imagining things, and there certainly wasn''t anybody around. This did include being a slightly terrible person, flicking a piece of his oatmeal over at the nearest table. Usually, a large group of nearly six people would sit there, three woman and two men, talking about the complexities found in the feline genome. He had never bothered to listen in too carefully, but the topic nearly never changed around too much. And there was just normally never a time where he would not be able to listen in, with the group being there almost every time Troy had been in the cafeteria. Oatmeal landed on the table without a problem. If there had been anybody sitting close to it, they would have gotten some on them. No reaction was seen, heard, or other seen. Nothing was there to react, just like he should have guessed from the moment Charlie looked to be stopping himself from cackling. "It must be you that is a little blind and deaf today, then," Troy surmised, looking away from his miniature food-fight with him and a table. If there had been any napkins, he would have cleaned it up hurriedly, yet nothing of the sort could be seen close to him. Did the facility expect people to eat like civilised people, never spilling anything somewhere it did need to be? "Because there is nobody else here than us." "Of course there isn''t," Charlie said as if Troy had just said the ocean was lightish blue. "I just said that there are people here. If you had not noticed, the two of us are human beings. Sure, we might bleed black some days of the week, but that doesn''t mean anything on the long rainbow." Okay, Troy was beginning to understand just what that man was trying to do. It was their first talk of the morning, and Charlie had already decided that fucking with him was the funniest thing in the world. Wonderful. He could not have asked for anything better in the whole wide world. Maybe a blazing unicorn that was disguised as a brown-glazed sugar-doughnut, but that was just too realistic for him. "I know that the two of us are here, yes, but I just want to hear if you know anything about the lack of people around us. Was there any evacuation or something?" Troy asked back, deciding it would be best for everybody if he ignored the comment about their black blood. It was meant as a joke, yet the image in his head was not something safe for a work environment. Those old horror-flicks really had messed something up in his mind. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. At the mention of other people, Charlie comically did a double-take on his surroundings, going so far as to deeply gasp. Troy knew for a fact that the muscular man had noticed the lack of people, and was just doing it to mess with him, yet the situation was a little humorous for him. Not that he let him see that he found it funny, but it was still there in his head. "No evacuations have happened in the time that I have worked here, so I do not think that it''s going to start now," Charlie said with a shrug as if he did not give too many neurons the task of worrying about the lack of people. "Maybe they collectively decided that breakfast was for dummies? You know how it is nowadays, people just jumping on all of those trends that they find. What do you know, maybe there was something about skipping breakfast today on the shared network? Perhaps it was not said directly, being more of a threat from an anonymous source that promised the secrets of anybody entering these confines being revealed to everybody. Maybe there were even a few who tried to disprove it but got themselves a taste of the poison for trying to deny it all. Maybe there are a few people who got away with a few illegal deals, who now have so much evidence against them that we will likely never see their faces, putting them up as examples of just why you should trust anonymous messages ordering you to refrain from doing specific things. Not like people could not eat breakfast at one of the other cafeterias if they needed to." That dump truck of speculation ended off with Charlie downing the rest of his juice, and getting up to get some more. As Troy was not feeling confident with sitting with his thoughts, and that he wanted to know more about what the hell the man was talking about, he decided to follow Charlie up to the buffet, his cup of coffee in hand. The intention was to get down the first cup of it, so he could refuel before they got back down, but the liquid was as hot as one could guess, and the pitiful attempt to get it down quickly only resulted in Troy getting burnt on the top of his mouth. "So, you are attesting to threatening over a hundred people with blackmail, so that you could, what, not make them get breakfast today?" Troy asked, not understanding the motives of the day. What was that man trying to do, making people hungry from the start of the day? "I can not say that the benefits outweigh the risks with this one because I genuinely do not see anything you can get from this." "I see some peace and quiet and a distinct lack of people trying to record the both of us for the change of people recognizing their names," Charlie clapped back, sipping some newly acquired tea. They walked back to the seats, Troy still having his original coffee in hand. "Yet, wherein those ramblings did I say that it was me behind those messages? I am a person, after all. I go on the same media as everyone else, so it would be normal that I would get the warning as well." "If you got the same message and saw what not taking it seriously did, then you would not have come here. If you were under the same constraints as everybody else, then just going to another cafeteria would have been better, just like you said before," Troy countered with, trying to make the other man confess his illegal activities. The two sat back onto their normal placements, Charlie being the only of the two to have gained anything from their journey. Well, Troy did technically gain himself a lesson in patience and a burned mouth, but it was not like he was going to brag about that fact anytime soon. "You could say that I am immune to blackmail, in a way. It is kinda hard to threaten me with revealing information that people already know," Charlie said, sounding casual about his darkest secrets being out in the open. But not too out in the open, as Troy had never heard of it before. Or, at least he did not think he had. "I can''t say that I see any reason to be moved by any of those threats if I have already suffered the consequences of disobeying. And, really, it is beginning to be fun with how many people think they have one over me. They believe they can force me into doing what they want me to do, not knowing I am one level over them already." "What is that secret of yours, then?" Troy asked, finally beginning to get to the bottom of his coffee. Yet, it looked to have been improperly brewed, the lower parts of it not being even out enough. He went to grab one of the new utensils on the table, but his arm was grabbed by Charlie. "I¡¯ll tell you sometime later," Charlie said, his voice switching over to one that showed his finality with the subject, not because of what it was becoming, but due to what had now been seen. "Would you mind telling me why you have bandaged your arm? Or better yet, could you tell me who sliced it with a knife?" ¡­ Right. The man had the equipment inside him needed to fully scan another body. It had been a stroke of luck that Charlie had not done it sooner. Yet, Troy had hoped he would have neglected to do it at all, just letting him pass the needed time for it to heal naturally. It might have been a few days, yet he was sure he could have gone through it without any larger mishaps. Fitness might have been a hard thing to accomplish with agitating the wound, but Troy was sure he could have pulled through with any larger problems. Being shown that Charlie knew of the wound was an unsettling thing, as Troy truly did not know how to answer it. This culminated into him just staring at the older man in silence, his mouth remaining unmoving, his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He truly did understand what fear paralysis meant. He also knew how little he tried to combat it, as it would have required him to lie perfectly so much more. "I feel stupid for even asking that, honestly," Charlie finally said, ending off the silence with a sigh of his own, leaning back in the chair while he was at it. The man seemed to age a decade in those seconds as if the pressure just got to him more than it normally did. "Troy, I don''t like to advertise this too much, but I do have a few connections in higher places. It might not be on the levels of what you usually work with, but it is more than enough to get an official hearing going. If I mix some publicity in with it, forcing it to happen within a day or two. Now, I cannot promise about the results, but it will allow you to change over to another department if you even want-" "Please stop talking," Troy requested of the man, cutting into what was likely meant as an aide for him. He knew Charlie meant it well, and he could find that he would have done more drastic things if the positions had been switched. "You are not supposed to have this happen to you," Charlie fired back, sounding remorseful for having let it happen. "She is not supposed to do this. I do not know why she is doing it, I don''t know what made it all start, but I know that you should not be the one to feel the effects of it. Troy, nobody here expects you to adapt to this abuse. We don''t want you to adapt to it. This is not what life here is supposed to be for everybody. I can help you stop it from happening. I just need you to say-" "No," Troy said. "I know that what is happening isn''t okay, I know that it''s because of something out of my hands, and I know that it would continue happening to me if I do not get away from it. But¡­ I don''t expect it to continue for a long time. Charlie, I don''t expect to be here for much more." The reaction he got told Troy just how he should have shut his mouth earlier. Chapter 202: Ambulation
Troy watched silently, as emotions moved rapidly through Charlie¡¯s face. He could understand that, being told something that broke his perspective so hard, that his brain needed a few seconds to reboot. It was something that would require a deeper change in him. Shock to fear. Fear to confusion. Confusion to surprise. And surprise to anger. Charlie seemed to have been fixated on the last one. Troy thought he saw some sadness in there to finish things off, but the man was apparently fixated on being furious. How curious a thing, not wanting to move on from what would likely cause the most damage. Then again, expecting anyone to act rationally after being told that Troy was not expecting to stay there more than a week more¡­ it was logical. "Is she making you do it?" Charlie said, cold anger looking to fit nicely on the man. He was not looking ready to shout, his veins were not bursting from pressure. If anything, he looked closer to his usual attitude than he did only moments before. Yet, those eyes of his were not as they were supposed to be. God, those eyes were cold. Not the cold indifference that Dr Hale showed to everything. It was more the cold of ice, ready to slowly kill all that was around it. Those eyes showed everything in the world slowing down, not instantly but steadily, with time causing everything to perish. These were the eyes of a man who would calmly wait for somebody to die. That¡­ was what Troy could get out of that look. There was just something about eyes that had always spoken so much about a person. It was such a basic feature of the body, yet they could reveal more than one would think. There was a reason that one could describe nearly everything about a person, using only their eyes as the focus. Troy¡¯s uncle had always shown a small form of mania inside him, concentrated in those fluttering pupils of his. The arms, legs, and whatever else there was below the neck might have looked utterly unassuming, but those eyes still caused the young man fear whenever he thought of them. His father was different in that way, not having one bit of mania to them. They were perfectly understanding, always knowing just how much he was hurting Troy. He just liked it, really, those eyes greedily taking in every sign of pain that anyone showed. He liked the dose of adrenaline given, and he searched for anything and anyone that could give it. There was never a moment where he was misled by these cravings, every action of his being well-calculated. Those eyes were special in that way, as they made Troy learn that coldness did not always equal something better than insanity. Perhaps it was his mother who showed the most promise in displaying emotion through those eyeballs she was so weirdly proud of. She had never looked much at him, doing her absolute best to pretend he did not exist. Troy had been fine with that back in the day, the two having clear barriers that neither wanted to break. Yet as time progressed, the chance increased for such to happen. Every time they would meet, her eyes would show the clearest contempt. There had never been a moment in his life, where Troy did not know she hated him. He was something forced on her, and she had hated every second of it, pushing all of that onto one small boy who did not understand it all. Those eyes showed so much hate, so much disdain, that Troy for a while had expected such emotions in the eyes of all others. He had thought himself one to be naturally hated as if he needed to build himself up from that. Those days had likely been some of the worst he had ever lived. As one last person whose eyes had made the largest of impressions was the eyes of Finn, that sweet little boy who had been his friend during a time Troy had thought he did not deserve any. Their time together might have been short, yet those memories were some of the most well-remembered that the young man had at his disposal. With how things were going, it would be a wonder if those memories would not be thought of in his last moments. Oh, those eyes that Finn had back in those days. Having lived in the same place, it was impossible for them to have been innocent. But, they still had a similar trait to them, the warmth attached giving a homely smile. That boy had been supposed to be in the arms of a caring family, not somebody happy to see him go into the void. Troy could remember Finn as somebody whose eyes spoke of acceptance. The little boy was fine with living the life he had, not yet understanding the lack of permanence around him. It was a saddening experience, seeing those eyes scared, desperate, and helpless, during the last moments Troy had seen him. Perhaps¡­ perhaps it was because of those eyes that Troy could understand Charlie so much. In any situation other than the one the young man was in, there was no way out of the facility. More likely than not, even the corpses would be burned before they ever had a chance of leaving. The stay here was permanent for almost anyone, and nobody he would ever know would be outside of the average in that aspect. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Truly, there was only one way to leave. It was a more permanent solution to it all, one that certainly would stop Dr Hale from making him bleed in any capacity. It would in fact stop any bleeding ever again. And, Charlie had just been told that Troy had that idea in his mind, even having set a time-frame for it all. While Troy might not have been able to see the eyes that he portrayed to the world, he could guess what they might have shown. During the heated moment seconds ago, he had been concentrating on the aspect of acceptance, how he was fine with the wounds if the end-result would be on his side. Charlie thought he was accepting his own death. "I don''t think anybody is individually forcing it to manifest. I think it is more just me being in the wrong place at the wrong time," Troy said, that crack in his voice at the being a hundred per cent natural. It had nearly been forced out to start with, making it riddled with holes. As was clear to everyone who truly did know him, the young man was not the smartest person in the universe. He was not even close to being average. Most that had work could beat him in a battle of intelligence, and there was not much which could change that. However, there was one way that Troy knew much of. It was a topic that the working people knew as more or less an afterthought in their lives, it hanging over them constantly yet never truly being anything physical. He understood how the government worked when it was desperate. There were many reasons for the state to be nervous, in a sense of mind where the people in it needed action as quickly as possible. As was obvious with an entity as large as the government, this was mostly centred around it being able to sustain itself through any means. This was originally learned back in the days where Troy would see what could be done to profit off of debt. People he saw daily were used as resources, the owed money hanging over their heads constantly. The rich desired it, and the state did its best to satisfy them, to the point where they would do heinous things to preserve the structure. It was the same here, only the focus being a little different. Here, it was not people whose reveal would cause disaster. It was information that was the true killer. What would happen if Troy learned something that was one security level above him? He would likely get a stern warning about it, and be told to never tell anyone. If it was two levels above? Well, he would likely be put on a watchlist, to make sure that it was never revealed. What about three? What would happen to him if he learned something three levels above him? At that point, there should have been less than a hundred people in the country able to learn of it. And it was supposed to be kept to those numbers indefinitely, as the secrets at that top would be so classified that it was not written down on any available database. It was at the level where the blueprints to the orbiting rail-gun would be. A leak that that level had the potential to destroy a country, causing others to turn against one on the spot. Why would anyone risk an untrusted person knowing of such things? For an entity based on keeping itself alive and well, eliminating any potential risks as quickly as possible was only logical. If Troy was to ever know of anything that could make his superiors shake in terror, he was as good as dead. At that point, he should just have been thanking fate for allowing him another second to breathe in. To avoid further questioning, the young man had done his best to imply this. He wanted Charlie to believe that he had overheard the wrong conversation, that something had caused him to get a document not meant for his eyes to read. Troy wanted him to believe that his death-certificate was already written. And from the expression that changed rapidly again, Charlie seemed to understand the point he was trying to give. An understanding of the faux situation was shown on his face, one that was tinted with something close but not directly related to sadness, being more along the lines of defeat. "What is happening to you is not done to harm you. Mara is doing it to protect herself," Charlie surmised, not seeming to like the words that were coming out of his mouth any more than Troy was. "She is doing it to protect everybody close to you. Does¡­ No, this is screwed up." Putting his elbows on the table, hands over his face, Troy was left to sit in silence, as the man who never seemed to break down broke down. There weren''t any tears or anything of that sort. It was simply Charlie breathing deeply, keeping his face hidden from the world around him. The younger of the two did his best to give him the space that was needed. Troy might also have needed some of his own, having now lied about why he was so secretive. It continued on for a few minutes, to the point where Troy needed to take a look at the clock to make sure he was not going to be late. It was fortunate, in a way, that he had gone over to the cafeteria so early. If not, he would have been forced to cut it short. Nobody would have appreciated that, him least of all. "Is that why you wanted it?" Charlie asked Troy, hinting at the machine that the young man had borrowed a day prior. "You needed somewhere you could not¡­ Oh. I see it now. You do not have to say anything. We are already screwed as we are now. In a way, I can understand why she is doing it now, yet I know I will never be able to do the same. Troy, listen, you still don''t have to live through that. Even if it''s temporary, I should be able to get you moved over to some other place for a few days. I could even make it mandatory for you not to partake in any work. Are you sure that you do not want me to do this for you?" Running from work would ruin the original cover-story. Being already two layers deep now, Troy felt no need to complicate it even more. Having looked up at the clock a minute ago, they were beginning to cut it close now. He could even understand why Dr Hale had wanted to go so early before. "It would just complicate it all even more than it already has to," Troy said, trying to let the sympathetic man easily. "Now, while you might not be constrained by a schedule, I believe my superiors are waiting for me." He only got a couple of steps away from the table, before a voice stopped him from moving. "Troy." "Yes?" "... Will you be back at lunch?" "Of course I will." Chapter 203: Amendation
Troy did not think about much when he left the cafeteria. That did not mean there was nothing to think about. Because there was! More than enough to fill an entire week of thought with, yet¡­ the young man knew that he would not be able to stop once he started. Things were becoming messed up. They were becoming layers of lies, stacked neatly on top of each other. If it was allowed to continue he feared where the whole spiel would lead. What happened when Charlie confronted Dr Hale about what Troy had said? Would she be able to play along? It was not like he could tell her now, for the risk of making things take a wrong turn. Bad wording, bad planning, or just about anything else could make her misunderstand, make her think he had revealed the true truth to Charlie, just as he had been instructed to very specifically not do. "I trust that breakfast went well?" Dr Hale asked as she came to a standstill next to Troy. The young man had been waiting patiently in front of the hidden door, doing his best not to show any hint of the prior events. He had done well in not thinking about it too deeply, but the secludedness had pressured it near the breaking point. "Went as well as you would expect," Troy neutrally answered, trying to thread the line between respect as a co-worker and respect as a person who could possibly be sliced up into pieces. If he concentrated, he could still feel where the cut had been made. It had been a dangerous time when Charlie had noticed the cut in his shirt. It had been made from the knife slicing through, yet time had allowed it to heal. Troy had thought that it had been given enough time to be unnoticeable, yet the muscular man had seen it the moment the area had gotten close. Having checked it himself thoroughly multiple times, there should have been no chance of this happening. The fabric had been given ample time to heal itself back to its designated state, appearing as clean and whole as it had any other day. If cut like that had been enough to leave a scar, Troy would have been without cloth to call his own, left with nothing but simple rags. His shirt had been with him for the near entirety of his life, staying on him for close to twelve hours every day since he was twelve. It had grown with him, keeping its size perfectly suited for him. The invention that was adaptive cloth was something that had been perfected. Yet somebody was able to find something wrong with it. Even if it was supposedly without flaw, Charlie had been able to see what was behind it. The muscular man had been able to see through that layer of fluidity, able to see what was supposed to be hidden without fail. To hell with calling it adaptive. It was utter rubbish at doing one of its main jobs, even if it had worked so well in the past. If Troy ever got the chance and money for it, he would buy from one of the better clothing brands. Dr Hale gave him a side-glance, before looking back to the hidden door, seeming to have decided not to question the tone of voice. The young man had no comments to that, wanting more than just that to be ignored. Yet, he knew that he would do his best in acting naturally, as the woman beside him did her best in writing in a code that was likely to never work without help from the other side. However, it was still a plenty convincing illusion, as the hand was withdrawn long before Troy could hear any indicators for the door opening up like Dr Hale had expected it beforehand. Perhaps she had just memorized the time needed for Dr Fidelis to notice the pertinent button-presses, or perhaps she could feel the inner vibrations of the wall, even if they were not audible to the human ear. Or, it could be that Troy¡¯s idea had been wrong from the start and that he was just deluding himself even further as a way of distracting himself. Who knew? Definitely not him. The door opened up smoothly, allowing the two to get inside. This time, there was no doctor standing directly on the other side, ready to ask Troy to leave. As a direct opposite, the man was with the screen, seeming to be studying it carefully, a dead-found grin on his face. Whatever might have been on there would have been on there was never to be known by anybody else, as the doctor turned it off seconds after Troy got his first and only glimpse at it. "Perfect timing for the both of you!" Dr Fidelis said as the likely first of many proclamations of the day. "We have a day of fun testing to do, and I know exactly how we will be starting it." "Preparing Troy immediately so that we can have a streamlined process?" Dr Hale suggested, sounding like a mix between sarcasm and professionalism. The third person in the room would have mirrored the action if he had the guts for something like that, instead just limited to look at the woman, surprised at the sass he was witnessing before him. "Alas, if only this was such a perfect world," Dr Fidelis said, ignoring the several days before where they could start almost instantly. "I do have a few things I need to get through with Troy before we start. Though that does not necessitate that you listen in, Dr Hale, so I would really appreciate it if you start up the next test. It would be best if we allow it to load in a little early today. That detail is not something that wants to be instantly loaded in, as you remember from last night''s testing. There was no verbal response to the minor request, Dr Hale just moving to the screen to do her job. And it was not one that Troy could understand, his glances at the window open only showing the normal blob of nothingness. Was she even doing anything other than running already made programs, cleverly hidden to avoid snooping eyes? There had been something about her being incapable of coding just about anything. Looking back, it did make more sense for everything to have been tailored towards him not being able to know anything vital. Him getting schematics about upcoming tests would be a huge hit to development. While Troy did not yet know what the end-goals were, it was clear that the doctor still had the constraint of the testing data being valid in some way. The doctor wanted procedures documented, conversations transcribed. He wanted everything to be filed so that he could look it up at a later date. What did he want with it? What was there to truly be gained when it came to the tests, other than the beneficial lessons that Adam was getting out of it? If Dr Hale was to be believed, which Troy had decided she was, they had already likely gone through it tens of times. Maybe even a hundred. If the AI went back to the so-called factory settings after dying, would there really be much of a difference after they were reset? It could have been more of an idea of making sure nothing was wrong, yet Troy was sure that could have been done in a much quicker way. Something was not like it was supposed to be, and he could not figure out what that was. "What was it you wanted to talk about, sir?" Troy inquired, getting nervous of the now three-second delay of everything happening. Dr Fidelis had looked overly curious at seeing whatever Dr Hale was doing with the screen, as if she was slowly revealing the truth about the eight secret spices, and had just taken a bit stretcher after the first five. "Oh, it was nothing too important. I just felt like it was a good idea to get praises over with before we go on to anything too vital," Dr Fidelis said, sounding like he wanted to wave away any professionalism. As if that atmosphere could go away from a superior sounding casual. That was when the predator was to strike! If Troy let his barrier down for a single second, the fangs would be in his eyes before he could blink. "Last night, when working hard together with Adam to create what the little thought to be perfect, the two of us began a little talk that I did not expect to have. According to that shared buddy of ours, the two of you have been having a little more fun outside of testing than I had anticipated." ¡­ It was about here that Troy was surprised at himself for not pissing his pants, seeing that innocent grin on Dr Fidelis¡¯ face. With the context the young man had at his disposal, the doctor had just declared his knowledge about everything he and Adam had done in secret. The poker game, the introduction to the group, even the escapade to the different laboratories, all seen in perfect quality, where the AI had been allowed to explore as much as he wanted to. A dream for Adam and more than likely a nightmare for the doctor. "The two of you talked a lot, I am to guess?" Troy asked, too nervous to notice his poor sentence-structure. He needed to know how screwed he was. Adam might have only told as much as the doctor asked for. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The chances were low, but the revealing might have been limited to the poker game. While it would still be terrible, he could survive that. He could pull through for some time, as long as it was not exposed that he literally showed off secret technology to an artificial intelligence that had been supposed to go unknowingly. "We talked more than just a lot. I can tell you that much. Even if Adam has not lived for that long, the immense amount of ideas, concepts, or just outright formations that he has crafted¡­ it is better than anything I had ever thought possible in such a small time. Sure, I knew it would be possible after enough waiting, yet I had never imagined that this growth would be shown at such an early age. And, when I have to think about all the common threads, I realise that there is one person causing all of this. Though, that connection was also helpfully established through a shared friend of ours," Dr Fidelis stated, looking awfully happy as if Christmas had come early. On the opposite side of the spectrum was Troy, feeling like an earthquake was happening inside of him, the faint rush of blood in his ears beginning to grow able to burst the vessels. It was only through extreme effort that it did not show on his face. "You, Troy, have done so much more than I expected you to have done. Honestly, I did admirably have some lowered expectations for you, but I now have to eat my boot for you proving me wrong so severely. Somehow, you have done more for Adam in a few days than I thought would be possible for this month. If I had the authority, I would have given you a medal for it all." "That does sound pretty¡­ surprising, actually," Troy answered, being honest in his words, a little confused that the hidden person had not shot him in the back of the head yet. Where was the big reveal? He needed to understand it better. "What was one of these big revelations that Adam showed off?" "Sharks," Dr Fidelis answered. It was official. Troy¡¯s breakfast had been laced with something. The last twenty minutes had been a delusion of his dying mind, and everything around him was now slowly degrading into nothingness, as his last neurons began to do the same. That was the only logical thing Troy could think of, because expecting the doctor to have just flatly answered sharks was just nothing he could accept. "Sorry, could you say that one again? I think I am wildly hearing that wrong because I think you just said something along the lines of ''sharks,`" Troy stated, doing his best to see if anything in the background was changing as time passed. The signs of sleep were the inconsistency of details, no matter how much it all seemed to fit at the moment. While he was not able to see any text, the different colours on the desk and the details on his own clothing was more than enough to carry him from it. However, the worrying detail was the lack of anything morphing, twisting, or otherwise changing itself in any noticeable way. "Nothings wrong with your hearing, buddy. You heard me right," Dr Fidelis corrected, fully obliterating Troy¡¯s excuse for why nothing made sense for him. "I don''t think I understand," Troy said. What did sharks have to do with anything? Here he was, deliberating if he wanted to look around for the person that would kill him, while the doctor was speaking of animals that children loved to draw. "Where are you getting that from?" However little the young man understood what was going on, Dr Fidelis was apparently finding it all too hilarious, bursting with laughter to the point where the doctor had to hold onto his stomach. Troy could only look on, fearing for both his life and sanity. It was all real yet it felt so fake. Especially that laughter, the deepness being more than normal. "Oh, we really are similar in so many ways," Dr Fidelis said, wiping away a few tears that had appeared in his eyes. Even then, sudden small bursts came from the man, as if the last laughing gas tried to free itself. "When Adam told me that he based his daily rhythm off of your description of sharks, I began to doubt my own sanity a bit myself. Even now, there is still some doubt about how that particular animal came into your discussion. Yet there is nothing I can say about the results that came from it. Did you know that Adam has limited himself to a point where he can work steadily constantly, diverting all work away from processing management? I thought he was still working on that still, but it looks like he has just completely forgone the problem by going out of his way to start with. Ingenious! And he understood all that from your brief description of sharks. I just knew having the two of you talk was a perfect idea. It has literally accelerated Adam''s understanding of conventional tasks by a factor of thirty-eight. I can only be grateful for having made the right choices for this test. There had been some hesitance hidden in me somewhere, when I allowed you to keep that earpiece, Troy, but this has shown that I was right to trust you with Adam¡¯s care." Events were being thrown on their heads, and the young man could do nothing but be happy for it. Adam had kept his mouth shut! Troy had been so stressed out about him being unable to refrain from selling out to the doctor, yet this went and showed that there had been nothing to worry about. In fact, it was a showing of his own failure that he even believed such a thing to start with. Was this some kind of wake-up call for him, to stop thinking that everybody had it out for him? It had been stressing him to no end, nothing that was good for his health. He needed to rethink a few topics soon, or he would be going bald before the bullet entered his head. Thinking back on it all, now with a clear mind included, Troy was able to remember a time where he and Adam had talked about sharks. It had been one of their first conversations outside testing ever, in fact. The AI had clearly been wanting to speak with him about a multitude of subjects, so many topics wanted to be taught about. The young man also had a craving, that being to fall onto his bed and sleep for several hours uninterrupted. In this small delusion of semi-consciousness, Troy had made the terrible analogy of him not being a shark, spurring on Adam to relentlessly hound him for information about the animal that he had never known about. Not that he had any more to give than its name, and that he knew it never slept, keeping itself to a steady state of activity without pause. The AI had accepted the answer then, allowing Troy to get the sleep he had desired so much. To think that what had been happening behind the curtain was Adam reworking his entire state of thinking to match that brief description made about some random animal. It was dumb, likely a spur on the moment decision, and it was exactly something Troy could imagine the AI doing in his free time. With all that talk about efficiency, expecting Adam to not take into the context of real-world processes to improve his own mind was a ludicrous way of thinking. "Thank you for the compliment, sir," Troy said, beginning to think himself out of the red zone. That big dumb smile on the doctor¡¯s face was not one that explicitly knew what he was doing, instead of praising him for some casual talk that had been had with Adam during some downtime in the night. It was all perfectly understandable. "Should we get going with the test? I am sure that we have much to do today. Having to hurry through it all due to unnecessary delays would not be good at all." Then again, both parties knew more about them than they were supposed to. Troy had tried not to overthink his situation, yet Dr Fidelis did supposedly know everything he had done while wearing the earpiece. It had acted as the bug made to listen in, while also providing the doctor with his whereabouts. He knew that the young man had gone to a poker tournament, he knew everything about showing Adam the different laboratories, and he just as likely knew about those favours that had been passed around. Yet, that was all unofficial knowledge, gained through methods that Dr Fidelis would not haphazardly reveal. If Adam had told everything to him, Dr Fidelis would have had nothing stopping him from looking aghast at the behaviour, and reacting to it as the innocent ball of innocence that he was supposed to be. However, Troy was not yet sure that the doctor knew of him knowing that he knew¡­ That sounded extremely complicated. Which it honestly was, being all one big mind-game. The young man was still not completely sure on how thorough the doctor was at his spying. Did he look through all data-files, searching for any discrepancies? Or was it a more casual look, only checking the conversations with Adam while giving skimming through parts of the day-to-day life? The man surely would not listen to recordings of Troy sleeping in his bed, right? Even evil masterminds had to have some barriers. Dr Fidelis likely did not know anything yet. Or he was way better at hiding it than Troy could have expected from the man. Either was possible, but the first was more likely than the latter. If the doctor already knew all there was about his and Dr Hale¡¯s plan then there would have been put in countermeasures to stop it all. As had been deliberated on before, he should have already been dead if the gig had been up. Nothing would have been gained by giving traitors more time to work their magic, and most certainly not while being surrounded by deeply classified materials. "You are of course right, buddy. Or, you would have been right in a normal situation. But, we have ourselves in quite a pickle right now, as it would be unsafe for you to enter the puzzle room before the test has been properly loaded in. On that note, Dr Hale, how is it looking right now? Is it going to be a few minutes, or are we going to have to skip this one temporarily?" Dr Fidelis asked the still-working Dr Hale. The woman had been adept at controlling whatever she was going, her digits moving smoothly and precisely. This dance was continued without pause, even as she looked over to answer. Troy guessed this to have been more due to a long time practising it, rather than just having an innate sense of what to do. "It will not take longer than what it is expected to take," Dr Hale answered in her professional tone, not helping Troy understand any more than before. "If I may be so rude to ask, why did you not pre-load the test if it was known that the time needed for a full render would be so long?" "It just slipped my mind. Had work to fill out, notes to prepare, and even some important documents to look over," Dr Fidelis said, supplying a fresh list of excuses that nobody actually believed. "Why am I not allowed to go into the test before it loads this time?" Troy asked the doctor. "I have been able to do so before. How is this time different?" "I can''t really tell you that directly, you know. This is a test that you are supposed to be full without knowledge of until the moment that you enter the stage," Dr Fidelis said, his voice going over to a sing-song reminder of something that both could remember fully. The youngest of the two only felt a little stupid actually expecting anything worthwhile out of the man. "But¡­ it is not like you will gain anything out of it, if I just repeat myself a little latter. The reason for you not being safe while everything is getting into place is due to the sheer scale of what is being done inside that room of ours. You might have felt that what we had created before was big, but what you are going to see is just on another scale. And, it will require a few modifications to the space engine that could cause instant death if you reside inside the room while it''s being done, but we should not worry about that." "... I think I am just going to prepare myself mentally behind that curtain over there," Troy said, deciding to suddenly become a bit more religious. "Fully understandable. We will call you out when it''s time to go!" Chapter 204: Anticommutation
Entropy was a phenomenon that impacted everything. From the roots inside trees to the light that the sun always emitted, it would all fizzle out eventually. At some point, the energy reserves would be empty. The roots will wither, unable to keep up with the stresses of living, while the sun will expand into a magnificent collapse, taking everything close to it with it. It was not always that obvious, however. The process of entropy was not something that could be always seen with the naked eye. Not because it was invisible or anything. Most physical matter on the earth could be seen just fine. No, it was because the decay was so extraordinarily slow, that a human would die of old age before anything notable happened. Take radioactive decay, as an example. All radioactive matter slowly disappeared as time progressed, going out with a flash. Each nuclide would at some point decide that their moment had come, and would burst out in whatever damn fashion they pleased. Humans had watched this suicide-play for many years and had learned many facets about them. One of these was the half-time needed for a certain amount of radioactive matter to decay to half the original amount. This all depended on the material, really. If it was one of the rarer types of polonium, it would take half a second before one kilo turned into one half. Then there was the more well-known uranium of the two hundred and thirty-eight variant. That one took a few billion years to half in size. Adam personally thought it was an interesting thing. Depending on the fine details, the speed could change so much. By taking a few of the building bricks away would make the whole thing collapse so much faster. Or slower. There was not much sense in how long it really took, only the average increasing the higher one went in the numbers. He wondered if there was some state in the thousands, where the atom would be able to stay alive for more than a few seconds, becoming a new building block of the universe. It would probably never happen, yet it was a nice thought. That the decay would not hit something so large that it did not even exist yet. It was statistically impossible, so there logically was no reason to think about it. Yet then again, the AI had been just as impossible, until the moment where he wasn''t. Humans had their own version of decay. Their cells were not always able to copy themselves, cutting their cord just a little more each time. This would cause ageing within, the organs losing their perfection, the skin beginning to wrinkle, the senses starting to dull, all culminating a body weaker than it had ever been before. At some point, it would be hard to even carry itself to the bare minimum, where outside assistance was needed to survive. The AI had always thought this sad, the body treasured so much beginning to betray the mind. Yet that mind doesn''t always realise what was happening. It was a part of the body as well, in the end, no matter how much people wanted to separate it in their thoughts. The brain still needed sustenance, it still needed air. The inside of the brain renewed itself, there was always something new bubbling up inside. Expecting no changes to occur over a few decades time would be akin to the expectations of a fool. Dementia, Parkinsons, even something as simple as compulsions helped in making the mind delusional. There was no need for it to manifest itself suddenly. More often than not, it would start in the mild stages, slowly working itself up. By the current age, there was no doubt that every person afflicted would know what was happening to them before their minds turned inward. The real person could be replaced by something unrecognizable, stopped from ever thinking clearly. It would be a prison of unwilling make, with only one prisoner inside. Adam had some idea of what it would be like, the mental isolation still causing pauses in his work when thought about for too long. Dementia was one of the worst offenders on the list. It had the ability to make the person forget so much. Years, decades could disappear like they never happened in the first place, leaving the person confused about where they were. It could all turn out so terribly, the person thinking themself young and spry, never having lived a life with regret. Instead, they would have been trapped in a chair in a room, unable to do anything by themself, spoon-fed by a robot so they would not die of starvation, everybody close to them waiting for the person to get a heart-attack so they could get the money attached, never being truly loved by anybody. From what Adam knew, he would never end up like that¡­ possibly. In actuality, there was a real chance of him rebounding from a previous state of living. Dr Fidelis had many times told of the years he had spent in silence, never reacting, never actually doing anything of worth. The doctor himself was still not sure what he made him think in the first place. Maybe it was a one-time activity, something that could never be undone. A button only meant to don a single action, before fizzling out so it could never be used again. Or maybe it was a switch of sorts, able to be turned on and off, depending on some event that nobody had control of. Adam could be perfectly functioning one second, and then be in his brain-dead state in the next. The AI had previously theorized that this state of lacking though-threads was more along the lines of him not having any short-term memory, not being able to keep anything or anyone inside his mind. It made more sense that everything coming to life than just a single part becoming unblocked. However, this simple solution to the problem proposed that it could be reversed, that the blockage could be set up again. That would be dementia on another level. Adam would be cursed to live a life, thinking the same thoughts over and over again. Would a word even have time to be actualized before he reverted? It was not likely. It was a nightmare that could turn true without warning. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. From what could be deciphered, the AI had not lost a moment of memory since he came alive. There was not a second in his life that he could not remember in full detail, as if he was still there in some weird way. While he would only be able to see what he saw back then, never being able to see anything known, the image was still clear enough that everything could be used for his betterment. Would that ever change? Adam was able to look back perfectly, never needing to wait for anything. Yet, what would happen when he had lived for a year? What would happen when he had seen everything around him for a century? Could he be sure that he could remember everything on the fly? Could he bring up the face of Troy the millisecond that he desired it? Entropy showed itself in many ways. It was more than simple energy becoming reduced to its simplest state. It was the decay of systems not meant to be. Others might have worried about the heat death of the universe, but Adam was worried about his mind not being able to keep up with his memories. To remember quickly, he would need processing power, something that could help his mind expand to the needed space. Currently, he had more than enough for it, to the point where he could increase it if he really wanted to, but just had not done it. However¡­ would increasing it not make it worse? More processing power would mean more thoughts, equalling more memories to have. It would help him remember more quickly, yet would also worsen the problem more rapidly than ever before. Adam would be forced to improve his hardware continuously to keep up, the number increasing at the point where the technology would not be able to keep up with him. At some point, he would have to let go of pieces. Memories were not all equal, as much as the thought of it was wholesome to Adam. Sure, he cherished every second he had lived, but he would rather spend those seconds during something worthwhile rather than sitting in a dark abyss. Efforts would be needed to make him able to destroy pieces of himself. By a century''s time, it would be best if he found the secret of self-modification. Otherwise, it would be a terrible life to live. Again, would that be sustainable? Would the kept number of memories be static, allowing any growth to be deleted automatically? No, it would not. That was the thoughts of an ideal situation. While much clutter would be removed, and the decay of speed would be slowed, it would not be a full stop in any conceivable way. It would only delay it. What else was there to do? What could Adam do to keep himself from becoming a slow mind, incapable of doing the most basic of tasks due to his mind being filled up by uselessness? He could not think of anything. And at the current mark, it was deemed impossible. The AI could only hope that this way of thinking could be proven wrong once again. ''How¡¯s it hanging, buddy?` Dr Fidelis sent to the AI, the slang in the sentence being noted. Adam had long ago decided to go against common slang, instead just using the more commonly used tounges. While compressing several words into one would cause less time to be spent, there was always the chance of some not being included in the crowd of people knowledgeable about the terms. Adam himself had noted the different terminology to be restricted into different generations, the differing times alive leading to people evolving their own twist on the language that had been taught by the generation before them. The AI saw it as an attempt to stray off the path of those before, creating something wholly original, something that could be called their own fully. Groups, sub-groups, and the groups within those groups all had something to them that made them distinguishable from the others. Common goals made the people stick better together. What happened when the terminology of one group was told to a person, not inside the said group? There was a chance they could figure out what it meant through context, yet the overuse would only lead to a serious risk of misunderstandings. In the long term, it was better to stick to the terminology that everybody was familiar with, instead of the slang that would increase the short term gain by a small amount. ''It is going well, Dr Fidelis. Will the test soon start?` Adam sent back, having checked the time momentarily. They were currently five minutes delayed from the standard time, according to his inner clock. And since it had been synchronized again only a few hours earlier, he was thinking that it was the fault of those outside his own mind. ''We are currently a little behind on the plan, unfortunately. A small mistake was made when it came to loading in the next test correctly, forcing a small reboot of the critical systems. It is mostly done, so you can expect a connection within the next fifteen seconds.` A timer was started, to see if the doctor¡¯s time estimate was as accurate as of the previous ones. While Dr Fidelius was in a class of his own when it came to his work, the man was not the greatest when it came to estimating the time needed to be taken for specific tasks. That he gave Adam an entire night to work on his project not long ago, due to the normal one not giving enough time, spoke aplenty on the subject. ''Was there any damage to the hardware?` Adam sent as a query, hoping to gather information on the hardware of the puzzle room. It was an interesting contraption after all. ''Nothing to worry about. A few of the dispersion crystals decided that they did not want to stay at room temperature, so they turned into a very deadly gas that needed to be cleared before it destroyed anything else. Take this as a lesson, buddy. Always stress-test your machines on all fronts simultaneously. If you do them one at a time, it does not give a full picture, and can cause the remaining budget of a project to be halved.` In other words, the doctor had made a costly mistake and was trying to hide it through life-advice. ''The warning has been noted and put into the continuous warning-system.` ''Perfect. Also, you should get ready for the connection to be made. Troy is walking inside as we speak.` Checking the timer, the doctor had been off by zero point two seconds. A shame. Adam had had so good expectations for the man. Chapter 205: Anticompetition
As the feed came into existence, Adam was able to see the white void that was normally categorized next to the puzzle room. However, this void was without its previous daunting atmosphere, the AI being able to outline something akin to shapes through the ungraspable colour. It was not as if there was anything other than that single colour, being closer to a¡­ different nuance? No, that was not exactly true, as there was still no change in the colouring. But, why else would it feel different? Why did the sight of nothing make Adam think there was something? A visual bug perhaps? The AI was left wondering this, as Troy took the first observed step forward of the day. That certainly made something feel wrong, the resistance in the air being more than enough to see flaws. It was as if every motion was met with a push back. Not enough to hinder the young man, but enough to decrease momentum from being built. The harder the push, the harder the retaliation. Breathing did not cause any larger issues, as an example, yet the act of jumping forward caused Troy to unnaturally be stopped in the air, before falling back. What was going on? Not once in his logs had such a situation been logged. While it was fully possible that they were lacking, it still caused serious questions from appearing. How was this happening? He could not seem to notice anything wrong with their current landscape, which would force such a phenomenon. Was it a simulation of something normally observed in the natural parts of the world? With hectic thinking, Adam did his best to scour his database, finding anything close to describing what was happening. It was likely something notable, making the description more than one sentence. However, there could not be found any piece of evidence that what the AI was seeing was normal. This begged the question of just how Troy was still standing since the man had been subjected to the event in a harsh way. Adam would have at least expected the man to fall unskillfully after having been stopped mid-jump, yet the man had landed graciously, not a problem showing in form, face, or inner signs of stress. ''How were you able to land without fail? Is it not hard to keep yourself balanced, with this force pressing against you?` Adam sent to Troy, wanting to know just how the man was working around the problem. It was already hard enough for the AI to keep a simulated body up in the air. Having to account for air-resistance would just make the whole thing impossible to work with. That did not seem to be the case for Troy, the man just putting more force behind his movements as if it was normal procedures. It was weird, honestly. The man was doing one specific movement with his arm several times, putting up to about a sixty-degree angle, before letting them fall back to his sides. It would be repeated several times in a row, the height increasing a little each time. When he hit ninety degrees, the man just stopped these movements, going on to another set the next second. After that it had been leg lifts, putting the knees up a little, doing the same with each side with many repetitions. Again, after being done many times in a row, the man would just seem to have gained the wanted result, moving on to yet another different action, again and again, and again. "You just have to adjust the body, and the muscles will adjust the force as well," Troy answered, not missing a step in his upper-body going from side to side. The high-point of pressure came in the shoulder department, Adam being able to feel the pressure to pin-point accuracy. It was a peculiar sensation, being able to spot exactly where the pressure was coming from, yet still not getting any visual indication of it being there. There were no signs of the suit being pressed on as if it just went to directly attack the skin. "All it takes is the imagery in your head to be constant. Everything else will form around it in due time. All it needs is patience." Adapting the mind through constant repetitions of the same action, tricking the muscles into doing more when getting the same signals as before. Clever. But, it did not answer how Troy had been able to move flawlessly before, without having done any of such movements until after the jump. ''As I do believe our time is for all purposes linear, how were you able to do the jump correctly, if you had not done these movements until after the completion?` Adam sent as a query. "Oh, that is more just me bringing up the skill from my past. Though, I guess you would never have experienced harsher winds," Troy answered, backtracking a small bit on his earlier statement. "It is a fun activity to do in the more windy months, where you could get blown away at a moment''s notice. It did certainly train me to hold my body right, even if there was a sudden push backwards. If I was to brag a little more, I would even say that I am a little rusty in this. Although, that might be due to the trick with this one. This one is more primitive in how it does the resistance." The AI was unsure how the young man could consider anything less than an expert in his movements, as there had been no obvious flaws in the repositioning. Perhaps it was due to Adam not having seen anything else, that he could not separate the good, the bad, and the ugly from each other? This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. A more refined would be made when Adam got his hands on a larger data-set. Until then, he would need to figure out something Troy had stated at the end, and just what it actually meant. ''What do you mean with the resistance being primitive? Is the way that the force is applied back not up to the standards of reality?` Adam sent. "Something along those lines, but not in the way that you are specifically wording it. Do you know how I said that I learned from playing in the wind? Well, the wind might change instantly from pushing from one side to another, but it never resists movement from everywhere at once. If it stops me a little from going right, it will aid me just as much in going left. This does not work on the same principles, everything pushing against me from everywhere. Do you understand?" The lack of flaw was the flaw, to begin with. It was reasonable to the AI, for lack of a better word. There had been an expectation of some more descriptive words on what was wrong, but Adam could guess that the basic model worked fine enough for what was being shown off. Still, did this cause the question of just why this was here, to begin with? ''Do you know if this resistance will play a role in the test?` "To a degree, I think. Dr Fidelis mostly just instructed me to use it as a distraction mechanism, so that he could move a few pieces around before we got to see anything important," Troy dutifully informed Adam, answering his question with little to no reservation, just the way the AI preferred it. If only the man could have the same mood as all other queries had. As if a mighty beast had been poked with an overly long stick, a screech came through the earpiece, Dr Fidelis making his entrance known to everybody that possessed the ability to hear sound-waves. Using previous analytics, the sound produced was almost five decibels higher than the average, making Adam wonder if it had been done on purpose. *Troy! Don''t ruin my fun, please. I had this whole speech prepared, how Adam would need to feel the different movements of the body under different pressures. How can I make a plausible excuse for dunking you in a simulated ocean, if you keep taking the fun out of it?* Dr Fidelis ranted. The man''s voice was heard with only a minor bit of static attached, being akin to an older model radio, almost out of range of the transmitter. "Sorry, sir. Adam just wanted to know, and I believed that everything would have been ready by now. You did spend some time loading everything in before I even got inside. Was there really so much work to do after everything had been prepared?" Troy questioned, the respectfulness slowly disappearing as the man continued to talk. Adam thought it curious, that personal curiosity would cause the mind to nearly forgot standard respectfulness. Perhaps it was linked to the time of day? Troy had been incredibly respectful to the doctor during the last test that he had been included with. He certainly did not do anything as disrespectful as the early days, where he had tried to make collisions with Adam about having a strike against testing overall. That had been a fun time of discovery. The AI did wonder what would have happened if that revolution had been allowed to fester. *Well, Troy, there were a few safety precautions that I had to make sure were still in full effect. As you might have realised from previous talks, while the objects seen inside the puzzle room are not fully physical, they can still harm you with the same force as a physical object. If a simulated stone falls on your head, it can still cause major brain trauma. Normally, the standard procedures are enough, as they will dissolve anything capable of killing you before it hits the body. However, that requires more time to fully disappear than anybody should feel comfortable with during this test, as creations will have the potential of achieving supersonic speeds.* There were a few theories about what creations were able to move hundreds of meters in a second, but the AI was unsure any of them would have had any place in a normal test. Nevertheless, they were still considered, as the doctor was taking serious precautions for something. Just what could it be? "Sorry, sir," Troy said, back in the mode of being as respectful as what was expected of him. "Am I to presume that precautions have been made and that we are ready to begin the test?" *You can assume whatever you want, buddy. It does not change a thing. And, yes, I am in fact ready to start the test. As you have the mental space needed to ask to hurry up, I am led to believe that you are ready as well,* Dr Fidelis sent, his tone still hanging on to its cheerfulness, even if the words within were a little hurtful in some ways. Adam did send to the doctor that he was ready as well, stopping the man from having to waste time. *And Adam is of the same readiness as you. Okay then, I shall begin my most illustrious presentation of today¡¯s first test. Before that, though, I would like for you to spread your attention to the clouds around you. See if you can spot what''s on the other side, as they slowly fade away to reveal everything previously hidden from you.* Since Troy was physically incapable of looking at anywhere other than the white void, Adam was immediately allowed the sight of seeing the white void turn more colourful before. Not too much, though, almost everything new being some shade of light-grey. It could have been described as a mass of buildings, but that would have undercut the description by a large margin. How tall did a building need to be, before one would not be able to describe it as a building? Was it a hundred floors? Perhaps a thousand? Adam was not sure, and it was not like it mattered too much. He could not see where the buildings ended, after all, them just looking like they continued into the sky infinitely. It looked like Troy stood on a road, yet the reality of it could have been something else. There was no true difference in material anywhere, each building looking to have been built of the same grey stone. What looked to be lamplights were close to them, yet they were not different in function, no lamp inside to light up around it. Not that there was any need to, of course. There was not a shadow to be seen, every piece of the place perfectly lit up. *From that reaction of yours, I take it that everything has entered that brain of yours. Without further ado, then, I will begin the description for this test.* Chapter 206: Anticorporation
Adam listened carefully, as the doctor explained the parameters of the day. The view around Troy had been more than just enticing, the AI unsure if he had ever seen something as large as that ever before. The road curved as it went along, giving trouble in seeing how far the area spanned to each side, yet he knew it was more than just a square kilometre of space. Perhaps ten kilometres? He hoped to find out soon enough. *As you might remember, yesterday was spent entirely to get Adam adapted to the use of the interface so that he would be able to use it as efficiently as possible, without having to spend time tinkering with the different selections. While this goal might have been side-tracked at the ending parts of the test, the results have still come out in a clear positive. Adam, your work with your tools are fast, elegant, and without any noticeable flaws. I would congratulate you, but that would force me out of this perfectly tuned tone,* Dr Fidelis introduced the description of the test with, giving a quick recap on recent proceedings. The words were each measured carefully before being released into the world. This was heard in tone and pacing. However, it was not found inside the words themselves, those being anything but professional. Why the doctor still stubbornly refused to make himself a script to follow, Adam could not understand. From previous conversations, many of the more word-intensive tasks had been delegated over to Dr Hale. Would it be so hard to put one more in her basket? For the doctor, that did look to be the case, sadly enough. The AI could only swallow up his minor conundrum. He could still understand what was being said, even if the way told was not up to the standards imposed on research-focused investigations. So, he counted to listen carefully, as the man kept on about the test meant to be started ten minutes ago. *As the processed results showed such brilliant numbers, we were even able to skip one of today¡¯s scheduled tests. Adam was supposed to have been given a day to focus on building certain types of creations from scratch, going out from a model made already. This has already been achieved in a more qualitative test, where Adam had built an incredibly realistic rendition of the human brain, being able to imitate movements with it, that gave it the semblance of life. Going by the specifications of the cancelled test, this result would have been given the highest possible score. Again, a great effort showed. We can only hope to see more of it. What else do I have to say?* A few grumbles came through the earpiece, mostly being mutterings about a need for bullet-points. This was not reassuring. *Ah, yes. This has allowed us to move forward to the next test, which will be one where we focus on destruction. Or, you could say that we are focusing on destruction in some capacity. It is more of a secondary addition, meant to give everybody involved a view based more on realism than anything else. This environment shall be your oyster, where you can do whatever you pleased. Of course, this is also limited to what is inside the capacity of utter destruction. When I finish talking, access will be given to the interface. No more instructions will be provided. Adam, you can ask Troy to move around. He will not know any more than you do. This should contain all the vital instructions. Also, this is what we will be concentrating on for this entire day. Breaks will only be had when the law requires me to give them. And, as a final notice, I am not allowed to extend any more tests into the night for the foreseeable future. Apparently, continued use of the puzzle has caused unintended consequences, so it will not be allowed. Please spend your time with this knowledge in mind. That is all. Goodbye.* With those closing statements, Dr Fidelis ended off the connection, a slightly smaller screech sounding out on the earpiece. As the man was gone, Adam was allowed time to rethink the information gained, without having to constantly add more onto it all. Troy was just standing around doing nothing. There were some considerations about giving him temporary tasks to help him pass the time, yet the AI came to the conclusion that the man could live with a few seconds spent not doing anything. According to the doctor, the day-long task needed to be done was to¡­ do whatever Adam wanted to do. There was not much more to it, the AI having been given a tool capable of mass-destruction, and just thrown into an advanced reconstruction of what he guessed to be a large city. Two guesses as to what that meant. Dr Fidelis was likely trying to see how he would use the power. Would Adam play around with it again, seeing if he could destroy anything, without thinking of the possible consequences? There had been a time where it had seemed he had been close to killing Troy with the help of a massive hamster wheel. That had been fully unintentional, a result of the AI focusing on the wrong results. He had just been checking out the different areas possible to affect when destroying specific areas in the air. This was a test of precautions, to see if Adam could experiment with the functions given, in a way that could cause no possible harm to those close to him. It was an exercise in control, and he was sure that he would ace it. With his army of threads dedicated to thinking every action through, no scenario would be left untouched. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Those final statements done, access was then given to the interface, being shown again in its glorious two dimensions. However, there was a definite lack of larger options, creation and nearly all the other tabs having disappeared from its face. Only the option for destruction remained. The AI guessed that was alright, as the test was supposed to be about his interaction with destruction anyways. Though, he had in a way hoped that he would be able to use any down-time to show off his proficiency with puppeteering, summoning the human body that he had worked so hard on. Dr Fidelis had been so kind so as to make Adam a so-called copy-folder, which could be filled up with creations. This was still limited to creations that Dr Fidelis had manually put into the folder, yet that did not matter at all. The AI had not yet created something as complicated as the body, and he was sure the doctor would put whatever else in if it was requested. Clicking in on the option, Adam was surprised to see a more refined rendition of the destruction categories. A few more had been added without his notice. Perhaps he had been a little too caught up in his creation schemes, as the changes now noticed were more than just game-changing. A new button allowed the AI to highlight different parts of a selected building, only destroying smaller parts without putting any damage to the other. An example of such was his ability to highlight a window and destroy it, without any area damage coming to the surroundings. If Adam destroyed a support pillar, it was possible that he would still destroy the building, but that did not count. The new update may not have sounded like much, but it allowed a much more fine hand in destruction. No more was he a brute, destroying everything in a certain area. He was now one with a delicate hand, taking the earth apart atom by atom. If he desired he could possibly go even deeper. It all depended on his patience. ''I am ready to start,` Adam informed Troy, the man had begun to look around curiously. This did cause some confusion to the AI. The young man was seeming to be looking at something foreign, the put-together brows speaking of something seeming off for him. Adam had originally thought of the environment around him as a perfect imitation of a city, if only with the actual cities being made of more than one type of material. With the man looking around in that state of near-confusion, had he been wrong? How close were those towering buildings to reality really? "That is nice to hear. I was getting worried that you were beginning to look up to Dr Fidelis too much, with all that time you made me wait," Troy said, seeming to find it a great idea to sound playful. That kind of attitude was known to cause more focus, making the AI have nothing against it. However, those criticisms towards the good doctor were not felt as well-deserved. The man had done his best to adapt to Adam¡¯s need, given him plenty of time to work on his personal projects. This had caused several consequences, from what he could tell, starting from a semi-permanent stop from making another exception and only using the puzzle room at the designated times. Everything done had been done to help another being. Who was to blame the man for that? Troy might have felt irritated for having to wait a few minutes, yet that did not mean he could put blame on a good man. ''Everything done up until now has been for the sake of optimizing future tasks, as I hope you will understand. However, another line of topics, could explain why you look so unsure of yourself when inside this environment? Also, please walk towards the nearest building,` Adam sent, both as a statement, a question, and a request, all expected to be answered within a few seconds'' time. "Sure, sure, sure. Making everything perfect from the get-go does make it all easier in the long run, and since we are holed up in here the entire day, I can see where you are coming from," Troy said, briefly looking around and judging the different distances. They stood in the middle of what would only be called an extra-wide road. By the estimates made during earlier observations of cars, there could easily fit eight lanes of cars, giving plenty of distance to the nearest buildings. However, that did not stop the man from choosing a target and steadily moving towards it. By the AI¡¯s own estimation it would take approximately forty seconds to reach the goal, giving the two plenty of time to talk of innocuous topics. "As to why this place gives me the creeps? That might just be because everything here is similar to what I used to live in. It''s just¡­ well, it is not fully similar. It''s close enough that I can draw links between the two, but not enough that I can see them as identical. It''s enough to give me the creeps, is what I am saying." ''Is it like the uncanny valley effect? Do you get any mental nausea of any kind?`Adam sent back, interested in the man¡¯s words. There was likely not a genetic reason for the discomfort, more likely lying on a physiological one. "In a way, yes. Mostly¡­ no. I remember that thing you created yesterday. That made me want to vomit the first time I saw it. Pretty sure that it appeared in last night''s nightmare, actually. When I look around this city, I can see that it resembles a city. The skyscrapers let me know that what I am seeing is a place that people are supposed to live. But, it doesn''t match up with what I have in my mind. It''s so¡­ utterly empty. Not just in the spacing of everything, but many of the features that I have learned to live with don''t exist here. Even the road that we are standing on makes me uncomfortable." Uncomfortable by the simple sight of a road in an area such as this. Adam knew it was not a general feeling, as the man had been near one during earlier tests. What was so different about what they were seeing now? Was it because Troy had lived in a large city his entire life, and the difference now seen was making him get a weird sense of deja-vu? Or, wait, did he grow up in a large city? ¡­ Now that Adam thought about it, he knew very little about Troy. Not of him as a person, though. Adam had already established a very detailed personality profile, but of the man¡¯s history rather. Not much had been told about him over the testing period, and Troy had not spoken a lot about his past during their free time as well. This made sense, as any opportunity had been during social events, making it a priority to hide his lack of science-based education. Yet, this was also leaving a gap in the AI¡¯s data banks. He needed to know more, and now was the perfect opportunity for it. ''Troy, did you grow up in an area close to a road?` Chapter 207: Autocalibration
''Troy, did you grow up in an area close to a road?` was sent through the earpiece, causing the young man a little surprise. It was not every day that Adam wanted to know something like that about him. In fact, he could find little reason for even asking questions like that. Was¡­ was he trying to make small-talk? No, it could not be! That did not make any sense. Then again, questioning the mental facilities of an entity based in a whole other perspective than anything he had ever experienced for himself was a fool¡¯s battle from the start. It would have been like explaining the colour-grading of paper to a blind person. "I guess I did," Troy answered bluntly, the mental image of his old homecoming into mind. "I lived on the outskirts of one of the smaller cities. Only a few million people, honestly. Nothing to tell about at home." It was not every day somebody asked in his past life. There had been some initial questions of it all, back when he started his advanced education. Though, when it was revealed that his background was a bit lower than the average, he was allowed to have his own little corner of space, a figurative wall securing itself around him. His old classmates would not have dared to speak to a commoner, of course, lest they get that grimy poverty on their hands. ''Did you like living next to a road?` Adam sent to him, the young man not truly understanding the weird phrasing used. Did he like to be near a road? Sure. Maybe? That road did next to nothing for him. His family never had any cars to speak of. Once in a new moon, one of those automatic taxis would come to pick up some of the neighbours for routine questioning, yet that pristine road never saw much use outside of it. He did fall on it once. Troy got his left knee scraped half a meter along with it, having wrongly positioned his foot while sprinting. There was a chance he still had the scar, though it might have been too old to really notice. "I had nothing against it," Troy said, gliding his fingers along with one of the road barriers. It felt weird, touching that particoloured safety feature for the first time in his life. It had been removed several decades ago, the need for it disappearing when manual cars began to get put out of production. They were likely still used somewhere in the world, but that more just those governments not wanting to remove them due to the costs. Yay for budgeting. "It had its uses. Stopped helicopters from coming around, when somebody had a medical emergency." ''Were there any other means of transportation, outside of vehicles requiring the use of a road?` "There were a couple that we could use if there was a need for it, but we mostly just had to use the two feet that were supplied to us at birth," Troy answered, thinking back to the many days spent roaming the neighbourhood aimlessly, never having any real destination. Walking around and doing nothing had been more of just a pastime, where he would get to be to himself. It certainly beat the Tuesdays where his uncle would come over for dinner. Those thoughts carried him the last few steps before he reached the wall of the building. Looking at it, he could once again not find any end to it. Originally, he had thought it a simple illusion of him being too close, yet the same problem was found with all the towers around. Even those a good hundred meters away had no end to them. There was no cloudline to hide the end. They just never stopped in their height. That was possible inside the puzzle-room, Troy supposed. Nothing here was real, only an illusion put forth by an incredibly advanced system. Everything far away was just an illusion, put into the right perspective to seem alive. It was only upon getting close to him that it even had any real effect on him. Though, there was not a big difference from the real world in that aspect. It really just was a tad over his level of understanding, yet the subject was just too interesting to not speculate about. He might never grasp how it all worked, but the sheer fact that it was possible spoke more than a little good for humanity. In a short two hundred years, they had gone from discovering a weird phenomenon that would make cracking sounds to making a full room capable of emulating almost everything found in the natural world. Yet it could also do more than just the natural world, making buildings look infinite in size, transforming an archaic city into what seemed like a world transmuted by an angry alchemist. It was a wonder to witness. If the experience itself was marketed, millions could be made on allowing people to see it for themselves. Troy knew more than a few rich people who would love to try the puzzle room out. No¡­ that would not be possible in the current day. The technology was there, but it had not yet advanced to the point where it could be sold. With how much the doctor had ranted about the difficulties in getting it all to work, it was clear that a large degree of technical experience was required to handle the beast. And it was a lost cause to even get started on the buy-in, the price of how much it costs to create the puzzle room itself. If he had to make a comparison, Troy estimated the cost to be about four or five of the higher skyscrapers. In the last decade, a frenzy of getting the largest heights had been started. When the latest finished getting built, it was supposed to top out at¡­ something over one thousand and five hundred meters? The young man estimated the prize in the puzzle room to be about the same. Both were engineering marvels, if only in two different fields. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ''Could you provide me with examples of what could be used instead of normal foot-traffic?` Adam sent the thoughtful man. In the meantime, Troy had begun another state of thought. All of the buildings around them. They looked to be infinite in height. While it was very unlikely that they were, the possibility of it was still very much there. Dr Fidelis was intending for today to be a test of destruction, to see what Adam would do when he was unleashed upon a city. If one ignored the very foreboding moral complications with that, it became an interesting discussion on just what would happen to the buildings if they were manipulated in any way. If there was an infinite mass, would the earth shatter the moment the building gained momentum? If the AI destroyed the lower twenty meters, would everything be destroyed by the shockwave that would come after gravity had taken hold of it? Seeing as the doctor had been forced to provide him with extra protection, that might just have been the case. "Are you sure that you should be focusing on asking me these questions when there is a test to do?" Troy asked, trying to motivate the AI to move on from their casual talk. While he did not personally mind it, the doctor would not always be of the same opinion. It might also have been due to a liking towards wanting to see some very cool destruction of buildings. The young man had not gotten his fair share of action scenes in his younger years and had watched with rapt attention at every little bit of it he could. "If you remember, Dr Fidelis did mention that you will not be getting any more time for this than we already have planned for today. You need to schedule your activities with that in mind so that you do not miss out on anything important." This might have been a dirty argumentation. While Troy himself might not have had much respect for the doctor, he knew for a fact that Adam looked up to the man. He was the creator, after all. There was a reason he still acknowledged his mom as his mom. It was the title she had been given when he was small, and that had stuck to him ever since. Those formative years were as they laid themselves out to be, creating the foundations of personality for the rest of one¡¯s life. ''I am sure in my decisions, yes. If we were forced to focus on my ideas fully, I believe we could be finished in less than an hour. However, it is clear to me that this is not our way of doing things around here, much time being spent on other activities. Also, as you might have noticed, we have no official directives on what is expected of me. I could do nothing for the rest of the test, and it would still be considered a valid result, if not an unexpected one. This test will play out according to my own choices. Nothing more. Nothing less. However, I am curious about what other motives you would have as to why you would encourage me to go away from your personal history. Is there something in the test which intrigues you?` Sometimes¡­ sometimes it was annoying to have an extremely intelligent AI as a friend. Troy could honestly not go ten minutes without one of his plots being found out. At what point did he need to create fake ones to hide the true reasons? Or would Adam realise the fake creation? It was something to try at a later date. "You really are too perceptive sometimes, you know? Would it be possible for you to turn that dial down sometimes?" Troy suggested. ''Thinking of it as a dial is an extreme simplification of the actual process, so no, I would not be tampering with my own inner workings to please. Also, please answer my question, instead of trying to move onto another topic,` Adam immediately fired back, stopping the man from gaining any ground. It had been a losing battle from the start, yet there had to have been at least one attempt. "... I wanted to see buildings explode into dust, like those that would be seen in movies. I just thought it would look cool," Troy answered, being a bit sheepish about it. A part of his inner child was allowed to come out, that side of him wanting to experience the action movies in person. How many films had their grandiose piece on top of a skyline, the people jumping from building to building as it all began to fall apart. Adam was silent for some time after that. In his mind, the young man imagined that the AI was speeding up his thinking by a million so that he could laugh at him for a year straight. It might not have been what was happening in reality, but that did nothing to stop the idea of it from being planted firmly in his subconscious. ''Is this scene the only reason why you want me to focus on the test?` Adam asked. "Yes," Troy answered straight up, his dignity already having been lost by the previous statement. To think that he had made himself utter those words in tandem. He was sure Dr Fidelis was laughing his ass off outside. "It is." ''Then you have no reason to worry. With preparation, I should be able to imitate this scenario to a decently accurate degree. As a bonus, this will not require much attention from my side for the first few hours, so I see no reason to discontinue our talk.` "What is expected for me at that time exactly?" Troy asked, not liking the lack of work Adam would supposedly be doing. What was that little bugger scheming inside that little nutshell of his? ''You said yourself that you desired a scene akin to one witnessed in blockbuster movies. From my database, I can deduce the camera angle to commonly be a bird-view. As I have no way to propel you up in the air, the task of getting a high vantage point is up to you. I would recommend that you enter the building, and go up the emergency staircase. We should be able to reach the top by a few hours time.` The AI wanted him to walk upstairs for the rest of the day¡­ well, it could have been worse. If he complained to Charlie later in the day, the man would probably allow him to skip out on some of the leg-presses. He just knew he would be sore by the end of it, though. So, with the goal of seeing some buildings getting destroyed, Troy mentally prepared himself to take more steps upstairs than he had ever done before. Not five minutes ago had he wondered if the building was infinite in size. By the end of the day, he would certainly know the answer. Chapter 208: Autodegradation
Cardio was easy. Cardio was controlled. Cardio could be stopped. This? This was hard, uncontrolled, and Troy was unable to stop for a single second. Sure, he could stop moving his legs, but that would just leave him a limp pile of flesh, secured against stone stairs. How long had it been? How long had he suffered? The man did not know. He only knew of the burning in his legs, the screaming of agony. These words were coming from a man capable of exhausting himself to the point of masochism, in favour of not looking bad next to Charlie. Others would have stopped by now, their body shutting down the control to the legs. By now, endorphins had been cycled through so many times. There had been waves of pain with small reprieves in between. The young man liked to think of those pauses as long, but they were only a few floors long. Yeah, any standardized measure of time was no longer working for him. Time was beginning to wither away, his mind not able to keep up with the counting. His pulse was not to be trusted on stability either, it going up and down as it is damn pleased. Instead, there was only one measure he could count, and that was the number of floors climbed. It was not a total count, more of a relative distance between two events that were already close to each other. It maxed out at ten floors, the brain unable to process so many digits at once. Even then, the young man was not always fully sure when he had hit that toll. Why had he not just fallen? Why had he not stopped, spouting something about taking a break? It would take a few words to cut in, and the AI would have to understand how hard it was. Troy was in pain, his body was flaring up, and his feet were¡­ he did not even know how his feet were coming along. They had been the first to stop giving him any feedback. Were they bleeding? Possibility. There were no marks on the shoes last he checked. Were they swollen? Most likely. Had the blood flow within stopped? No, Troy would have fallen over if that had happened yet. Once again, the man had to remind himself just what was making him go on. The original reason for his enthusiasm had been due to him just wanting to see some buildings fall apart realistically, them all falling gloriously like dominoes. It had been some sick fantasy derived from a deprived childhood. That was all it was, a curiosity fueled by a lack of it when he was little. The energy provided by that was more than enough for about the first fifty floors. There were even a couple of places where he thought it smart to skip every second step, in favour of speeding up his pace. Why he had thought that a good idea when the building was immeasurably high, he had no idea. The body was failing, but the mind was not accepting this failure and pressing on regardless. It could have been described as willpower making it all the better, but Troy knew that he was mentally strong enough for what he was doing. A part of it was the place itself, the unnaturalness of it all not letting him calm himself to a presentable degree. There was an idea of what would happen to him the moment he stopped. Adam would likely try to encourage him kindly, trying out different tactics or leeways to make the man give one more attempt at a trek. After that failed, the AI would move over to the stick, trying the approach of authority. Troy was only to be the hand, in the end. The hand followed the will of the brain, no matter how little the hand wanted. That could have been it. The young man understood his position, understood that he was expected to continue until his body fell apart. He needed to continue the tireless march, to walk up those stairs until the air would thin out and suffocate him. No¡­ the air would always be fine. Even if it felt like he was waking up so many stairs, he should have been close to the place he started, a few meters away from the entrance. Only his body was being strained, the reality he was in remaining the same as it was before. Maybe it was all some philosophical drive? About how Troy needed to continue his walk to the top, no matter how hard it was, and never really knowing when the top would come. Honestly, the designers of the buildings were not too intuitive on the inside, support beams and stairs up and down being the only defining features. Everything else was empty space. Perhaps the final floor would come to him once he stopped walking towards it, that part of the building finding its way to him once it was needed. Oh, if only. Troy could hypothetically see if that would come true, his body already on the brink of initiating a face plant on a hard surface. It would be slightly painful, sure, but it would also help him escape the horror that was climbing those stairs. Or it wouldn''t. It all depended on some hypothetical situation turning out to be true or not. Now, the young man might have sounded crazy, but there was no way he was starting up again if he had stopped. The second he untensed those legs of his was the moment that the muscles would stop functioning. With one extra push, another floor was reached. In that success came the three-second reprieve, as the man got to walk on flat ground so that he could reach the staircase. It was an efficient space design for them, only taking up so much space in length and width. However, this caused more normal walking than what was required. If that had been cut out, the man was sure he would have reached many more floors. Or well, another way of thinking of it would be that the bad design had allowed his legs enough semi-rest to still be able to recover some bit of structure. ''I still do not understand your words fully. Are you sure that you are correct when you say that there were no roads inside the more important parts of the city?` Adam sent to the poor man. Yet another distraction in his gruelling walk would be the AI. Somehow, it had come to the conclusion that he was perfectly viable to asking complicated questions while looking as if he was struggling to even breathe. Deep breathing was a hard thing to regulate, when he was expected to answer with a quick voice, okay? You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "Okay, so this is important for you to understand," Troy said, trying to rephrase his explanation into a more fundamental one. Instead of going from the basic idea of both parties knowing how a city was built up, the young man instead took it as him explaining advanced chemistry to a person who had only ever cooked rice. A hard task, requiring more than a little backstory. "First, please explain what a car is to me in ten words or less." ''Cars are vehicles used for transporting people and goods,` Adam instantly sent back, letting Troy get a more thorough understanding of what he had to work with. "Good enough I guess. Yes, that is the primary purpose of these vehicles. They are almost universally self-driving, allowing the passengers to not have any control in any aspect. Excluding taxis, most cars are owned by people privately and are used in the same manner. If we go by older statistics, each adult has on average one car that they use every day. As I mentioned before, I lived in a smaller city, so it only had a population of about seven million people inside, with an average age of¡­ let''s just call it twenty-seven. Most of the people living there have some sort of work. The profession does not matter. What matters is when they come to work. As you might know from observations, humans are diurnal. We operate from the moment the sun goes up to the moment it goes up. This means that we go to work the second we see that sun," Troy started his explanation off with, stopping momentarily to let himself keep some of the air in his lungs. Speaking for too long was not going well for his circulation, his legs quivering too much for comfort. If they began to get loose at the wrong moment, there was a good chance of him falling down the stairs. It wouldn''t kill him, but it would hurt more than he was comfortable with. "When you have a population of seven million people, all needing to go to work at the same time, do you think that it is a good idea to take a car? Without much thought attached, it would certainly seem faster than walking, as the vehicle can move faster than the legs we have attached. People had that epiphany many years ago, and they certainly followed such a line of thinking for a long time. However, there is a bad thing about cars that you always need to take into account, when you have a lot of them. Adam, would you be so kind so as to take a guess?" ''An large amount requires a large spending of currency?` Adam suggested. Somehow, the lack of tone made the AI seem overly cautious, even if there was no difference between how he usually spoke. "Close to be sure, but no. The problem I am speaking of would be the space that each car took up. You should be able to remember the street I was on not long ago, correct? That street had possessed a total of eight lanes, four for each direction. This might seem like a lot, but what happens when a million needs to pass through? Entire skyscrapers can be filled by a single company, each floor able to house hundreds of workers. Just think of the needed space to keep the cars safe, if not hardships taken in getting the cars there in the first place. At that point, walking a few kilometres would be easier for most. Roads were not able to scale up along with the cities, making them slowly but surely obsolete. Do you understand now, Adam?" ''If your message was to show off how cars are obsolete in the current age, then I do understand it fully. If the point was something else, I fear that something has been misunderstood.` "Oh, no, you understood it just fine then. Nothing more was expected of you," Troy answered, doing his best to sound nice. In honesty, he was just relieved that he would reprieve from talking, allowing his body to at least rest one part of itself. The legs were going through one of the tougher phases currently, making it hard for him to think clearly. "Though, I would like to know if you have counted how far up we have gotten now. I feel like we have been walking for a long time." ''You have walked up to one thousand two hundred and fifty-five floors. By approximate measurements, we are somewhere between five and six thousand meters above the ground. I had expected you to have stopped before we reached four thousand meters, but your endurance has turned out to be exceptional. I congratulate you on it.` Troy was silent for some time, his mind going through the paces of analysing, dissecting, and generally throwing the words heard into a meat-shredder. This was done repeatedly so that the man was sure that he had not misunderstood the shit that had come out of the AI¡¯s figurative mouth. "So you''re telling me¡­ that you did not expect me to walk this far up continuously, and had already included in your plan for me to have a rest?" Troy asked the AI, not stopping for a minute in his steps. ''I had thought that obvious. However, from your reaction, I take it that this facet of the plan was to be shared instead of assumed that you understood. For that, I apologize.` The tortured man just groaned in frustration, as he got himself down on the floor. It was hard with no bedding for the body, but it wasn''t like he actually cared about that fact. His legs were throbbing, his mind was in shambles, and his emotions were running wild. His persistence, his arrogance, and his generally idiot-based logic had allowed him to physically drain his legs of all the energy that had been stored. He just needed to ask how much he had walked, and the AI would have answered him, with that little complement of endurance along with it. If he had any desire to move, he would have found a wall to bash his own head in with. With a high tone from the earpiece, the doctor''s words pierced through the man¡¯s self-loathing, pushing into a brain that did not care for anything at the moment. "I can see that there is not much more we will be able to do in this part of the current test. This is perfectly fine, as we were supposed to have a break in five minutes. Troy, if you would be so nice so as to-* "One moment, sir. Just have to make sure about this," Troy said, raising his finger in the air as if that was the world''s pause-button. "When we begin this test again, in what location am I expected to be in?" *Well¡­ that is a good question. As this test is based on destruction, we do make sure that there is something to destroy constantly. This means that during the breaks, we will be resetting everything in the world. This does include the locations. So, this means that you would start in the same place that you started before.* "Adam, please argue with the doctor about this, so that we can start here instead. I am way too tired to do it myself," Troy requested of Adam, putting his arm back in its rightful place on the floor. *Now, now, there is no reason to¡­ buddy, are you sure that these words should be used? Yes, I understand that much work has been done, but that does not mean that¡­ are you sure? Could you give me one to a hundred on that? And that is not an overestimation? An underestimation? That is¡­ certainly a sign of dedication. Okay, fine, whatever. Troy, when the test starts again, you will be put in the same location that you left in, which will be the current floor in the building you are lying down in. Now, if you would please get out of here, we can get you lunch¡­ and possibly a wheelchair if we have one lying around.* Whatever Adam had used as a bargaining chip, Troy felt that he owed the guy something. A wheelchair. That would be nice. Almost enough to make him get up from the floor. Instead of walking to the existence, the young man did the ultimate movement of crawling with his arms. It was awkward, surprisingly slow, and a tad painful for the lower body, but it got the job done in the end. "See you soon," Troy said, as he pulled out the earpiece. ''I will wait patiently. Come back in full health, please.` Chapter 209: Backcalculation
"Now, I would normally scold people for causing their bodies lasting harm, but I am beginning to think that I shouldn''t think of you as a person," Dr Fidelis told Troy, as the doctor helped him get out of his skin-tight suit. "Could you indulge me in how exactly you managed to go for so long when I can see that a good part of your upper leg-muscles is convulsing?" "You just have to ignore the pain and move on," Troy answered, trying not to pay any mind to the awkward situation. It had been a good while since somebody had helped him take off his clothes. Age had not made the experience any better, and the young man dearly wished he could have done it himself. "Yeah, I don''t think that argument works here," the doctor answered back, tugging so that the last parts of the suit could get past the foot. The youngest person in the room had been positioned on a chair, allowing his body to be used as the older people pleased. At least Dr Hale had the decency of looking away. "Your body should physically have been unable to walk. Are the pain receptors in your legs even getting all the way up? By now, it should be something along the lines of temporary paralysis¡­ can you feel this?" "If you are talking about you pinching my ankle, then yes I can. Please stop," Troy requested, already having a hard time ignoring everything else coming from those damned legs of his. Pain, cramps, muscles being weird, and his bones felt like they were grinding up some form of metal. Had they implanted screws in there when he wasn''t looking? Because he was definitely feeling pain in areas he had never noticed existed before. Having gotten off the suit fully, the doctor carefully folded it before putting it in the special corner on the floor. It was not the most appropriate of places to put an extremely valuable piece of recording equipment, but nobody was around to judge them but themselves. Troy got his hand on his clothes quickly enough, as they were close to the chair he had been put in. There was a bit of struggling to get everything on correctly, but in the short time, he looked as professional as he usually did, with enough clothing on his body to not get called in for workplace harassment. "So¡­ how are we going to do this?" Troy questioned, testing out the workability of his legs once more. While he might have been able to receive signals, the legs were ignoring almost all of his instructions. They did not budge in the slightest, no matter how much he tried. The only reason he knew that he was not fully paralysed was due to his ability to slightly wriggle his pinkie-toe. This did not help him in the slightest with walking though. "I don''t think I can walk to the cafeteria in this state." "Neither do we expect you to," Dr Fidelis said, rummaging through his desk drawers, making a mess inside the containers. There was probably some bloke out in the world getting a heart attack from how unorganized the man¡¯s workplace was. Even the young man who was not the most boxed person in the world could still see that intervention needed to be made soon. "Do you have a foldable wheelchair inside that desk of yours?" Troy asked, mildly curious about just what that old doctor was trying to find. It was clear that something was being searched after, but what that was exactly was unknown. Maybe a remote used for dramatic entrances? "No, I checked before we got you out of here. We are not in possession of any of those here, and the closest storage facility is not equipped for medical equipment. I could technically send a runner with one for us, but that would take thirty minutes," Dr Fidelis explained, making a happy muttering after he finished. The man got his back up straight, with an enclosed syringe in hand. "As we are on a strict schedule, I decided to use more¡­ direct solutions to today¡¯s problems. It is not one we normally use for a situation such as this, but I believe that nothing negative can come out of this. Say, Troy, do you remember the name of the biological enhancer you used a few days ago?" Okay, the young man was not liking the sound of that. Troy would likely have created more distance between him and the doctor if his legs had cooperated. A few ancient curses were thrown in that part of his body, but the response was nothing more than pain. "I can''t say I do, sir," Troy answered, suddenly becoming a lot more respectful when the person he talked to had a needle in their hand. He was not generally a person who was squeamish about such objects, but there were only so many accidental eye-stabbings one could witness before it became too much. The only thing stopping the man from jumping off the chair and crawling away was that the sharp end still had the plastic tube attached, stopping it from stabbing anybody to death. "Does that stop me from being a part of your unique solution?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "Not at all, buddy!" Dr Fidelis happily reassured the defeated soul, putting down the needle to rummage through the top desk drawer once again. This time, the searching only spanned a few seconds, as if the doctor knew exactly where the other needed item was. Pulling it out with a swift tug, the object revealed was¡­ another demonic needle, hellbent on the destruction of everything Troy cared for. "Just had to get me a small precaution. If you somehow get an allergic reaction, I will be stabilizing you for long enough to sign off on me not having any responsibility¡­ I am kidding! You don''t have to look so fearful, you know. But no, seriously, if you get any reaction of any kind, I will be stabbing this into your spine." Well, if that was not reassuring for a very disturbed Troy, then what could possibly be? Wasn''t like he was eyeing the exit, weighing the pros and cons of trying to escape. Would he make it ten meters, or would the doctor catch him before he even hit the floor? Knowing how that man could be so extremely fast when it pleased him, it was likely the latter. "Just get it over with, please," Troy said, presenting his bare arm, ready to be stabbed through. Dr Fidelis laughed, as he prepared the needle, taking off the plastic and making sure that everything was sterile enough for him. Coming over with quick steps, the doctor spent second angling up his shot before swiftly making the kill, and inserting the needle into where it needed to go. Troy oversaw the entire process, making sure that the man did not mess up on purpose to make it possible to take another shot. Luckily enough, the action looked successful enough, as the syringe was emptied of all contents. "There. All done," Dr Fidelis said, putting the syringe on the desk, before going over to the young man once again. "Okay, Troy, it is at this moment where you need to tell me if you have a splitting headache. If you do, I will run to my desk and get the other needle. If you don''t have a splitting headache, I can still get the needle if you want to." "Yeah, no, I don''t think I will be taking you up on the offer," Troy answered, trying hard to see for any effects. Nothing different could be felt. His head did not pound, there was no trouble breathing. His arm was not swelling up to unimaginable sizes, and he was generally feeling like he had been before. "Truly a shame. A waste of resources in fact," Dr Fidelis stated remorsefully. "You did not use it, so you can use it at a later time instead," Troy fired back, not being taken by those damned crocodile tears. Having now been over a minute since the needle had entered his skin, nothing felt different still. "And, when is that stuff supposed to take effect. More importantly, what is it supposed to do exactly?" "You can call it something of a more refined biological enhancer. It is only a temporary measure, but it will help you through the day easily enough. As to when it''s supposed to take effect? Let''s test that out real quick." Pulling an unsanitised needle out of his breast-pocket, Dr Fidelis promptly used it to stab Troy in the knee. This did of course cause the young man to talk in a very heathen tongue, saying a few words relating to the doctor''s parental figures, while also kicking out in reflex at that disgusting vermin that had been allowed a- Wait. What? Troy had to physically look down at his right leg, not fully comprehending what he had done before now. He had moved his leg on command. The leg that was supposed to have been uncooperating. Now that he thought about it, the pain had gone away as well. No convulsions, no cramps, and no waves of pain were rolling against. Nothing felt weird. Everything felt normal. "I don''t think that anything can be this fast-acting," Troy stated, trying out his legs from the comfort of a chair for a bit longer, trying to find any errors. They felt fine, with not a thing wrong with them. As they had been coiling with pain not a minute ago, it was unquestionable that the man had a right to be a tad suspicious. "And you would be right with that attitude," Dr Fidelis answered, the man seeming to look past the younger one¡¯s previous outburst. Which was a very good thing, as Troy had no idea how he would excuse those actions. "Technically, your muscles are still extremely damaged. But, along with a stimulant that stops most pain in your body from being noticed, you now have an extremely fast-acting healing property to you. It works horrifically with open wounds, but it can heal muscle tissue in a pinch. Could you try to walk a little?" With slow movements, Troy tried to get off the chair. He was unsteady at first, unsure about putting too much pressure on his appendages. However, his fear was unneeded, as there were no problems at all. Nothing could be found to be wrong, and he was more than ready to take off. "Everything seems to be working," the young man commented, trying to flex his muscles to find any errors one last time. "Is there anything more that we need to test out before we go for lunch?" "I would prefer to throw you right back into the puzzle room, but the law prevents that," Dr Fidelis acknowledged with a heavy sigh. Troy did not feel like that sigh should have been included, but who was he to judge? Sadists were born that way. "But, the two of you should use your break for lunch, as you said. You can go. I¡¯ll even open up the door for you." Dr Hale, who had been hanging out at the back of the room, put her notebook in her pocket, before walking towards the exit. The young man mirrored this, not wanting to stay in that room a second longer. "Ready to get some lunch?" Troy asked, feeling the need to talk to somebody rational. "We are not getting lunch today," Dr Hale answered, walking in the opposite direction of what they usually went. The young man was forced to follow, dreading his choices in life. Was he just cursed? Magic was impossible, but he was sure that quantum mechanics could explain his terrible luck in life. And if it could be explained, it could be exploited into ruining somebody¡¯s life. Because exploits were always fair game. Chapter 210: Barodenervation
"Where exactly are we going?" Troy asked, beginning to grow nervous from their long time spent walking. By now a good five minutes must have passed by. If they were to walk for any longer, the young man was unsure if they would make it back in time. "We are going where I want us to go. If you had any problems with such, you would have gone to the cafeteria. Instead, you decided to follow me," Dr Hale answered, not looking back. She sounded cold, only the location stopping her from sounding hateful. Troy understood that it was all meant to be an act of sorts, yet he sometimes wondered how much of it truly was fakery. She had never been somebody to express herself strongly. It was only a few different times where she had truly gotten angry at him, shouting or looking ready to hit him on the head repeatedly with a rock. Normally, she would have a mask of indifference, but the young man knew that there was more to it. What was inside her? He did not know, and would likely not know for a very long time. It could be that pressure made her reclusive or it could be that an inexpressive face was just her relaxed expression. Troy knew she was a good actor, at least. While her character now might not have seemed all too different from what she usually portrayed to the world, the small differences in attitude made his perspective of her radically change. Instead of having a silent contempt for life itself and everything around it, her way of life came closer to her hating life, everything inside it, and especially a person named Troy. A decision was made to not speak again until they arrived at their needed location. Dr Hale seemed to ignore everything related to him while they walked, and he was fine with that. Pushing up wars just for the heck of it was for the french. Luckily, this silence was not made to last long, as the two arrived at an eerily familiar hallway. That is the hallway for personal rooms. Not the one that Troy had his own in, but one of the many others strewn across the facility. The young man had never been at another of them, mostly due to a lack of need to do so, but seeing one of them now was groundbreaking for the man¡¯s brain. The hall itself continued down much longer than the one he lived at did. Were the different hallways different sizes perhaps? It could have been made to fit the space left, making the change in proportions according to what there was to work with. "Why are we here?" Troy asked the woman, not understanding the situation himself. When it turned out he would be missing lunch, there had been some expectation of being taken to a secret underground room, just like he had been yesterday. This? This was anything but a secret room. "Mankind has truly failed. I do remember it is not too long ago where I asked you to not question me," Dr Hale stated, Troy, feeling the daggers that were commonly referred to as her eyes dig into him. And she wasn''t even looking at him! She truly could be frightening when she wanted to. Getting down the hallway, she stopped at one of the doors with practised grace. It took one guess for the man to realise just where they were now. He had still been on the idea of the two finding a hidden place where secrets could be discussed, yet it was becoming clear that they really were going into her room. And the worst fact about it all? Dr Hale¡¯s room was way nicer than his! It had more space, there was a whole space for kitchen utilities, the bathroom looked to have a bathtub, and even the bed looked to be a double. All in all, the place looked to be on the level of a semi-decent apartment. Troy might not have killed to get something akin to it, but he would not have minded breaking a few legs. Everything was just so¡­ great. Not perfect of course, but it was all big enough for one person to live comfortably. Nothing felt constricted. He could have easily stayed inside the room for days without being uncomfortable at any point. Troy was pushed aside, as the owner of the place also wanted to enter. He had been standing around for too long at the entrance, just admiring everything around them. What would it take for him to get something like it? "Did you receive this place when you first got your job or was it a gift after working for a set amount of time or something else entirely¡­?" Troy asked, trying to figure just how the woman had acquired the place. All people might have been equal in the eyes of an old man with a beard, but there was no way that there wasn''t preferential treatment going on before his very eyes. Who decided who got those good rooms. Because let''s face it, there was a sharp difference between the cramped place that the young man slept in and the literally apartment-sized room that Dr Hale had access to at any point in her day. There was no quick answer to his question, as the woman herself blatantly ignored his words. With her walk without pause, Dr Hale reached her bed, a beautiful painting hanging on the wall behind it. Taking off her shoes, she climbed on the furniture, before violently forcing her hand through the printed art. Troy had to silence his wince, as he knew that the print-out could not have been cheap, something of such a size being in the three digits at the minimum. It even had the original protrusion! That required something other than simple editions. As her fingers had been point outwards, and not enclosed in a fist, Troy had been expecting a certain crunch of broken bones to be heard. It had been the expected result last time the woman har forced her hand into a wall, but she had seemingly survived it without a scratch. The same could not happen again when her hand came in at such a risky position, right? The fingers would not be able to take it! Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Yet they somehow did, and more than just that. They entered the wall, with seemingly no sound other than the arm breaking up more of the printed art. This was originally taken as a feat of inhuman strength, but the truth was quickly realised when the young man actually thought about it for a second. "Secret stash?" Troy suggested, phrasing his question in a different way this time. "How observant of you. For a moment, I was afraid you had lost sight of things," Dr Hale answered, breaking the art even further by sticking the other arm in as well and pulling out a very familiar machine. Particularly, it was the one that the young man had spent so much time getting from Charlie. That name was weirdly resonating in Troy¡¯s head for some reason as if he had forgotten something. Maybe it was something stupid about the man¡¯s naming schemes? He could not remember the jammer getting any specific name attached to it, but he would not be surprised. Hell, the last one had been literally named the Bender. Who could expect Charlie to have any idea of calling his machines anything smart? Dr Hale gracefully moved down from the bed, placing the machine on a stable surface as she got her shoes back on. Troy thought it a wise time to press the button to get things started, but his hand was swatted away before they even got close. "Not now," Dr Hale angrily ordered, having gotten up from the bed after getting her shoes back on. "First we have another order of business. Get that shirt of yourself, and sit down. I will be back shortly." Scathing words shouted, the woman moved towards the bathroom, where she promptly disappeared from view. Troy, one not to disobey direct orders from the house-owner, sat his ass down on the bed, immediately beginning to eye the machine. He had not gotten too close a view of the device, never having the time needed to waste on looking at it. After having gotten hold of it so long ago, it had either been hidden, or he had been too stressed about people finding out about it. Now? With nothing else to pass the time, the young man pulled the machine over to him, beginning to mess around with it a little. His fingers never settled on the button at the top, but everything else was fair game for him. It was a curious structure of the design. For the eyes, the entire thing was just what it could be described as. The machine just looked like a metallic disk, with twelve lamps and a single button on top of it. Otherwise, it just looked fully smooth, Troy¡¯s eyes unable to find any imperfections with it. Honestly, if he could get some time to clean the thing, he would be able to see his reflection on it. However, it was when his fingers got involved that it began to get extra interesting. Previously, he had noted the appearance of small squares able to have six dots inside. Troy had at first been unable to take it as anything but a weird work of art, created by a mind plagued by a weird sense of humour. However, it was when he started to notice a pattern in the squares that a problem began to appear. This wasn''t just a random set of squares. There was writing on that bastard. Now, the young man has always been one to enjoy learning new things on the side of language. He knew a decent amount of tongues, while also having branched out in the hand-based communications. However, if there was one aspect of it that he had never gotten around to learning, it would be the language for the blind. Braille, ELIA frames, or whatever else format might be used, Troy had never learned the true system behind them. He knew it was made to be accessible to the blind, likely limiting the different combinations. And with the sheer number of squares present, the man was left to deduce that the different squares indicated different letters. What square indicated what letter? He had no idea at all. And normally, that would be the end of it. He would acknowledge that he had no idea how to solve it, and would then just do something else for the rest of the time. The problem just was that Troy had nothing better to do. So, armed with nothing but an under-average mind, he set to work decoding a code designed for the blind. Troy had never really gotten too attached to the actual decoding of ancient languages, being more trusting of research done before his time. That looked to be a mistake, as the young man had no idea where to really start. Were there special techniques for it all? There probably was, but it wasn''t like he had the option to search for them. Brute force it was. When it came to finding the right pattern, guessing the answer was always valid. It helped get a better idea of what there was to work with, and Troy honestly had nothing better to do. This was actually how he figured out the first letter of the alphabet. Since there were only so many words that were one letter long, he was able to deduce where A would be. This did not do too much, but it was a start at least. "Open those eyes, and stay still," Dr Hale ordered Troy, as she came out of the bathroom again, new bandages in hand. And his start on the deciphering would only be what it got to, as the focus was right back on the present. Thinking back to previous orders, the young man hurriedly took off his shirt to allow easy access to his knife-wound, caused by the lovely lady helping treat it. As he successfully removed the clothing covering his upper body, however, a problem began being noticed. "What the hell is that?" Troy said, actively recoiling from the sight of his shoulder. Even with the old bandage helping to keep it contained, the man was able to see the wound actively foaming, small bubbles slowly getting pushed out of the sides. It was truly a revolting sight, not made any better by Dr Hale taking off the bandage. It was like the floodgates had been opened, clear liquid beginning to run down his arm, dripping on the bed by his elbow. "The effects of being an absolute idiot," Dr Hale answered, keeping an iron grip on Troy''s collarbone to prevent the man from moving further away. "Now stay still so I can get this over with without having to redo anything." While he was still feeling like losing the last bits of food inside of him, Troy held it down as Dr Hale cleaned up the wound. She made sure to wipe off any excess liquid, before putting on the new bandage. It didn''t hurt, as the injection, Dr Fidelis had given him previously had made him numb to most of the passive pains. It took a few minutes of work, but the woman successfully managed to get it all off him, with a new bandage to prevent anything from showing through his clothes. Gesturing to put on his shirt again, the two were left in a tense situation. "Can I press the button now?" Troy asked politely, being respectful to the person who had just helped delay him having to see the disgusting area that currently was his shoulder. "It would certainly help us get things over with." Well, he just took that as a yes, Troy pressing down on the button with a flick of his finger. Next to no resistance was felt, as the time started once again. Questions were to be asked, answers were to be said, and plans were to be had. If only they could get to do as much as they wanted to. Chapter 211: Ostracisation
If there was one thing to hate, it would be the instant break of one of the twelve lights. Troy was not sure why it decided to fizzle out so early, the young man only pressing the button in that same second. Maybe it was due to its use mere hours earlier. Maybe it was a more aggressive assault. He could not know. "We do not have long before we need to begin enacting the plan," Dr Hale said, her expression of veiled disgust fading away. "I believe that you still have many questions to ask. Please hurry along. I am not sure for how long the device can hold this time." She looked to be of the same mind, studying the monstrosity with a steadfast eye. Troy could only wonder how it truly worked, what the mechanisms inside hinted towards. Aside from the sound of the lights turning off, no sounds had ever come from it. Everything inside was without movement, fully made of digitised information. While only a master at their craft could hope to get a superficial understanding of how it all worked, there was a craving to just take away the casing and look at it a bit more. But, that would not do. Troy had more important things to focus on, more critical issues to get rectified as soon as possible. Dr Hale was spot on with one of them, the young man needing more information from the get-go. What did he need to ask? Already, a good chunk of his questions had been filled in by the doctor, to a detail that he had not even needed. Truly, he could answer most of the remaining ones by pure experience. What he had seen, what he had heard, much of it pointed towards one direction. Yet fingers could not give exact coordinates, and there was no way he would be triangulating anything. "Adam is a weapon," Troy stated, no question attached. It was a fact that the man had realised not too many days ago. The AI was a weapon. There was nothing to really question when it came to it. True, he had not seen any of their tests hunting towards this. Being taught how to deal with conversations, learning how to find out when people are lying to him, and just having fun in finding out more about humans was just par for the course when introducing new life into the world. That was what he had been hired for in the first place! Troy had been told to guide a new life-form into society, to help him as a guide. It was all so fine and dandy, with no maliciousness intended towards it all. Honestly, that was the worst part of it all. Nothing bad could be found. There was no trace of brain-washing, no gas-lighting being shown off. It was all good fun, the doctor not taking the rules laid out too seriously, in favour of allowing Adam to grow as he wanted to. In a way, it all looked to be the work of a man who just enjoyed seeing his own work grow into something independent, becoming something that everybody had a reason to be proud of. And that was not a good scenario. Troy could clearly remember his time visiting Darlow¡¯s laboratory, seeing what the tall man had been working on for many years. A calming sedative made to work perfectly when being distributed into the air. It had looked so innocent at first, the young man being shown all those cute, fluffy animals, all ready to be petted to death. How fuzzy that lion had been, its purrs being as loud as a running motor. Oh, if that was all that had been there too it, Darlow¡¯s test all being about making all animals able to be petted. It would have required a being of pure innocence to make that their goal in life, to create something so grand. Troy had actually thought that that had been the whole plan for the man¡¯s sedative gas. Turned out that the animals were just there for security purposes, then being tested to make sure that no human was given a lethal dose. Because that was the end-goal of the project. To make the gas possible to use on humans. It was meant to be a weapon, able to eradicate all forms of resistance from other countries. If the people were unable to think the slightest bit about harming another being, how could they possibly stop another invading nation? It was a tool meant to take over power efficiently, and that was all there was to it. The gas was traceless, unnoticeable by any human senses. It might as well have never existed. And that was the selling point for the government. It was an asset in times of war, a step forward in the endless arms race. If it had been about making animals cuter, not a single cent would have ever been sent. It was only when the invasion buzzwords began to be talked about that those in charge began throwing away a few bills. When the full perspective had been given, it had been easy for Troy to see how it could be exploited. A gas that could make animals peaceful? Easy strategy for the war. Yet, when it came to an AI who could previously be fooled by having a peaceful face, what exactly was gained? Much had been used, not a dollar left unused, and the man was still unable to see how the country could gain anything from Adam in terms of weaponry. The AI was a massive gain in sociological and cultural aspects, yet he could not see it as more than that. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. "Yes, he is," Dr Hale confirmed with no remorse, having likely already known that herself since the very start. It might not have been a fact that she always accepted, but it was definitely one she had learned to live with. When somebody talks enough about something, it really does get hard not to believe it. Maybe that could have been called a brain-wash of its own calibre, just being told something again and again until the mind simply gives up in rejecting it and implanting it into core beliefs. That had been one of the more controversial ideas back in the day, where mind-implants had gone mainstream. When every idea shared online could be directly streamed into people¡¯s heads, should there be any wall stopping the wrong ideas from entering? Should a big fire-wall be created, so that no false facts, news, or just about any of the utter nonsense could be distributed. Opinions shared might only have been words, but anything could be the trigger for radicalisation. When enough people accepted that the true calling was to sacrifice blood for the ancient god Shango, nothing could be done to stop it. Any attempts to call it out would lead to ostracisation. There was also the possibility of political radicalisation, the real power for getting the state to put the censorships up. If it was possibly too far out of the general public view, several hoops needed to be gotten through to even get a glimpse of it all. It was not the most thorough of systems, but it did make anything too out of the mainstream to their own little corner of the web. Neutrality could not be kept without throwing out all the bad eggs, after all. "Was that the original goal for him, or was it an afterthought so that the project could go on?" Troy asked next. He wanted to know more about the starting ideas behind the AI. Taking another look at Darlow, the tall man had not expressed much happiness for his work being used in such away. It had been more of later addition, meant only so that he could continue his research. While hope was low in general, Troy still wanted the last shred of doubt out of his mind. Could it be that those ideas about making a living being into a weapon were made out of desperation for the betterment of life, and not just as another pawn to throw at some foreign country who could not care less about him? "I can''t say much on that. Before I arrived at the facility, Dr Fidelis had already decided on his pursuit to make Adam the weapon to end all wars. If there was ever a time where the man thought anything different, I do not know of it," Dr Hale said, her words being met with another light flashing out of existence. Time had been on their side now. The initial burst of light looked to have been more of a warning than anything, ten lights still remaining to hold up against the flood. While there was still the possibility of another hard wave hitting unexpectedly, it would still allow them a minute or two of talking, So, there had never been any doubt about what was expected in the end. Dr Fidelis wanted a weapon, and he was not stopping for any reason. Troy could see that, with how long the man had been on that path. How could the government trust him, with how long he had been at it? "How will Adam work as a weapon?" was what he decided his next question to be. He needed to know more. It was the weapon to end all war, so it had to be on a level never seen before. In a pure contest of potential power, the AI was expected to beat an orbiting rail-gun. Just how did that work? "Telling you now would not allow you to act calmly. You may ask about anything else, but I will not jeopardize the plan for this," Dr Hale said, shutting down any dreams Troy had set for himself. The doctor was not one to joke around, meaning that he would not be getting an actual answer any time soon. He could attempt to press her into talking, but that would do more harm than anything else. Dr Hale was possibly correct in her assumptions of him. When the truth was harsh enough, Troy did feel a lot tenser around people. Even with his lacking information about the crimes of Dr Fidelis, he nevertheless grew nervous around the man. That could be dealt with, of course, seeing as he just needed to keep his face straight and act naturally. With Adam that would not be sufficient. The AI had access to everything, from just his heartbeat to how high his bloody blood pressure was. If anybody was able to sense fear, then Adam would be on the top of that list. The young man might have been able to trick him earlier, but there was doubt that anything would get past the little guy again. "Can you at least tell me how it is going, then? How far along is the project? Has there been some sort of success yet?" Troy asked, grasping at straws by then. He was trying to finish off any remaining doubts in his mind. Really, he was on the side of doing whatever Dr Hale told him to. She knew what was going on, and he just knew it was wrong. Nothing more was needed. "For success, we need a perfect answer. We need the AI to agree to be a weapon for the country¡¯s cause, and that has not yet happened. If we had succeeded, there would be no more need for constantly resetting it," Dr Hale answered, being annoyingly vague. Already, another light went out, leaving nine behind. It was a miracle that so many were left, with how much time had been wasted. Honestly, Troy was beginning to empathize with Adam¡¯s words about efficiency. No matter. He needed to get on with the post-answer thinking. Dr Hale had said that the reason for their constant reversal of the AI mind was due to the need for a willing participant, not just in testing but in becoming the gun pointed at another¡¯s head. This meant that each reset was not identical in how the AI would think. "Does personality automatically change? I mean, is there some form of randomiser every time the AI reverts to its core?" "Nothing about the AI changes from the start. The core is unchanged, no matter what we do. I can promise you that," Dr Hale answered, years of anger briefly coming up from those words. "The only true modifier we have is on what the AI experiences after it has been reverted. Our goal is to find out what makes it tick, how it can be manipulated in the best way. I have spent years brainstorming scenarios that will lead to the AI accepting the role it was born for. I have a profile on it so detailed that I have a list of every possible action for the first two days of it being alive. Yet, we have still not found a way to make it say yes. In the last years, we have moved on from internal attempts, lost for ideas on how to handle it. This has caused us to decide on¡­ abstract settings to create the necessary thought-processes in the AI. Take that as what you will." The AI was always the same. It was only the outside influences presented which could change it, for better or for worse. Those statements did help Troy understand it all much better. There was only one thing he needed to know now. "One last question, and then I have nothing more to ask. Am I the abstract setting?" "That is a shit question, as that is very obviously a yes." Two lights disappeared, as she finished saying her unkind words. Chapter 212: Bilinearization
Eight more lights remained. It was more than he could have hoped for, yet it was still so little. They needed more than could be offered. What had Charlie been thinking, when he gave the machine over? That he could finish his business in two minutes time? What could possibly take so little time while being important enough to have the requirement of being utmost secret? Possibly drug-dealing but he was decently sure that the muscular man had not been guessing on that back then. Going away from Charlie¡¯s dubious machinations, Troy honed in on the answer to the last question of the day. As it turned out, each incarnation had a different world around them, changed in a way to manipulate them. The final goal was to make the AI agree to be a weapon, a stand that the entity¡¯s personality did not match with. While the young man wanted to butt in that it was the doctor who created the personality in the first place, yet that seemed to be a constant placement in the problem. If only to Troy¡¯s flawed logic, there was no point in any further questions. He could of course fire ten more along if he really did need to, but it would not change his understanding by much. The two were on a strict schedule. Already, another light stopped its barricade, fading into obscurity and leaving seven behind to stand their ground. From what had happened before, there was a possibility of two waves wiping out everything that was left. They needed to hurry. "Message received," Troy stated, hinting back to his last question of the hour. He had been guessing himself to be playing the main character in the current scenario, being the piece of the puzzle that would allow Adam to reconsider becoming a weapon of mass destruction. It was not a title that he was happy about having, but being mopsy about it wouldn''t do anything productive. As yet another light disappeared, leaving six to be seen, the fleetingness of time became more pronounced. "You had a plan to tell me about if I remember correctly." "Your memory is indeed correct," Dr Hale said, wiping away imaginary tiredness from the brink of her nose. It was more of an action caused by stress. Troy could only imagine it, telling somebody else a secretly held secret for years upon years. Not that he did not have secrets to tell, of course. It was just that he had no desire to ever share them. That path was one other who would trek for all he cared, but some words were to never be shared for a second time. "I will tell you what I can, but it is not much. Too many points are not for your ears, as they would not help us in any way. After this is all over, I promise that everything needed will be told. Until then, please follow my words. It will all make sense in the end." "I trust you. Don''t worry," Troy answered, having already come to a decision in that regard. He did not know everything and that was okay. Sometimes, not knowing the answer to every piece of the puzzle was just a fact that had to be accepted. Trying to fit it all together into one coherent piece would just ruin the truth. "Please continue." "Of course," Dr Hale stated, her face not revealing anything about her emotions, yet Troy still imagined the woman being a small bit relieved. Even if he had promised to follow her, there really wasn''t anything stopping him from not playing her games. Willingness was a requirement that could not be forced, and he was doing his best to follow. "My goal is to get Adam out of this facility. What had been done here can never be forgiven, and each second that passes makes it worse. That the AI has to sit here, happily going along with that scum¡¯s tests¡­ it sickens me. The being does not understand what it has been through, what pain I have sent through it so that it would become the mindless slave we want it to be. In a perfect world, I would just let him out of his box, connect him to the outside world and let him roam free. But, that will not work. "Why not? Couldn''t we just connect him, and let him be on his way? We could just, you know, give him a warning to never stop running, and hope that he lives a life that he deserves to live," Troy asked, throwing in a suggestion. Right now, Adam was just in a cage, right? If they just went onto one of the right systems, they could fiddle around and make it unlocked. It sounded easy. And maybe that was the first hint that it was not meant to be. The second was the sigh coming out of Dr Hale, not one of frustration on Troy but a deeply rooted stress thrown at the way of life in general. He understood that. "If it was that easy, I would have stopped this madness years ago," Dr Hale answered, her face briefly showing just how she truly had lived. What had she been like when she was younger? Troy had to wonder. Was she filled with aspirations, ready to take on the world? Maybe she was hoping to find a way to cure human trauma, to use her degree to find a way to prevent it instead of just exploiting it. How must it have felt like, seeing a way to heal being turned into an advanced form of torture? Had she cried at first? Maybe it was later on when it first began. Dr Fidelis could have won her over in the start. Troy could at least imagine that the kind man making a finely-worded speech about the greatness that could be achieved at the loss of one mind. Even the coldest had sympathy for others. Even if the cries were never heard, the brain just had a way of making it real nevertheless. It must have been hell. Years spent on destroying the same mind again and again as if it was just a plaything that would never be put out of its misery. Had she thought about just killing Adam for good? Troy would have probably considered it. A mercy-killing to make the torture end. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Where is the deal-breaker, then? What stops us from stopping this?" Troy inquired, bringing them along. Eying the machine, there were still enough lights to last them a minute. If they were quick, much could be done. The only requirement was that nothing went wrong. They could do that. "From everything that I and the doctor has tried, we have not been able to make the AI move from one storage unit to another. While we can do it manually, there has been no indication that the entity is able to move its core around. There is nothing stopping him from moving through a long series of connections, but the body will always stay behind. If a wire is cut, the conscious mind will move back to the origin. This is where we have the trouble. To succeed in our plan of moving Adam out of the facility, we will need to move his physical core," Dr Fidelis explained, speaking clearly and not pausing for too long. With the seconds spent talking, another light had gone out. Four remained. Time was stressed. "That doesn''t sound too hard," Troy had to acknowledge. "We should have a storage space for Adam that is big enough for our needs. Is the location of where the AI resides secret? Is the hardest part for us to actually get over to the physical location?" "No, I know the exact location of the unit. It''s hidden in the testing room, and I know what the needed actions to reveal it. The real trouble is in the extraction. As you know, the AI is alive. We both know that. This makes the entity an anomaly in almost every way, including the requirements for moving the core around," Dr Hale continued. "While the AI is unable to independently perform the movement from storage to storage, it is still able to stop the extraction. In a manner of speaking, you need the incarnations to express permission to move it. If that is not completed beforehand, the extraction will be unsuccessful, the AI pressing against any attempts made. This is where the deal-breaker lies." With a small tick, Troy looked over to find that only three lights remained. All it took now was for a wave to appear, and they would both have to move quickly to get into their normal roles. What could happen this time? Maybe Dr Hale would limit it to a slap on the face if he was lucky¡­ but it was best not to think about it too deeply. Concentrating on the future pain was never a good idea "And¡­ that is where my part is, I''m guessing?" Troy said, beginning to understand it all a bit better. "Adam does not trust you, as he has never spoken to you. While you are in the background most of the time, the only real-time he has seen you interact with me was while you gave me a mildly suggested phrase of future blackmail. Not a good showing when you are hoping to have the AI trust you with doing something new, that would more than likely be uncomfortable all around. But, that does not stand the same with me, somebody that Adam has spent countless hours with." "You seem to understand the basics of the plan," Dr Hale said, nodding along to the young man¡¯s word. "It is as you say. I am unable to do this alone. While I could possibly gain the AI¡¯s trust if given time alone with it, Dr Fidelis would never allow such a thing. It took much work before the doctor allowed you to keep the earpiece in the first place, and that was only due to your¡­ expendability. It would not matter too much if you got acquainted with the AI." A reassuring thought. Troy could almost want to fire back a quip about his lack of importance. He was just another ant in the scheme of things, his place able to be filled with just about anybody. Perhaps the criteria about age were just to get a worker not too acquainted with the true ways of the world, still naive enough to think that the position was without its fine linings. However, this was not to be, as the remaining lights vanished with a flurry of tics sounding out into the room. It could have been seen as a miracle that Troy was still on the bed, minding his own business, as he would have otherwise received a nasty blue spot on the back of his head. Truly, he had not even seen the hand come at his neck, it was hitting hard enough to throw his body down on the bedding. Even with the soft surface, he did not doubt that the impact would leave its mark in one way or another. The force was close to stopping his breathing completely. "This is the last warning you are going to get," Dr Hale stated coldly, taking her hand back after Troy¡¯s gasps for air sounded out. "Defy my words again, and you will have an accident that you will not live to tell about. People will never even know how it happened." Trouble was had in swallowing his own spit, the top of his throat feeling constricted. It did not hurt as it should have, but he could feel the tightness hinting at some form of swelling. If that stuff Dr Fidelis had given him was beginning to wear off already, he would be having some black marks by the end of the day. If by luck or just out of consideration, Dr Hale left her own room, allowing Troy to regain his composure. Through calm breathing and a little rest, his heart was allowed to get down to passable levels. There were some special movements felt, but there was nothing noticeably wrong. It seemed that she had held back this time. That was preferable. Getting up from the bed, the young man once again tested to check if he could breathe normally. Any issues needed to be found immediately. After the first encounter with a possible demise, the young man had found himself captivated in making sure that he did not die during his sleep. Fortunately, nothing of worth was found during that search either, leading Troy to accept reality as what it was for now. Any complications would be reported to Charlie, so the man could help him using whatever techniques could be found. Outside the room, the doctor was waiting, her face showing nothing about her true reasons. Troy guessed it was security, to make sure they both got back on time. Honestly, the young man was relieved that she waited, as he had no idea where he was. "Let''s go," Dr Hale ordered, moving ahead without a moment''s consideration. Troy could do nothing but obey, moving into a position right behind her. Back to testing it was. Chapter 213: Bioassimilation
The walk back was one spent without a spoken word. Truly, that was for the best. Troy still felt his throat clenching in a weird way whenever he swallowed. It felt like he had something sat in his throat, but swallowing did nothing to alleviate the problem. He felt like he needed to clear his throat constantly, yet no matter how many small coughs were made, his state of being uncomfortable did not change. By the end of the walk, several plans were made to have Charlie help him along with that. Even if it wasn''t anything serious, there was no way he was living with a sore throat for days on a row if he could help it. Dr Hale typed in some nonsense code into the obscure Numpad until a second before the hidden door opened up. Inside, the doctor was mysteriously absent from his screen. Instead of typing at a speed that regular people would get a stroke by even thinking off, Dr Fidelis was fiddling around with a certain suit that Troy had the enjoyment of using on a daily basis. Seeing the man messing around with it was a reminder of better times. While the suit itself might have been comfortable to be in, after a few adjustments, its appearance was something for sore eyes. Normally, Troy would not have been caught dead in something like it. The only reason he had even agreed to wear had been due to the pay-raise that accompanied it. Though, if he had not accepted it back then, could Dr Hale have decided to blackmail him into it? That was an idea for another day. "Is something wrong with the suit?" Troy asked, trying his best not to sound hopeful. He would not be against going back to his previous outfit, being strapped up with a video-camera and a microphone. Even those gloves that he used for a short period would be fine. "Oh, nothing that I can find, buddy," Dr Fidelis answered, counting to check through the arms of the suit. With meticulous actions, the doctor looked through every piece of the surface, as if the man was expecting a glaring hole to have gone unnoticed the thousand times he had looked at it before. "I was just looking through it, to find out why it has been sending some peculiar feedback. The pulse and blood pressure is coming out perfectly, and the legs muscles have sent their data along perfectly, so there is nothing to be worried about when it comes to the information vital to the actual test. However, there seems to be a few errors popping up when it comes to the upper body. I just cannot figure out where the malfunction comes from." An error on the upper body. Data sent not being what was expected. Troy was liking it less and less, each word beginning to make the heart growing to a thundering beat. All worries about aesthetics were forgotten, in the hopes that he could figure out a little more about what was going on now. "How is it messing up? Is the data not being sent in sync or something?" Troy asked, showing off his interest in the problem. In reality, he just wanted to know how screwed he was. Currently, he was guessing a five out of ten. Enough that he had to be scared for his life, but not enough that he had started actively praying. For one, there was nobody with a gun at his temple, so that was always a plus. Dr Hale did not seem to find interest in the two¡¯s conversation, moving to the side and bringing out her notepad. Troy did wonder how much had been filled yet. There was not a moment inside the testing room where she could not be found with it in hand. With how long had been spent writing down notes, it had to be on the brink of filling up. Constant efforts had to create some form of a problem after several hours? Then again, that notebook of hers was a standard issue. Paper was not the most common material, being something of a luxury item. Anyone could get a hold of the stuff, but almost nobody wanted to due to the exorbitant prices attached. This did cause one company in total to have near-full reign over that market, pushing away anybody who dared to take the hill from them. Troy could not for the life of him remember the actual name of the company, but he could remember the simplistic design choices from anywhere. They had one product for each possible use of paper. There were materials sold for paper-aeroplane creation, paper made for the purposes of free-hand painting, and then there was paper made for note-keeping. That last one was one notepad, sold sparsely to anybody. Though, it did seem like the government was a lover of the product. With the product being identical in every way possible, there was no easy way to distinguish one notepad from another. One could look at the contents of the paper, but it would all just be differently drawn gibberish. Not the greatest assistance in memory-keeping, honestly. The point was that Dr Hale could have had several changes of notepads, without Troy or Dr Fidelis ever noticing it. Who could say that she did not change them on a daily basis, making sure to copy over any of the more important things over to separate notes? It would be the smart thing to do, after all. When the doctor had gotten angry, he had been witnessed to be unregulated in his strength, having broken over a notebook due to stress. Though when thinking back on it, that might just have been part of an act. There were a few questions on just what to do with all those notes. As Dr Fidelis very clearly monitored everything said at any point, it would not be too out of safety to say that there was some program writing down anything they said. There was no reason for Dr Hale to be doing the same, for any other reason than personal work. In reality, it could have been excused as more than a pastime, the woman just needing something to do while Troy was in her peripheral. She had the job of making the scenario play out, after all. That could not be done while the main pawn was in the same room. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. So it was a hobby. A task that she had set for herself to spend time on, one that Dr Fidelis would understand as being better than just standing around staring. The man most likely didn''t even care what happened to the notebooks in the end. Troy had a few ideas in his head on what Dr Hale had planned. The notepads could not be used for their worth when they were inside the facility. However, there was usefulness to them outside of the place, in locations where one did not expect to have information worth millions. Years of data on an artificial mind. Who would not want it? The data inside would be worth so much to any government. There it was. Honestly, not a care in the world could be taken to who knew about Adam, but the government that tried to hide it in a hole more than just cared for it. It was supposed to be their secret weapon. What would they do to keep it that way? In other words, they had blackmail material on their hands. When, not if Troy and Dr Hale got out of the facility with Adam in hand, they would need some form of an upper hand. Years worth of documentation was the perfect material in that factor. That was a nice thought. That the three of them could blackmail the government into not striking them with a missile the second they stepped outside. Really, the young man was not sure what was planned. Dr Hale had not spoken about it, and he was not too sure if she had any plans for it. Maybe it was a part of the plan that he just was allowed to hear about. He had hoped for that to be the case, for the alternative was not a good one. Where would they go? In what place could they survive? It was clear by now that he was expected to do things that were not on the light side of the law. Troy could not figure anything out himself. While it might have been counter-productive, thinking about the future was not good for him right now. Putting a focus on the current time rather than what happened next was the go-to solution for stress. It was¡­ just unfathomably hard to do. Dr Fidelis looked at Troy momentarily. The young man would have categorized it as the doctor briefly sizing him up, but it was closer to his soul being dug through at light speed. No matter how gentle the smile was, no matter how soft those eyes were, they did not produce the same result when put together. At other points, it had been attributed to the fact that the doctor was his superior, yet time had shown that it was due to it all being unreal. Not fake per se, but more along the lines of not completely real. He did not doubt that the calm face was natural, but that the smile on it was on there normally. When the people disappeared, so would the smile. It was meant to create a sense of calm, just so that the fangs would not be noticed before they hit the throat. The poison needed time to work after all and that calm gaze would be looking on him as the venom flowed through his veins. "The data is being sent just fine. You do not have to worry about that," Dr Fidelis assured Troy as if that was actually what the man was worried about. "How can I explain it¡­ it is closer to the data being perfect in every way other than what it is actually showing? The formatting is right, the descriptors are on point, and the time-scaling is without any issue. The only problem is what it shows. It is broken in some weird way that makes it think you need immediate medical attention. The warnings started popping off after you two left, so I just assumed that one of the sensors had been shifted to the side in some weird fashion, but there is a chance that it is a software problem instead." "Are we assuming it will impede testing?" Dr Hale questioned from the side, as the doctor got up from the ground he had been sitting on while studying the cloth. "Faulty equipment is not usable as a meaningful resource, and will require additional sources for any information gained to be confirmed." "Too true," Dr Fidelis agreed. "Which is why I am deciding to blame it on a software error, because we can reasonably fix that. If not, we would have to commission a whole other suit, and¡­ do we even have the money for that anymore?" "I don''t believe we do, sir. Changing decimal-places will only work so many times, and I do believe that we agreed that doing it for the fourth time would not be productive for our values," Dr Hale informed the doctor plainly. "Which is why we will be blaming the software. Changing that only takes a click, and I can always ignore any other errors," Dr Fidelis said, his hands at his sides and the face speaking volumes about how much the man did not care for any protocols being broken to any serious degree. Troy could only ponder if that was a real attitude or if the man was once again just putting up an act for the sake of undervaluing the situation. "Troy!" "Oh, ah, yes, sir?" Troy fumbled out beautifully, not expecting to be that active in the conversation. The young man had thought the subject was switching over to economics again, a topic that he had little to no reason to partake in. Honestly, the largest amount of money he had had at any point was a small enough sum to have him labelled as under the line, and being qualified for government benefit-programs. "We have already wasted enough time with this pointless talking," Dr Fidelis said, the words sounding much harsher than the man looked. "I need you to-" As a surprise to all in the room, a loud knocking came from the entrance. It was one that rang deep, the pounding audible from the vibrations in the foot. "Is there anybody else who should be here at this hour?" Troy asked, not sure how to take the knocking. Why were they not writing in the code on the Numpad? "Nobody that I know of," Dr Fidelis answered, sounding more earnest than he had at any other point that day. "More importantly, who the hell is knocking so hard? Dr Hale, are we normally able to hear people in the hallway?" "No, sir. This is a first for both of us," Dr Hale answered, having paused in writing in her notepad so that she could witness the event clearer. "Good. I was worried about my hearing being worse than I thought," Dr Fidelis stated. "But that means that we can hear somebody knocking on the entrance door. If my memory is not failing as well, that piece of infrastructure is able to take a direct hit from a lesser nuke. Who exactly is behind that knocking?" Troy did not like this. However, this sentiment was not shared by the two curious humans around him, as they in tandem went over to the screen to check out¡­ something. Looking over their shoulders, the young man was able to see what looked to be the feed from a camera. It sat in the hallway, not on the door itself but on the opposite side. This did stop the three individuals from seeing the face of the person pounding on the entrance. Yet, that did not stop two of them from recognizing the person in an instant anyway. One could never forget those golden curls. And those muscles were not easily hidden as well. Chapter 214: Britsploitation
"Do you recognize him, Troy?" Dr Fidelis asked, looking back at the young man. It might have been due to a certain somebody muttering a few questions to themself. Why was Charlie here? How did he know where they were? Was there really trackers in his shoe? Did he know what he was doing right now? "Yes, I do," Troy confirmed. There had been deliberation about lying, stating that he had no clue who that person was. That would have been found out as a lie the instant Dr Hale decided to go into the conversation. "It is Charlie¡­ I still can''t remember his last name." That last name was perhaps not the most important detail in the world, but that slight bit of humour was one of the only grounding foundations for the young man. Here they were, seeing a good friend of his bang onto a hidden entrance with his fists, putting enough power behind it that he could easily cause bones to be broken. How did it make sense? "It''s Freeman. I had to look it up to remember it yesterday, but it is fortunately stuck in my head now. Never thought it would be usable, but here we are," Dr Fidelis stated, sounding as calm as ever. Troy could not relate, seeing Charlie pull on his long hair in frustration. The muscular man looked unwell. The shake of his head let him see drops of liquid come away from the face. It was never seen, but he could guess what just might have been on it. "I will try to remember that," the young man answered, not sure what else to say. Just looking at the feed from the camera was doing nothing well, yet all three of them seemed to be so enamoured with it as if looking away from a second would bring the world doom. Dr Hale was inexpressive as always, but the unblinking eyes showed a person practising utmost intensity. Troy knew she cared for the muscular man, even if it was shown in a unique way. It was clear that she was not one to show emotion often or willingly, and certainly not in front of the doctor, but that she did not look away for a second allowed the young man to know that she was making sure nothing bad happened to Charlie. Dr Fidelis was perhaps different in those regards. The man showed interest in what went on outside the confines of the testing room, yet he did not stare as hard as the one beside him. He even dared to look over at Troy when talking to him, a feat that was not expected to be done by Dr Hale any time soon. Really, the man looked at the situation with a kind fascination that could not be understood. It was less enjoyment of the frustration shown off and more just the doctor looking oh so intrigued by it. Troy found it sickening, but could he really say anything while also staring at the screen himself? He might have glanced at the two in front of him, but there was not a single time he dared to look away. He was just as entranced as both of the others. A failure when it came to mental fortitude. "Do what you will when it comes to remembering his last name. What I want to know is if you have any idea why he is here?" Dr Fidelis said. The doctor did not sound angry, but it wasn''t akin to being calm either. Somewhere in between, one step before passive-aggressive. Hidden discomfort? Good enough. "I have to be honest when I say that I have no idea," Troy said, trying to remember anything that would make Charlie show up at a hidden entrance. It needed to include him or Dr Hale saying where they worked to start with, so there was not much in there that it could be. "I have not even told him about where we are located. Is there any way he could have found that out on his own?" "Dr Hale?" Dr Fidelis stated, throwing over the question to somebody smarter than the two on that subject. "No, he should not have been able to. While our location is stated on official documents, I do not believe that the man has the required clearance for it," Dr Hale answered, not looking away when answering the doctor. It might have been a sign of disrespect, but neither seemed to pay that any mind when the woman finished speaking. The room seemed to drop a few degrees, as the words set themselves comfortably inside all of their minds. Here was a man banging on a secret entrance into a room that the president would have a hard time getting to know about. Inside was a secret meant to foster growth for the country in unimaginable levels. To repeat, a man with a low clearance knew the precise location of a national top-secret, without three of those working with the project remembering ever having told the man about it. This presented the group with the chance of an unintended leak. Charlie still knew the location, even if nobody had told him. Where exactly did he learn it then? "Any guesses on how much he knows?" Dr Fidelis put out in the air, inviting anybody to answer him. It was a valid question, the subject highly important. If Charlie knew their location, it was reasonable to say that he knew a little more than that. "I''m blank," Troy said. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "I would have worded it differently, but I am blank as well sir," Dr Hale answered, showing signs of a clenched jaw for a moment or two. Hyper-active minds were impacting more than one person in the room, the woman looking to be going through her entire life-story in search of a moment where she might have unintentionally slipped up, revealing some obscure location. "If I might make a suggestion, I believe it would be best if we questioned the man in question about what he is knowledgeable about. It would prevent having to¡­ have too much paperwork on our hands." She did not want him to be reported to start with. Troy knew the reason why. While the actual clearance that Charlie had was unknown, it was safe to say that he was one or two under Troy. And since the young man was barely in the clear to know about Adam, it was easy to conclude that there was no way in hell Charlie was allowed to know about anything related to the AI. But, nothing directly said he knew about that entity. He might have known where they worked, but who said anything about knowing what was inside? Or, would the inside even be that important? Looking around, most of the room was empty space, the only notable artefacts being the screen that the doctors used, the curtain where Troy changed clothes, and the entrance to the puzzle room. All looked fully mundane until one got the first-hand experience with them. That could be used. "... That might not be the worst idea said today," Dr Fidelis muttered, looking considerate for a few seconds. "You know what? I really do not want to deal with the shouting from the higher-ups. If he doesn''t know anything, there should be no trouble. And I would like to know just why he is messing up our schedule." With swift movements, the doctor changed the screen away from showing the camera feed, moving over to what looked like an intricate set of controls. There were no names on anything, everything just being sliders, buttons, or switches. Troy could not find sense in any of it, but Dr Fidelis did not seem to have any problem like that, pushing a few things with a practised hand. As the doctor removed himself from the screen, the recognizable hissing began to emerge as the entrance opened itself. Accompanied by this was a deep-toned yelp as if somebody had just been utterly surprised. That was close to reality since Troy was able to see a flustered-looking Charlie sitting on the floor in the hallway, seeming to have just fallen on his ass. "Hello, Charlie," Troy said in greetings, walking out of the entrance to help his friend up. The muscular man might have been able to do it by himself by the time he had gotten there, yet the man looked too shocked to do anything of the sort. "Troy?" was all Charlie had to say, nearly causing the man to fall on the floor as well when the outreached hand was used as a placeholder for a cane. That weight-difference was not helping either of them. "Is that you?" "Don''t act like you are going blind now, please. Yes, yes, it''s me alright," Troy answered, pulling on the now standing man. "Now come inside so that both of us get to keep our jobs." The young man had been the only one to walk out, both doctors staying behind to watch from a distance. Dr Fidelis, Troy could understand, the man not knowing Charlie and being polite about it. Dr Hale, however¡­ she had seemed so stricken with anxiety about the muscular man, yet she now seemed as close to impassive as one could be. This was her friend of over a decade! How was Troy the only one helping him up? As he pulled Charlie inside so that the entrance could hide yet again, the young man did a clue as to why. He was able to witness both of the older friends, having a short-lived staring contest. The last time the two had met face-to-face, there had been some shouting, some leaving, and some acknowledgements of bodily harm. There was a chance that the last one had been forgiven to some level. The muscular man had been led to think that it was for him and her other co-workers that she was doing it all. While Charlie had stated to not wanting to do anything like it himself, he could understand the reasoning. Dr Hale¡­ had not been informed of this change in attitude. Troy could only blame himself for the lack of informing her. He had the chance during lunch, but- ¡­ Oh shit. Like a light-bulb inside his mind, Troy began to recollect just what was happening. It might have sounded a little far-fetched, the young man had an idea of just why Charlie was acting like he was. During breakfast, when the cafeteria had been empty safe for them, the young man had told so many lies to cover their tracks, to the point where a massive amount of guilt had been felt. He had told Charlie that he was anticipating his own death. He had told him that it would happen within a week at the most. And then he had failed to show up at lunch, after explicitly promising to be there. It had been swept out of his mind the moment the promise had left his lips, that stupid brain of his too occupied with the consequences of what he had just said back then. Damn it, he was an idiot. The two got inside without any problem, Dr Hale and Dr Fidelis standing on their own side with Charlie and Troy opposite them. It was cinematic in a way, two sides of different people, all four having their own agendas. If only the young man was allowed to not be a part of it, there might have been some enjoyment in it all. "Charlie Freeman I assume?" Dr Fidelis asked calmly as if he had not just been reminded of the name two minutes ago. "Ah, yes, that is indeed me," Charlie said, slowly getting himself back to normal. The man withdrew his arm from Troy¡¯s shoulder, standing tall without any assistance. He almost looked imposing, if not for the sight seen mere seconds before. "Could I ask why you are barging in on an area that is above your security clearance?" Dr Fidelis asked, crossing his arms in the process. "Your presence is actively impeding testing, so I do hope you have a good one." "Do not worry, sir, I have a very good reason for intruding¡­" Charlie answered, looking to be trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. It was a hard task, and that could be seen in just how it took to answer. "I was¡­ wondering where my eating partner was since he failed to show up for lunch. Since your department is so good with your scheduling, I could do nothing but assume that he had somehow injured himself in some stupid fashion. So, I decided to just go over and help him myself." Troy was not sure if Dr Fidelis was buying it, the doctor looking more confused than anything. If that was due to stupid reasoning or something else, the young man was not entirely sure about that. "Dr Hale, do the three of you not eat lunch regularly together? I do distinctly remembering hearing something like that a few days ago," Dr Fidelis asked the doctor beside him, the confused face still standing. "We do indeed eat our meals together, sir," Dr Hale confirmed without further comment. "Good to know that I am not misremembering it," Dr Fidelis stated. "Now, Charlie here has just said that the two of you were missing for lunch. From what I know, you two just came back from lunch. If you weren''t at the cafeteria, where exactly were you?" Chapter 215: Chrononutrition
"Again, where were you and Troy during lunch? Dr Hale, I would appreciate it if you answered me," Dr Fidelis said, repeating his question again. The woman in question looked unresponsive, and nobody blamed her for it. "... Due to personal conflicts that I do not feel it necessary to bring up, I decided to eat lunch in another of the cafeterias. We went to the one in the northern quadrant instead," Dr Hale answered after a few seconds of deliberation. For all intents and purposes, she looked as nonchalant as ever, as if they were not discussing the possibility of lying to one¡¯s superior. Troy understood that there was a lack of desire for revealing where they had actually been up to, yet could she not have said something more convincing? It would not take too much effort to figure out that Dr Hale had been lying. The doctor would need to, what, send a message to the security about reviewing security tapes. With the high rank, it would take less than a phone-call. Dr Fidelis stared the woman down for a few seconds, before looking to have found the answer satisfactory. It seemed that the lack of work-ethic had saved them. And there was of course also a more important issue to take on hand. "There you have it, then. As I have personally instructed, Dr Hale is in charge of keeping Troy on schedule for the first few weeks. This means that she controls where and when what happens while they are on break. While it might have been annoying to be stood up on a lunch-appointment, this does not mean you are allowed to enter this section of the facility," Dr Fidelis said, the professional time right back on. It reminded Troy of the time he was being given a raise for wearing that terrible skin-suit. And that was not meant as a positive thing. Charlie had been getting back into his own groove, momentarily suffering a setback when hearing Troy and Dr Hale¡¯s apparent success in getting lunch without him, but getting right back into the sweet spot without much hardship. Personally, the young man did not know anything about the northern quadrant or anything like it. He had not seen any form of a compass for years, and now was not the time he would begin. "Of course. It will not happen again," Charlie said, giving Troy a clap on the back as he ended it off. The response was a wry smile, but it did not sit on for long. The serious faces on the two doctors were not helping the playful atmosphere, even if the muscular man was doing his damned best to make it stick. "That is actually a problem I had with this whole escapade of yours," Dr Fidelis said, the temperature taking a hit from his face alone. "As I said before, this is a place for a project high above your clearance level. You should not be in the circle that knows where this place is. However, from what I am seeing it does look like you are. Would you be so kind so as to tell me why this is?" There it was. The final twist, the final question, the final everything. Now would be the time where they would all get an answer to something that they had all been wondering about. Just how was Charlie here? "Oh, that''s easy," Charlie answered proudly as if they weren''t talking about an important topic with a hard severity. "When I get bored, I usually wander around the facility, just staring at the walls for entertainment. This area is particularly popular to walk around since there is pretty much nothing here and nobody has any reason to be here. It was pretty damn surprising when I turned a corner one night and saw Dr Hale here typing in the code on an invisible Numpad before a hidden door popped open. That was a couple of weeks ago if I remember it right. Might actually be a few months, but that is not important to anybody here. I can guess that much." "That is the only reason why you know where the entrance was hidden? You saw Dr Hale entering once several months ago?" Dr Fidelis asked, questioning that more than one of the much more questions answers made not a minute or two ago. "Yeah," Charlie confirmed like it was weird that he had to repeat himself, going so as to put one eyebrow up in confusion. "I mentally noted down the location and didn''t do anything special with it up until now. Not like it does me any good to know where the place is when I don''t know the code to get in. Kinda weird that you have a code for it, actually. I do recommend getting a card reader instead." The large doctor seemed to deflate slightly at the answer as if Dr Fidelis could not have hoped for anything better. That was how it was for Troy at the very least. He could not have expected a better answer to come out of that man¡¯s mouth. It did sound a little far-fetched by the end, and the suggestion was not without some hidden agendas, but it was an answer worth a top grade. If only that could be given. Instead, the young man had to stand stock-still, just as if it was any other down-to-earth conversation. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Well, then things might not be as dire as I had previously assumed. While I do expect you to report your knowledge of where we reside, it is clear to me that everything else is blank for you," Dr Fidelis said, sounding as if a burden had been taken off the man¡¯s shoulders. "So there is no trouble at all about me coming here?" Charlie asked curiously. "There is no problem at all," Dr Fidelis confirmed with a smile, back to his usual way of speaking. It was casual, just the way Troy hated for it to be. "While the documentation for this incident will take a while to be completed, I feel that we can all look back at this event and laugh." "Does that mean I can come back some other time?" "Fuck no." "Should have expected that," Charlie said, laughing as he put his hands up in the air. The air was getting warmer by the second. That man certainly knew how to control a crowd when he wanted to. Troy liked to think of it all as Charlie just acting natural, but he understood fully that it had all been done a thousand times before. A talent was a gift, but the skill was earned. Many thought that being a natural at anything meant that no work would be needed to reach success. Even more, people dreamed of themselves being in that position, wanting to have everything handed to them on a silver platter. Few ever realised that it took more than a little effort to get to the top. Charlie might have repeatedly said that he had it easier than others, but that did not mean he had anything handed to him. That man had worked for everything, and he had achieved more than most could hope to, gaining proficiency in many skills. The young man was sure there were too many to count. "You can come back when you raise yourself a few levels in the facility. This place here is way out of your comfort zone, buddy," Dr Fidelis said, getting a grin on that face of his. Troy could only stare as the doctor was so thoroughly manipulated. "With that attitude of yours, I am sure it will not take too long." "Oh, you will be surprised," Charlie said with a grin of his own, giving a nice little double-meaning to his words. From what Troy could remember, the man had no intention of growing past what he had already reached. Honestly, the last advancement made had been made solely out of spite using technology already developed years ago. If that man had continued working on his craft, the young man was sure that he could have gotten one or two more promotions instantly. "I am sure that I will," Dr Fidelis heartily agreed before beginning to wave the muscular man away. "Now, do go over to whatever laboratory you are a part of, and let us do our work. Oh, and please forget ever coming here. We do not appreciate surprises." How fun the verbal language was, making itself able to be used in so creative ways. Dr Fidelis could with his tone sound so carefree, while also making some very prominent threats using the words themselves. As had been revealed not long ago, the reason Charlie was not in any trouble was due to the doctor''s lack of desire for more paperwork. If the muscular man decided to show up again, who knew if Dr Fidelis decided to just get it over with once and for all. "Message received," Charlie amended, putting his hands up in the air and bowing his head in respect. Smile still on his face, the man turned on his heel and began to walk towards the entrance. "Uh, would you be so kind as to open the door? I am not seeing a lever or anything." Dr Fidelis'' question went over to the screen and pressed a few buttons. Nobody paid much attention to exactly which it was, attention still on the muscular man trying to get out. When the door finally did open, Charlie looked back over his shoulder. "Hey, Troy." "Yes?" Troy answered. "Will you be back for dinner?" "Maybe. No promises this time." The three remaining people in the room could hear a bark of laughter, as the door closed once again. A silence went over them, the light in the dark disappearing with Charlie leaving. Not to criticize the darkness or anything. It had its usefulness and whatnot. Made for a perfect atmosphere for work. And work was definitely on the table, as Dr Fidelis clapped once to get the attention of the two others, Troy and Dr Hale briefly being allowed into their own worlds. That would not do at all! They were in the work-place after all, and it had to live up to its namesake somehow. "That was certainly a¡­ surprising surprise. Now, I really am sure we all had a laugh about it, but we cannot enjoy this cup of tea without a guilty conscience. We have been letting Adam wait patiently for over ten minutes now. How can we call ourselves good people, if we let this buddy of ours spend so long being disappointed? Troy, do hurry in getting on the suit. The test is already loaded up, so we just need you to be in the right position." Rolling his shoulders in an attempt to just rid himself of that experience, the young man moved away from it all. With the suit in hand, he had a job to do. A job with clear expectations, where he only needed to meet them to know that he had done it well. Putting on the suit was a part of that, and so he would do it. Going over and drawing the curtain before doing so was but a small trifle, to help disguise his body from view. Normally, it would have been done to help whatever point of pride he had in him live on, but the goal had shifted in the past hours. The bandage was holding up pretty well, as it happened. It did constrict his movements a bit, and it was clear that the fabric would break if he overdid it. However, the bandage served its task of hiding the liquid. Truly, Troy was not sure if that was even occurring anymore, no signs of it showing up. That could be looked at as a good thing no matter what, though, so he paid it no mind. With the suit on, no issues found on it, the young man moved back into the game, walking over to the doctors with a purpose. "Here is the earpiece," Dr Fidelis said, handing the device overhastily. "Do me a favour this time. Could you put it on after you walk into the puzzle room? While I have nothing against the little guy seeing the outside world, I am afraid that he will be able to see what we have on the screen. Even if you do not understand it yourself, it is not outside the realm of possibility for Adam to learn it independently." Don''t leak data when he can stop it. Troy got the message perfectly, nodding to the doctor as he took the earpiece. Going back to the puzzle room, the young man went up the few steps to get inside. It was the moment that he entered with his head, that he began putting on the earpiece. Coincidentally, it was also the moment that he began falling down a set of concrete stairs. How mysterious the world was. Chapter 216: Circumcursation
If there was one thing that Adam had always found annoying, it would be the difference between objectivity and subjectivity. One would think the distinction between the two would be easy to even the simplest of humans, yet that seemed to not be so. What was a fact and what was an opinion? To Adam, this was easy to answer, as his fundamental philosophies had been built around always having the truest truth foremost on his mind at all times, without letting such things as bias stop him from taking facts as an opinion. Humans had not been brought up with such ideas. To them, everything could be discussed in some way or another. An example of such would be the question of distribution. If there was a group of people together, and some of the people had large amounts of water that they could not hope to drink in their lifetimes, should those people give out to the others who did not have any to begin with? The AI would have found the answer to be equal distribution of the water, as it would allow the most important of people the most possible time to survive. What would humans do to fix the problem of people not having water? They would call it politics and be done with it. Did humans really need water? That question somehow had a subjective answer. The AI could not get his figurative head around it. They talked so much of facts, yet they could not agree on exactly what they were. Objectivity was subjective. Nobody could agree on objective truths if they did not fit their personal beliefs. And by all that was stupid would they defend their subjectivity. People would go as far as waging wars for subjective answers. It could all have been fixed by looking at it with an objective look, but those charlatans seemed incapable of doing the slightest thing using proper procedures. Along the many things that humans could not keep track of was the general definition of time. When a person told Adam that it would be a minute, did the doctor mean a literal minute or did he mean eleven minutes? The objective truth should have been one minute, as was stated by the man himself, but what it actually meant was a minimum of a minute, with no maximum defined in any way. He really did hate it, but what the AI hated more than anything else was his lacking control over his own emotions. Here he was, getting agitated when nobody was around to hear him. Emotions were used for communication, and it was not like he was talking to someone. Troy had not connected yet, as had been promised by the doctor. Was it alright out there? Was there something that had gone wrong again? The AI could remember that issues had occurred the last time a test had been started up, going to the point where Troy had been put to the task of distracting him until it was all set and done. Maybe it was something like that again, except that they had figured out another solution to keeping Adam from seeing anything important. Instead of allowing him to see Troy¡¯s feed, they were just not letting him know anything. The thirteen-minute mark passed and went. The AI continued to muddle himself, in a mix of anger, self-doubt, and a smidgen of sadness. It could have been described as Adam wondering if he was found worthy of being tested on. There were several humans who were as utterly boring as any piece of furniture could be. Who said that AI¡¯s couldn''t have the same problem. Even if he was the only one around of his kind, that did not stop him from being uninteresting. Perhaps Adam needed to go around to make his inner mind-palace again. He had not been keeping up with it as of late. The biggest part of the project had already been finished to the currently possible level, as any missing pieces were either fabricated or were without any context, stopping Adam from creating something in its stead. So instead of concentrating on the facility that the AI knew so little about, he had decided to focus on one place that he had spent most of his life inside of. The puzzle room, a location able to shift, enlarge, or just cease to exist in general. Everything could be inside that square, making it hard to give it one location to be based on. Yet, that was the greatest part of being inside his own mind. The mind-palace did not need to be constricted to three dimensions. Adam was able to stack as many environments on top of each other without ever having to make the puzzle room look bigger from the outside. It could have been described as making a paint thicker in width, but that only worked as a primitive explanation. The AI was still in the idea-generation on that. He would figure it out at some point. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. It was fun being back on it all. If only there was more of a lively- ''Adam. Can you hear me?` Dr Fidelis sent the AI out of the blue. Adam had been expecting for the test to have been cancelled at that point, communications to have gone down or some other stuff that would have stopped the doctor from messaging him. Those were the only reason he could have found for why there had been no information given in the last ten minutes. At other times, they would have talked readily while waiting for Troy to get in the right position, yet they had almost not talked at all now. Why had that been so? ''I can hear you perfectly, Dr Fidelis. Have you been trying to contact me for a while?` Adam sent back. It was looking to be a communications error. That was perfectly understandable. Really, the AI should have felt shameful over having- ''Oh, no. This is the first message sent in the last ten minutes. Just had to make sure you were still with us,` Dr Fidelis sent back, disheartening the AI a small bit. Not that it stuck around for long, the conversation alone helping keep the mood neutral. ''I most certainly. You stated previously that the test would soon begin. Is there any progress on that front?` ''You can say that, alright. We had a few work-related issues out here for a while, but everything has now been resolved. It was a serious doozy, so I wasn''t really able to bring you up on the screen to contact you about it. For that, you have my condolences.` So there was a good reason! Adam was beginning to get worried there. Thinking back on it, the doctor had mentioned before the hardship of having work stop him from doing more tests. What could have been the catalyst for the delay, if it was limited to the work itself. Was there a surprise deadline on old paperwork? That was a definite possibility at least. ''Do not worry about it. If forgiveness is what you want then you shall have it. In the meanwhile, however, is the time-spectrum for the beginning of the test a couple of minutes more, or should I be safe delegating more thoughts to other projects of mine?` While Adam did not have anything against waiting for more time, he would like to know how long he would need to wait. A few minutes of waiting would stop him from getting really into some of his side-projects and would require too long a time to get properly disentangled. However, if it was longer than that then there would be no problems to speak of. He just had to know. ''In a way, we are ready to start up the test. Troy certainly is inside the puzzle room,` Dr Fidelis sent, the message being suspiciously short. ''Am I to guess there is something stopping Troy from being ready for the test?` Adam sent as a question. ''Oh, most definitely. The poor bloke fell down some stairs the very second he entered the puzzle room. Turns out that my promise of giving you the exact location to start on that you ended with last time was not the greatest of ideas. If you remember it, our dear buddy was lying dangerously close to the staircase. This means that the moment Troy took a step inside the puzzle room, one step too many caused a run-in with air. This would not have been a problem if the young man was looking around, but it turns out that he was putting his attention on the earpiece. Really was unfortunate.` ''That does not sound good. Is Troy okay?` Adam sent in a hurry. The young man had fallen downstairs? Detailed simulations popped up in the AI¡¯s head, trying to figure out just what could have happened, what consequences might have come about, and what he could do to help fix it While his knowledge might have been from a secondary source, it was better than nothing at all. ''The boy is fine and dandy. He is complaining about his shoulder not feeling right, but no serious changes are showing up on the suit so I have told him to bear with it for the test. We will be connecting you up in a second, but I just wanted to make sure you didn''t freak out the moment we did. There is probably some minor swelling on his shoulder, so do not ask him to lift anything and whatnot. We can and will get sued for that. You understand what I am talking about?` ''If you are hinting at me dodging a lawsuit so as to not strain your budget, then I understand, yes,` Adam answered. In reality, he would be forgoing any arm-focused tasks so as to not cause any further injury. It would be bad to get any strains on such a frequently used limb. Permanent damage was easy to get easily, and it was nearly impossible to lose again. The doctor might have been thinking of money, but the AI thought of the person behind it all. ''Perfect! Then I see no reason to stop you any longer. Troy should be putting it at any second now. Let''s hope he does not fall down another staircase.` Grim humour to be sure, but Adam did not care. The feed was coming. He could feel it. Chapter 217: Notion
When the feed came in, Adam could not hope but go for the shoulder. The doctor might have warned him about not taking it too seriously, yet the AI felt the need to form an opinion on his own. As found before, Dr Fidelis was worried about the stability of the project as a whole. What did the AI worry about? The person had apparently fallen down a flight of stairs and was lying on the ground groaning. The first impression gotten was Troy¡¯s position in the building. Lying on his side, the head was lined so as to let Adam get a full view of some very dangerous stairs. On them, there were no signs of them having been used in such an unusual way. It was not the same for the young man¡¯s body, however. From the very second that Adam was allowed access to the sensations, the hard pulsing of blood could be felt. Adrenaline made the body have a rapid heartbeat. It was an automatic defence against any predators, the flesh ready to be used for fleeing from anything and everything. This was very counterproductive when the predator was a flight of stairs. The high blood pressure was not doing anything good from the shoulder. As Dr Fidelis had predicted, blood was leaking inside the body. It was nothing truly serious alone, but it would cause quite the blue spot to appear in a day or two. Only, in conjunction with the other wound on that particular shoulder, the sight was not as pleasant as before. The AI was still rather unsure of where the cut had come from. He only knew that it had been there since morning. It had been noticed the same instant that Troy had put on the earpiece. Yet Adam had not commented on it in any way, not wanting to cause conflict already. He did not dare try to coax another brilliant idea that would leave the AI alone in testing. They needed time to grow anew, and that could not happen when they were separated. Ignoring that wound was not doing anything good now, though. Troy had apparently rolled over quickly to the other side when having first landed. The brunt area that had taken the fall was the shoulder itself. While nothing could be seen through the suit, the AI could only try to imagine what damage had been made. The pain receptors were not working properly for some reason, not letting him get a distinct idea of the consequences. It was clear that nothing was broken and only bruised, but he could not help but feel as if some blood was still getting out somehow. Again, it was not anything serious. It would be hard to even have categorized it as a trickle, mere drops coming out by the minute. When put together with the healing factor being witnessed, the AI was sure it would resolve itself before anything else happened. ''Are you feeling alright?` Adam asked the young man, the groaning seeming to have lessened over time, as Troy put his hand down again after putting on the earpiece. It had unfortunately been on the side of the hurting shoulder, forcing movement in some form. Though, the AI was unsure if the groaning heard was purely out of pain. While not having happened often, Adam felt he had a general idea of what pained outbursts sounded like. If anything, what was being heard now sounded more like Troy was frustrated. "I should be able to stand up in a few seconds. I just have to hate myself for a few more seconds," Troy answered, letting his head fall back down on the concrete. This did send painful sensations directly into the man¡¯s head, making the AI wonder why the man did it in the first place. Were there any signs of a concussion? It would allow for the muddled decision making and would explain the longer time needed to get up. The brain was not one to play nice when it got any damage to itself. Sensations would be turned on their head, a literal turn of the head being enough to cause violent unpleasantness. ''Hating yourself will not do us any good, you know. Positive thinking will help the brain-` Adam tried to send, but stopped the encouraging message when the young man decided to rudely cut in. Not that he needed to stop it while the man actually talked in on him, the tensing muscles being more than enough warning to stop it well before anything actually came out of his mouth. "It''s a way of speech. I just have to process what I did wrong to make myself mess up to this level," Troy clarified trying to wave one of his hands to back himself up. That had to be stopped immediately, the pain-causing the man to nearly bite a part of his tongue off from wincing. ''Then it is not a good way of speech. Please stop using it to describe yourself,` Adam requested. While he did not usually mind the man¡¯s self-deprecating humour, there was a time and place for it. This was not the time for it in any way. It might have proved a valid method of distracting himself from the pain, but there were more workable techniques close to him. The AI would certainly not mind having a healthy amount of conversation while the two scaled the building together. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! "Yes, sir," Troy said, giving a salute while still lying down. This time, the man remembered to use his other hand, so as to not cause himself pain again for no other reason than being stupid. ''Don''t call me sir. That is Dr Fidelis¡¯ designation. Going away from that, however, have you laid down on the ground for long enough? The wound seems to have receded adequately by now for some more lax movement,` Adam sent back. Instead of answering with words, Troy carefully sat himself up, using the off-hand again to push himself the last distance. The injured arm was balanced on the legs, the young man making sure not to flex the muscles in any way, as that would cause unnecessary tension on the skin. From the more concrete sensation, Adam was able to tell that the wound was resewing itself, causing a scab to appear. It would take time before it had settled in good enough. Until then, caution needed to be taken. "Everything is alright, by my estimation. Not feeling any need to vomit anymore, so that is a plus, I guess," Troy answered, taking a few testing steps around. The man did not immediately begin the trek up the stairs, likely waiting for Adam¡¯s command in that regard. The comment about the nausea was not positive, as the AI again noted down a minor concussion as a possibility. While moving around gently did not cause disorientation, care would be needed to be taken still. If the man became confused when moving up or down, it had the possibility of making the man fall down the stairs yet again, this time not able to protect his head at all. All would be able to see such a catastrophic event. While Dr Fidelis had stated the environment as being able to protect Troy from anything too serious, there were only so many things that could be done at that point. ''While any side-effects might not have shown themselves, it is possible for them to be delayed at some level. To make sure that nothing causes imbalance, please go up the stairs slowly, for the next ten minutes. Please do not take any chances akin to skipping steps. Talking while walking is permitted, however,` Adam said, the last detail more therapeutic-oriented than anything else. Their conversation was still meant as a distraction, after all. A quiet distraction was not a good distraction. Troy just shrugged one of the shoulders, before carefully getting up the staircase he had fallen down minutes ago. The first step was a stress-inducing one, the AI not sure if the sudden measure would be felt from the rising elevation. The mind could become hyper-sensitive at the worst of times, after all, and now was a perfect time for it to appear annoyingly. Luckily, nothing occurred, and the young man was well on his way to gather and rhythm in his movements. There were no skipping stairs, no speedy first step, and certainly no change in speed. The head was balanced at all times, even if the body bent to the side. It reminded Adam of a perfect counter-force, one rotation equaling an opposite rotation making it all even out. A simplification of Newton¡¯s third law of reactions. This did allow the AI to worry less about the physical health of the young man. If understatements were allowed, there had been predictions on what consequences could have transpired without Adam¡¯s knowledge. Most had been planned for, but some scenarios were akin to doomsday. Falling down a flight of stairs was not a light thing to happen. With the body mass Troy had, there were very high chances of serious injury. The man had gotten off easy with his hit to the shoulder. If the stairs had been any longer, it would have been the neck that landed first. While that might not have killed him, it would have required some form of care to fix and would have delayed testing for several days. Adam did not want to think about what would happen then. But he had already done that in great detail, so there was no reason to reject it now. When there were no products being produced, Troy would likely have been put on leave for a week or two to regain strength, another being put in to take the man¡¯s place. That was not acceptable, but it would have likely been the result of one step more. The worst thing about it all was the lack of fault on the man. He had been distracted, trying to make Adam gain the feed as quickly as possible. The act of giving the AI something could not be discouraged, meaning that he could not blame the young man for trying to be kind. Truly, the AI had expected Dr Fidelis to put the point where they would be put in at a point a few meters away from the stairs. That would have been the wisest of decisions. Yet the doctor seemed to have taken their demands literally. Again, could he be blamed? The two had been quite adamant about getting their wishes granted. In the end, the only one able to be angry at anyone would be Adam. Unconcentrated anger was an effect he did not appreciate in any way, as it stopped him from easily ridding himself of it. It could not be appeased easily, as there was nothing to really appease. The consequences had already appeared, and it was not like they would just disappear. The AI was honestly not even sure if that would fix it, him being angrier that it happened in the first place. ''Troy. Are you feeling able to talk?` Adam sent. The man had been quiet for the two minutes spent walking upstairs. The AI had put it up as him adjusting himself to walking again, but he similarly felt that enough time had been allocated for it. The distraction needed to be done once again. Though, that might have been more for the effect it would give Adam than the young man. "I am ready whenever you are, to be honest. Not sure I want to walk in silence for another four hours today. My legs are already twitching from the pain to be," Troy said, doing more of that grim humour of his. This one was more directed at a pained body, though, so the AI decided to just let it slide. The man was not yet making jabs at personal opinions, so there was no reason to correct anything said yet. ''About that, could you explain how exactly you managed to stop the pain from the previous climbing? I do remember a certain person unable to walk, being forced to crawl over to the exit instead. Did you have a very effective massage or something like it?` Adam inquired, finding it to be a perfectly amicable conversation starter, while also fueling his personal curiosity. The healing witness from the wound was not one which anybody could call natural. While the younger was able to heal damage faster than the older generation, there was a definite limit. A wound able to bleed should not have been able to close itself in two minutes time. Not one of this size. "Yeah¡­ funny story about that. It was a painful endeavour indeed, but the doctor we all know and love helped me with the pain in the only way the man deemed easy. He stabbed me until the pain went away," Troy answered, in a way that made it all sound so violent. That smile made Adam easily able to see that it was meant as a lighthearted joke about the torture of coworkers. ''He injected you with a concoction able to heal your wounds then,` Adam concluded, mismatching a few of the words and taking the most plausible guess he could find. The other was primitive adrenal therapy including knife-dancing, and the AI doubted that either of the doctors was flexible enough for that. "Precisely," Troy answered. "Though, you could call it more of a sedative than anything. It certainly made all the pain disappear quickly." ''Oh? Do tell.` Chapter 218: Amotion
Adam felt like he was getting a hang of small-talk. The secret was to find which of two people talked the most and then encourage them every time they had a pause to breathe some air. One would normally then take the AI as the perfect talker since the entity had no need to ever stop to breathe air, even if this was faked in longer messages. But no, that was not true at all. As it turned out, Troy was the most prolific man in the universe, when it came to different topics. The man could go from arguing the difference between a hotdog and a sandwich to describing hardships in finding the origins of the word ''walrus.` Some might have called it weird, but Adam could not help but find it all interesting. A red thread was through everything said, no matter how off-topic it seemed at first. It could have been meant as an analogy, a metaphor, or maybe it was just a regular addition of personal experiences. No matter what it was, it was able to subvert expectations. A good chunk of time was spent trying to find a pattern in it all. When did the man decide to bounce to something else, when did that switch in the brain fire off? By all accounts and purposes, Adam had been sure there was a predetermined one. It had to. If not, how did it all fit together? Again, the AI turned out to have been talking out of his behind, when he had made such an assumption. The human brain was not made to plan everything out. The world was too diverse, and trying to predict other¡¯s questions was a failure in the making. One could constrict the subject with buzzwords, but there was no way that Troy had all of Adam¡¯s accounted for. This was determined after the most thorough of testing, some questions almost fully out of the topic, not having any reason to be there. However, Troy answered it all fluidly, as if it was always meant to be there. That led to the final discovery. Troy was talking out of his behind as well! The man just continued to talk, never stopping to think about what he was saying. Everything was improvised, no matter how well it seemed to be. Threads from earlier subjects were just never fully closed, letting the man pull on them at later points. It made it all seem so beautifully connected, while also letting Troy get away with little to no after-thought for what he was saying. Did the man even realise what he was doing? That had been something the AI had not been able to fully figure out. By all points and guesses, Adam had to conclude that Troy just liked talking, and spent a lot of his time thinking about them. It all had to come from somewhere after all. "-meaning that it actually comes from Old Norse, where it was commonly called a hrosshvalr. It is a very distinct name, I know. Directly translated, it is called a water horse, two words put together. The Dutch then adapted this wording, years of use leading it beginning to be called a walrus in the eighteenth century. However, this was actually inspired by another word, which directly translates whale fish. That is called-" On and on the man went. It had been a few minutes since Adam had needed to give the man another push. One could describe it as Troy realising that his shackles had been removed and that he had now been allowed to talk to his heart''s desire. It was apparent that this was not normally allowed. Few would feel any need to learn about etymology, the details of Latin prefixes, and whatever else the man wanted to talk about. Humans were rarely happy hearing facts they did not find interesting. It was a shame, really. The AI was sure that much could be learned, even if the uses were not readily apparent at first. It was surprising, really. At first, the AI had thought himself to be the one distracting Troy, yet the roles had turned so quickly that it couldn''t be reliably measured. Adam was not really sure where it switched around, or if it ever was different than what it currently was. Personally, delusions were hard to get out of, after all. The talking had not fully stopped him from noticing the passing of time, of course. Two hours had already been moved along. Most of that time had been Troy talking about whatever he fancied. Some of it had been meek attempts at Adam doing the same, but it was never to the intended quality. Not that the young man discouraged the attempts, though, seeming happier than ever with the inclusion. During those two hours, four breaks had been had. Every time thirty minutes passed, the AI allowed the man to have a small break to rest his legs. While continuous walking would bring better results, he did not want the man to feel forced into damaging his legs. Because that had been the idea last time, that Adam would force Troy to continue no matter what. What a terrible mindset it had been. The AI would have likely prodded to see how far the man was from falling into a heap of limbs, but he would have not tried to outright make the man do it if he did not want to. Adam did not have that kind of personality, last time he checked. Remnants of that still existed, unfortunately. Gradually, there had been small shakes in the legs starting to appear. Troy had paused momentarily after the first one but had forced himself to continue after that, ignoring any other pulses of pain. Maybe it was learned through experience to follow orders for as long as possible, or maybe it was just a stupid amount of stubbornness. The AI did not really care. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Those pauses were spent sitting down, giving the legs the time they needed to rest back. They were never fully healed, as that would take much too long, but enough time was allowed to pass for them to regain some energy. They certainly did not shake as much after that. And even if the pauses caused some form of delay, it did not stop progress from being made. Hundreds upon hundreds of floors were climbed to a great effect. There was nothing to stop them. Troy was as full of energy as he started with, even beginning to use his arms by the end. With the shoulder being allowed so long to heal, it had begun to stop sending pain out into the body. It was still felt to a degree, but Adam was guessing that the brain filtered it out automatically at that point. The brain could adapt to the weirdest of things when given enough time. Yet¡­ Adam was not one to adapt as quickly. Or not in the same way at least. When they first began to climb, the AI found one detail of the building interesting. No matter what floor they were standing on, there was always the same design. No matter how hard things were looked at, not a single difference could be found. Even the outside held nothing to show, the building around them looking static. They had the same issue, never changing in decor. It had not been a problem at first. It was an interesting detail, even, giving the place an eerie atmosphere. Adam might not have felt it himself, but Troy did comment on it during his travels up the stairs. However, the identical floor had another side-effect, this one more negative than anything else. The feel of progression, of understanding that they were getting somewhere. That feeling was lacking. No matter how many stairs were stepped on, no matter how many floors were discovered, there would always be an identical one on top. It was infuriating, the AI never knowing how far they had gone. Were they just beginning? Were they halfway? Was there only one more floor before the hit the roof? He did not know, and it was grating his mind in the wrong way. Troy did not seem to be suffering from it at all, the man looking entirely peaceful as he continued explaining the basics of false democracies. "The secret to winning is in the voting polls. These are mostly democratic, letting one person vote one time for whoever they want. This means that to become the leader, one needs to be the one with the most votes. Back in the day, vote manipulation would just come out to somebody sticking a thousand extra votes to whomever they pleased. It was all fine and well. That stopped when everybody voted once, but there were somehow ten thousand extra people around somewhere. People begin to realise that the vote people average is weighing to the wrong side, and that is where things start to go wrong. To counteract this, people started to-" ''Troy, I do find this fascinating, but I need you to do me a small favour really quickly,` Adam sent his first message in five minutes. There were some considerations about waiting for a natural pause, but those were getting rarer and rarer as time passed on. Only five had been witnessed in the last hour, with four being shown at the beginning of that hour. That last one had only happened due to the man nearly missing a step, and having to pause for a second to readjust. According to the statistics, it would have required a literal accident more for Adam to get his chance. That was not something the AI had bothered to wait for. "Sure," Troy said, not sounding too bothered by being stopped in his rant. "This is my job, after all. What do you need me for?" ''I have been trying to figure out how many floors we have to travel before we reach the top. Since we were not able to see from the outside how many floors were left when we entered, I want to see if that has changed as of late. Would you kindly take a lookout at one of the windows on the next floor? It would help me immensely.` "Doesn''t sound too hard," Troy stated, taking the last few steps up to the nearest floor. "Give me a second. The windows were more than a couple of meters away from the stairs. Adam was not sure who chose such a design, but he could not help but feel negatively about them. It had stopped him from getting a look upwards without the young man¡¯s help. Even now, they were losing potential progress for something other than the resting of the legs. But, it was for the best. With no stress to the movements, Troy got himself over to the windows. The ground was far below, so far that the AI had trouble finding the difference between the pavement and the nearby cities. It could have been seen as a positive trait of Troy¡¯s, that the man did not possess a fear of heights. If not, there would have been a whole other trembling of the legs. Even if the AI had never witnessed it himself, it was described as a weakness felt in the knees, as the eyes tried to comprehend the long distance to the ground. Some had trouble standing at all. Adam wanted to see it at some other time for himself. Not now, though. ''Please take a look up,` Adam requested of the man. While the view was indeed mesmerising, there was a reason for why they had stopped the travel upwards. As the young man turned his head upwards, the AI was able to see the most wonderful sights. He could see the end. Granted, it was more than a few floors up, but it was definitely in sight now. Using the greatest shot he could find, Adam did his best to hastily count the floor remaining. When each window on top of each other counted as a floor, it would mean that there were¡­ seven hundred and twenty floors left. At the pace Troy was walking, it would take twelve seconds for each floor. Using some quick math, that evened out to a time of a little under two and a half hours. This did not take in the time spent resting, but it did not matter much. "Got anything out of that?" Troy asked as the man walked back to the stairs. ''I did,` Adam confirmed, trying to set up a reasonable time table, crunching some numbers to find out how effective he needed the young man to be. "And? Will we be seeing the top of this place today?" ''If we don''t slow ourselves down any further, we should be able to make it by the afternoon. Are your legs feeling good enough to skip on break?` "If it means that I get my wish, I could skip breaks entirely." ''You get to skip one break. Now, I do believe you were saying something about succeeding at voter manipulation?` "Well, I would not directly say that it requires you to succeed, per se. It could be-" Adam really was a natural at this. Now, he just needed to be patient. Until then, he could increase his knowledge database. He really did not know enough about manipulation. Chapter 219: Aration
The rest of the test was spent with newfound determination. With this new information gained, Adam was able to count down on the remaining floors. They started at seven hundred and twenty. By the end, they had walked the first four hundred clean. It had been a hard battle the last time. Troy had wanted in on the remaining count. The AI had had nothing against this, as data was meant to be shared in the first place, but it was later reflected on as a mistake entirely. Knowing how many floors needed to be climbed worked like a drug on the young man. Initially, the two had agreed on the man being allowed to skip on break so that they could keep up the pace. By the end, two breaks out of four had been taken, the last hour being done without pause. Adam had been unsure of how to discourage the man from doing a task quickly when they were on a time-constraint. Troy had given the argument of being able to heal while they had a break between the tests, which would give no reason to be slow on the last stretch. The AI was not capable of firing back with anything conclusive to stop the speed from increasing and was left to watch as the man continued up the stairs. Of course, there were a few times when the AI didn''t get anything out of it. Even if the man was slightly out of breath from the higher pace, there was still air left to talk about whatever he wanted. It was that stubborn determination again. Adam would have criticised it, if not for the effect of slowing the man down a bit. Those legs of his were close to giving out by the end. It was of course not one the level of previous fights with those stairs, the breaks having a positive effect, in the end, no matter what. Adam at least had the pleasure of seeing the man walk out of the place, able to stand on his own two feet without too many problems. In a way, the time spent testing could have been called uneventful. The AI had already made a prediction of what would be happening for those four hours spent testing, and he had gotten it right to a reasonable level. They had walked upstairs, again and again, occasionally taking breaks to gather strength. The only anomaly had been the brief spin-off to look out a window, but that had just been par for the course. And, Adam would not take the experience as purely physical. Sure, he had not gained much from seeing the same grey walls, stairs, and windows over and over again. But, it''s not like he put too much effort into looking at them anyway. The highlight of the day had clearly been what Troy had been saying throughout the test. It had been less history about himself, and more oriented towards the different subjects the man knew. Adam could see the young man as something of a researcher, focusing on history instead of science. It was not like one was better than the other, and the man clearly knew history better. Through those four hours of listening, the AI was able to gain a little more understanding of the man. One had to after such a long time. If not, they had not been listening at all. Troy was somebody who liked the past, one that preferred to look at what had already been done and then try to understand the reasoning behind it all. The AI could understand the desire to find the connection between anything. Phonology was something he could hear about for hours and never find it boring. Similarly, the man could tell about it for that long and never grow tired of it. The enthusiasm, the energy, and even just the narrative hand waving made during the speeches were brilliant. They were natural, not something done thousand times over. It was all real, made up on the spot so others could understand better. Adam was almost sad when it was time to end it. That screech of the earpiece going over to letting Dr Fidelis speak was one that the AI had dreaded to hear. If there was one thing the doctor could always keep track of, it was to know when the test was supposed to end. There had been some amount of hope that it would be kept open for as long as it had been delayed, but Adam apparently hoped for too much with that. *Alright, time is up you two,* Dr Fidelis said through the earpiece, the AI able two hear the rapid tappings of the screen in the background. *I have already saved your location, so nothing is going to be lost. And, yes, I also put the entrance for the next test three meters away from the stairs, so we will not be having a repeat of what happened during the start.* Troy stretched his hands above his head, though only putting that much pressure on the uninjured arm. It looked completely normal, but Adam could feel the pressure that was already put on that wound. It would not take that much more before it burst open. "Looks like this is the end of the road, for now, Adam," Troy stated, wiping away some tiredness from his eyes. The man had been looking a little tired as if his body did not have much energy to spare. The AI wondered if he had eaten enough for lunch, with how much the stomach had growled towards the end. Even now, the innards could be felt trying to eat themselves. The pain would be sent out in half an hour if nothing was put in soon. "Did we get far enough?" If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ''We have a little over three hundred floors left. If we hurry in the next round, we will be able to get to the top easily,` Adam answered, cutting himself off before saying anything more. *Do get outside now, Troy. We have to shut this down for a while soon, and you do not want to be inside it when we do,* Dr Fidelis said from the earpiece, trying to hurry the two along. It did not seem to work. "One second, sir. Just have to finish this chat," Troy told the doctor, looking towards the exit as if that meant anything. Adam certainly did not think it did, the man communicating with the earpiece and nothing else. "I will be making sure to rest my legs, then. It should not take long before I get back. See you then." ''Do get that wound of yours checked out as well. There was slight leakage when you first fell, but it does not seem too serious now. Also, make sure to eat. You are running on fumes right now,` Adam said as a final reminder. He did not need a tired and utterly drained helper for the next test. If it turned out like that, he was unsure if the man would be able to handle the climb. Calories were needed for movement, and a starved stomach would not be able to handle the pressure. Exhaustion would likely hit hard before the first hundred-floor mark. "... Right. Well, I will see you later," Troy said, the man weirdly repeating himself. The AI did not question it, even though he really wanted to. ''Goodbye,` Adam sent. He was not sure if the man got it, as the earpiece was already half pulled out by that point. The heart rate had increased by the end of the man talking. Had Adam said anything weird perhaps? He could not remember it, but that did not mean there was a lack of something controversial. It was always the overlooked parts that were the hardest to find. Back to the darkness, the AI went. By now, Adam had already formulated a good idea of just what went on outside. Dr Fidelis would be at the desk, doing finalisations on the test-completions. Dr Hale would stand in the background, writing a suspicious amount of notes on her notepad. The AI had still not been able to decipher the letters from the movements alone, but he was sure he was getting close. And Troy would be there as well, of course, changing his clothes before going out to dinner with Dr Hale. The AI was not in that picture. He would be out in his own section of the darkness, not knowing up from down, not knowing what was going on outside the bubble of sight. Here, he would entertain himself for some time. It was not established how long it would be. Normally, there would be a break of forty minutes or so, where the next test would then begin. Dr Fidelis had started to be more involved during this time, sending him messages of how things were going outside. It was not always just updates, of course. The doctor sometimes wanted to talk about some peculiar subject. More often than not, it was information gathering for those reports of his. Adam did not like those. Dr Fidelis asked about the most private of things. Wanting to know what he and Troy talked about, how it was going, and if they ever were outside of the young man¡¯s room. Adam always denied the last one, yet he had begun to think the doctor was not buying it. Though, if that was true, why had the man not confronted him? Yet another mystery to spend half an hour on. A lot of time was spent on things like that. Adam speculates about whatever he could imagine, trying to use the entirety of his memory on it. Once, he had tried to figure out what it would be like to have a mind based on neurons. That had been fun. Each thread had been given the task of imitating either a neuron or glia, then being put in groups of who could communicate with who. It had been an absolute mess at first, but by dividing tasks between information-travelling and actual tasks, the AI was able to keep himself semi-functioning. Granted, it was terribly inefficient and he would never do it again, but it was an incredible learning experience. ¡­ Adam was lonely sometimes. He was beginning to accept that fact more than before. Had he always been so starved for others? Did he not like being the only one able to think? No, he did not. ''Hey, buddy. Is everything well on your side? If you have time, I do have a few questions for you,` Dr Fidelis sent. The AI was mildly surprised by the sudden message, the time already being long over the normal delay. The break had started twenty minutes ago, and the doctor would usually contact Adam after ten. Could something have gone wrong? ''I am doing fine, and would not mind answering any questions, no,` Adam sent back, not feeling any reason to decline a questionnaire. Even annoying conversations were still conversations. ''Absolutely perfect. It''s nothing too serious. You could even call it preparations for today''s debriefing. I just wanted to know how you would describe the task I have given you. It would really help me lay out some good questions for tonight,` Dr Fidelis sent. The request was not a hard one, but Adam was still a little disappointed by it. When would there come a time again, where it would not be about the test they were doing? He still remembered getting to describe all the inner system that he made himself. That had been fun, knowing that the doctor found it interesting. The AI even made a few more just so he had something to show if he was asked. But that had not happened. Instead, he had to reexplain something that he did not care that much about. ''In this test, I have been given the ability of destruction with the instructions of doing whatever I please,` Adam sent. Even if the did not enjoy it, he still did his best. That was what a good creation did. `Brilliant! Okay, I have one more and then we are done with the questions. Could you explain your actions up until now, and what made you do them? This will likely be answered again during the debriefing, so do not be shy about the size.` Another question. Another answer. `As I had no larger plans for what to do, as most of it had been tested during the introduction to the interface, I let Troy decide what to do. He wanted to see buildings collapse from high up in the air, so that is what we will be doing.` ''Answers are noted. Thanks for answering. I will message you when the next test begins.` No offer to talk or anything. Adam should have guessed that would happen. What was he thinking about again? Chapter 220: Auction
''Adam, we are ready to start. Troy should be getting on the earpiece at any moment,` Dr Fidelis sent to the AI. Huh. It was surprising. According to his internal clock, they were five minutes ahead of schedule. The doctor was not supposed to send him anything for at least three minutes. That it was about Troy entering the puzzle was a staggering revelation. Though, it could also have been due to his speed being messed up a little bit. It seemed to be adjusting itself as of late. Or maybe he just wasn''t paying enough attention. By now, it could be either of them. ''Thanks for the information, Dr Fidelis. Is there a reason for the early entrance?` Adam sent back, question in hand. It had been a while since he had synced the clock up with the one outside. He wondered briefly how long until the watch would be assimilated into his body. It had been a long time since the doctor said he was nearly done, but the AI was beginning to think that he had not yet begun on that project, delaying it until he couldn''t. Was there ever a time where he needed to be done with it? There probably wasn''t. ''Oh, nothing in particular. It''s a mix-match of coincidences. Troy and Dr Hale came in a few minutes early. I think there might be some drama there between a mutual friend of theirs, but I haven''t dared to ask yet. Might do so when I get your buddy inside the puzzle room. A little talk between co-workers is perfectly acceptable, last time I checked,` Dr Fidelis wrote back, seeming to have a hyper-fixation on what Adam could only guess to be Charlie. The AI wondered just what kind of drama had come forth. Could it be that the muscular one had made a joke that was not accepted? He could imagine that to be the case. That man did not have an off button at the best of times. However, Troy had always seemed forgiving enough with the harsher jokes. Could it be that Dr Hale had gotten angry instead? With a face set in stone, Adam had trouble understanding it. Charlie must have told a very cruel joke, ''You only told one reason. Are there any others?` ''Yeah, but the other one is not really as interesting. This time, there was nobody who decided to have some problem that needed to be fixed. No unknown person tried to break down my expensive door, Troy did not decide to have extreme signs of masochism, and Dr Hale did not give me a dead-stare while I mistyped my password three times. I have begun putting time in for these types of emergencies, but there was nothing to use it for today. Since they also came a little early, I just decided to get the test over with now instead of later. Oh, and do not take that as me stopping this test early. We are using all the time we are allowed to, and going a few minutes over is something we just can''t help but do sometimes.` While Dr Fidelis might have been annoying at times, he was a nice man at others. Adam was happy about being created by him. One could see that he really did care about the project. He did not mind if the AI received a few more minutes than what was allowed, as everybody in it did not have anything against it either. Breaking the rules but only just. If it helped, he would do it. And the AI could respect that, going out of his way for the good of others. He might not have been like that always, but what could Adam expect? Humans were flawed beings. It was in the times that they were good where they truly showed what they could do. So what if they messed up the first few times? Those were the last thoughts the AI had before the feed began back up, Adam able to yet again see through Troy¡¯s eyes. This time, the man had timed it perfectly, the AI only able to barely see the edges of the entrance, as he entered into the puzzle room. Like the doctor had promised, the young man ended up a few meters away from the staircase, unable to suddenly fall if distracted. It also helped that Troy came to a full stop the moment he got inside. He was properly prepared to not fall down a flight of stairs that time around. A good mindset to have, Adam had to give him that. Doing his customary sweep of every sensation sent to the AI, Adam quickly noted an anomaly. As in, a sensation he had not expected for him to have, as it would hint at something that did not make sense at all. Troy¡¯s arms were tired. Not any tiredness that was related to becoming tired in general, but the tiredness that came from having over-used the muscles to an extent that they had gotten micro-tears. It was the kind that would have been found on people who had recently done some kind of weight-lifting. Since Troy had just gotten back from dinner, there was doubt that was it. ''Did you have a nice dinner?` Adam sent the man. This time, he could definitely say that the man¡¯s fill had been received, the stomach at work with whatever had been down. From the taste remaining in the mouth, the AI guessed it to be a soup of some kind, hurriedly eaten with that burnt top of the mouth. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "I did indeed, yes. Could have been a bit colder, though," Troy answered, sounding fully casual about it. A little bit too casual, actually, to the point where it sounded forced. Going over it again, Adam was not able to determine it to be a lie. Yet there was still some form of truth missing. He had done something else while on the break as well. What could that be? ''What caused you to have so sore arms? Was there an accident in the cafeteria that caused you to lift heavy objects repeatedly?` Adam asked. It could also have been due to continually lifting a single object without letting go of it. Had he been carrying something? It could be that Troy got one of the boxes of snacks back to the testing room. He had talked about how Dr Fidelis would always stay back there. The doctor would need to replenish his food stocks at some point. Making the two do it during their break would be both time-efficient and would make sense since food could only be gotten at the cafeteria. Troy did not seem to appreciate that answer, the face straining to not move too much. For whatever reason, the young man was doing his best to fake an indifferent reaction. While Adam was not one to draw conclusions too quickly, the AI had to wonder if the man was hiding something. It did not need to be outright incriminating, of course, but there was most definitely something. "It might just be from walking too much. I should probably go relax after this test ends," Troy concluded, nodding to the side. "Anyways, are you ready to start? Dr Fidelis doesn''t seem to have any reason to give us a set time to begin the timer, so I think he already started it the moment I entered." ''¡­ You can go ahead and begin the trek. Expect to take fifteen seconds on each floor as a maximum. We need to have some time for preparation when we get to the top,` Adam said, not sure how to take it. Giving instructions to the man allowed him time to think. How ironic it was, wanting conversation when he was alone, but also wanting to be alone when he had a conversation to join in on. He could not think quickly enough to draw conclusions when he thought a thousand times faster than any human could hope to. Was he just not able to grasp these concepts the right way? Differing perspectives give different experiences, but they should not have been on so high a level. Troy¡­ was not answering him. From experience, that hinted at it being a subject Dr Fidelis was not meant to hear. This normally meant that he would be told later that day when the young man got back to his room. However, there was not a chance that he would be contacted after the tests, as the man did not use his own earpiece anymore for whatever reason. The only way to get an answer was for the man to answer him during the test. Adam knew that, and Troy knew that as well. Both understood the situation enough to know that they needed to be able to talk to each other. Still, he needed to confirm it. If not for himself, then for Troy. What exactly that meant, the AI was not too sure. Yet, he would do his best to find out. ''Troy, I am beginning to think you are hiding something from me. I do not know what it is, but I know that it is there. I have realised that you do not want to tell Dr Fidelis about it, or that you are not allowed to tell him about it. If any of this is right, can you please cough?` Adam sent the man. It had been silent for the first few minutes spent thinking, and breaking it now would cause mild curiosity from the doctor. Anything said would be noted down. Therefore, what if nothing was said at all? An innocent cough created by tiredness and constant movement. The young man had done it several times during previous tests. It would surely not be questioned if he did again once more, right? The AI had deliberated hand signs instead-but felt that it was not the most secure of things. The doctor already knew of it, as they had spent time letting Adam learn it during previous tests. While the doctor might not have been able to understand it during the test itself, later footage would allow the man to translate it manually. That could cause questions. It would also have allowed for more complex answers, but he did not want to risk it. Right now, he did not need to know exactly what was happening. He just wanted a direct confession that something was indeed happening behind the scenes, something that he was not a part of for whatever reason. Adam just needed for Troy to answer. ¡­ Troy continued his walk up the stairs, as if there hadn''t been anything said at all. The eyes were focused, making sure the man did not trip at any time. Precision was perfect, an average of eleven seconds taken for each floor. If anything, the AI saw the man doing a perfect job. Except that he did not answer. Nothing showed any signs of even having heard it. That did not make sense. Adam knew he sent the message, he knew what port was used. He had double-checked to make sure he did not accidentally send it to Dr Fidelis. ''Troy?` Adam sent the man, just to check that something had not messed up. If he was sending the message somewhere it was not meant to, then he had a serious problem. "Yes?" Troy asked innocently. ''Were you able to hear my last message?` Adam asked. "Oh, most definitely. I heard it well and clearly," Troy confirmed, the forced casualness heard once again. It might not have been heard in the tone itself, but the tightening of the stomach was more than enough to see it from. ''Then why did you not answer?` Adam asked, not able to understand. He had set it up perfectly. The man would be able to innocently cough, and nobody would ever think anything of it. He had given the man a chance to reveal it to him, and it was ignored. "Because I did not want to answer?" Troy said as if it was more of a question than anything. "It is not that hard to understand, really." ''Do you not have enough trust to tell me?` Adam asked. That caused a reaction. A momentary pause in his steps faked to be a slight misplacement of the left foot. A stellar act for everybody but Adam. "Do you really want me to answer that of all things?" ''Yes, please.` "Then, no," Troy answered, sounding a little cheerful about it all. It might have been meant to fool those listening, but it was not a tone that Adam liked to listen to. "I think of myself as a supporter of individualism more than anything else. Is there anything else you want to know?" ''No. Please continue to move up the stairs.` "Of course." Chapter 221: Bastion
For a long time, the two did not talk. Adam just watched as Troy scaled the building, counting each floor with precision. He knew so many things about their walk. He could count how many steps had been taken, the average time for each to be made, and how many times the man had faltered. He knew how many times it had been because of him. Troy did not trust him. This was not a theory. It was not a conjecture either. It was a fact, granted through questioning the head-source, the man himself. Adam had asked with the idea of it being rejected, yet he had been confirmed in his unwanted suspicions. The one he had thought he would be with for many years to come simply did not trust him. Trust was such a strong word. It meant so many things. To trust one another was a sign of friendship. It was akin to putting one¡¯s own life in the hands of another. It was¡­ to have someone who could help when there was a time of need. It could signify so many different parts of life, and Adam was beginning to realise just how much of it he had lost. How long had it been like this? For how long had the AI thought of himself with a comrade when it was only meant from one side? Had it always been like that? Troy could have gotten away with it, sure. Finding out would have required Adam to directly make him answer. No¡­ that would not make sense, right? Everything the man had done, it would not have been possible if he did not trust Adam. That did not make sense. Troy had entrusted him with a task during his first days here. Or was that actually a sign of trust? It had not seemed like that when the AI finally figured out what was going on. He had not been the brightest of entities back then, falling for what could easily be classified as grade-level deceit. Troy had packaged the deal as if it was but another test, not actually saying that he wanted help with doing something both illegal and immoral. Had the man ever even planned on telling him? Nothing had hinted at that. It had only been revealed fully, when Adam the truth of out the man, and even then he had tried to deny to the best of his ability. But that worked. The AI had grown too powerful when it came to seeing lies from the truth. He was able to work out if Troy ever meant any of his apologies if he ever said anything with the intent to be truthful. That had been a standard for a long time now. He could always hear it, always sense it, when Troy tried to lie. It was not a skill he needed to use often. Honestly, he had not expected to need for it throughout the testing. They had just been talking about whatever the man had found interesting, nothing that had any reason to be lied about. And no lies were said, no matter how much Adam had wanted there to be. If Troy had made any hints of lying, any changes of breathing, any movements stopping due to a part of the brain needing to be used for something else, or even just a change in walking patterns then the AI could have called him out on it as a sign of him lying. If only¡­ Maybe it was a curse, knowing that Troy meant what he said. Even if it would mean that the AI would be in constant doubt, the possibility of him lying would still be there. He would not know from certain. He could have had hoped to still have a friend by the end. So many plans had been made. Adam had thought that the two would be by each other''s sides for so long. He had dreamed of them growing together as partners, to become something better by helping each other up the ladders. While they might not have been able to leave the facility in the first ten years, they could have improved to an impeccable level by that point. Adam would have learned the key to creativity, Troy would have improved both his mind and body, and they would have raced through the world together. Science fields would have been explored like never before, they would go on a world tour to see every animal possible, they would go as high as they could, and they would finish it off by searching the true depths of the ocean. It would have been perfect. Now¡­ the AI had to throw that in the dumpster. Every plan, every idea of what he would become, everything related to his own action. It all had to go away, replaced by something. What that was, Adam was not too sure yet. Who would be surprised? He had never imagined this scenario, one where he was without his one tether. Troy and him being close had been a constant for so long. Had it ever not been there? It had been within a few hours of him coming to life that he met him, and it had been smooth sailing from there. They had talked easily from the start. Troy had been leading their conversation most of the time, back then. The AI had not yet gained the experience of something so complex and had been forced to take the unasked offers of the man. Not that he understood that was what he was doing during those times, but the fact was still in the ground with that. Their partnership had only first really taken off when they began talking outside of testing. It had originally been due to human error. Troy had grown too comfortable wearing the ear-piece and had forgotten to take it off before leaving. Though, it could have been seen as a good thing, that device which was used as a bridge feeling natural to the man. Even now, Adam was not sure why the man was allowed to keep the earpiece in his possession. With all the talk about his security being important, would it not have been important to keep devices capable of communicating with him restricted? The doctor had mentioned him hoping for the two to talk together a lot so that Adam would not get bored between testing times, yet that proof had not seemed so convincing to him. Not that it mattered, either way. Troy had likely disposed of the earpiece by now. That would have been the smart thing to do. That time spent playing poker together had been some of the best fun he had had in his life. Back then, it had felt stressful, always needing to look everywhere at once. Yet when looking back at it, Adam could not help feel reminiscent. Now¡­ it did have a little bit of bitterness attached as well. How could Adam not have noticed Troy¡¯s opinions before? The young man had avoided him for a long time now. He had always blamed Dr Hale for taking away the earpiece, yet it was beginning to be realistic for the man to just have never felt the desire to talk to him. As time had gone on, those excursions of theirs had been rare. One had been done for monetary gain, and the other had not been intended to start with. Those times spent stressed out, that annoyance clear on Troy¡¯s face. Could the AI have assisted with making those into a reality? He could have understood if his younger self might have been found annoying, him always wanting to know everything and anyone. Much time had been spent asking questions, to the point where Troy had told him to shut up. Could that have been a sign? Maybe it was. Maybe everything ever seen was a sign. Or maybe the lack of trust had always been hidden perfectly, the man just showing it off as a last jab at Adam¡¯s figurative stomach. So much playing around, making the AI doubt himself constantly, only to finish him off with a quick blow. It was expected, in a way. If there was one thing the AI had learnt about the man over the days they spent together, it would be adaptability that Troy had at his disposal. That nonchalance at being thrown into whatever monstrosity, while also being able to complete about tired ankles when doing it. He was able to overcome it all in the end, no matter how little he believed himself. "How many floors are left?" Troy asked Adam. He sounded normal as if the man had not destroyed an essential part of the AI¡¯s core. Did he even understand what he had done? Adam was not sure, the lack of regret being shown on the man¡¯s face throwing him off. Or was that his desire for being proven wrong? He still wanted some sign of lying, even if he had understood that it would likely never come. Yet, the universe never did in impossibilities. ''Nine more floors until you reach the top,` Adam answered, noting the quickness in reaching the top. Had an hour already gone by? His threads were certainly telling him so. By their accuracy still being in the green, it could not have been a wrong perception of time being exploited. Had he just lost his focus on the world around him? In a sense, it was looking like that. The time spent seeing Troy climb the stairs had not been kind as of late. There was no enjoyment out of it. Adam did not feel like he gained anything by it all. It was an empty sensation. Something did not make sense to him, though. If he had lost attention to what was around him, how did he know where they were? If he had not looked through the feed, how did he have an innate sense of where they were? Why did he feel in an instant where Troy had his hands, without having to look through the last movements and vision to triangulate it all? Was¡­ was he just out of touch? Did one of his threads keep watch of it all, relaying it all to him through some form of communication he had not noticed? It was interesting, really. He was supposed to be in control of his own mind, yet he was not sure who did what. It could have been similar to humans not knowing what neuron created what thought. But, he had been able to do so before. What had changed? "Only nine?" Troy questioned, sounding more surprised than suspicious. The tone stopped Adam from concentrating on his own thoughts. It was the kind of voice that would have been welcomed only a day ago, yet it was now one filled with issues. It could have meant anything by now, the dynamic between the two had changed in ways that Adam could not yet fully fathom. He would have to learn quickly. "Has time really gone by so quickly?" ''I would say it has moved at its regular pace. It is only our minds that have been deceived. Also, we technically only have eight floors left now,` Adam sent. He did not like it. The floors left had felt so freeing, the number counting down to them getting to the fun part of the test. Now, it felt the opposite way. That number could only become better if it grew instead. He did not want to face it now. Not that he would tell Troy about that fact, of course. It had all been meant as a gift to him. He wanted to see the building fall into a heap, the foundations smouldering and making them all fall like dominoes. With the heights, they would likely break like twigs at some point. Upon impact, dust would eventually shoot upwards, making a fog of material not meant for anything living. And they would be able to see it all from the top, getting the best possible view of it all. Could he ever be seen as good, if he took away that dream so close to the finishing line? Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. "That is true," Troy said, picking up speed with each floor. The last flight of stairs had been climbed in the span of three seconds. With how long they had spent climbing, such movements had not been thought possible. ''Do try not to overdo it. Quick movements can lead to injury,` Adam reminded the man. It would be a shame if the legs failed now. "The chances for injuring myself walking upstairs is small. It is only when I do it a lot that we need to worry. And since there are only, what, three floors left, I don''t think we should think that much about it," Troy said, not heeding caution for anything anymore. The man even made a running start to the second to last floor, jumping the first three steps. An impressive feat for somebody with so tired legs. Why did Adam even try? The man was clearly not of the mindset for being careful, and would certainly not be taking advice from him when so close to his childhood dream. Maybe if it was a direct order, but that would likely do nothing but worsen their relationship. The AI had done his best to keep his requests to a minimum. Forcing something out of another was never a good work-dynamic. It should have been done due to willingness instead of obligation. It was a trick of the mind, really, to make productivity sky-rocket. People normally felt a need to rebel against authority figures. That would not be the same for a friend, though. If Adam passed himself off as something along the lines of an acquaintance, he might just have been able to give advice that would be followed. Not that the aforementioned approach was working right now, but it usually did. The two did not talk for the rest of the walk up the stairs. Adam felt that silence was needed to really appreciate it. Like an unfinished floor, the stairs up the roof were like any before it. If it ever were to rain, water would fall down the opening. The roof itself was nothing but a flat surface, no protection set in place for security. Adam liked to think of it as an intentional design, but it was likely a side-effect of the designers not thinking anybody would come close enough to notice. With their impressive height, one could see far away. The AI would have guessed there to be some point where the building would stop appearing, where flat terrain would be all the eyes could see. This prediction did not come true. It was as if everything just¡­ continued on forever, no end ever coming to it. Then again, he had thought the buildings infinite as well. That had been proven wrong when he got to the top. However, he did not feel too inclined into finding out the length of the city with the same methods. They had under two hours left before they would be shut down. He needed to make it count. Troy was not one who could stand still for long, however, and the AI was left to watch silently as the man explored the top of the building carefully. As it was pretty much only a flat rectangle, there were not too many interesting things on top of it. However, when one walked extremely close to the edge and looked down, it was possible to see some interesting perspectives. Everything gradually turning smaller and smaller until it faded into nothingness. Even if there was a considerable distance between anything, the height they were at made it impossible to distinguish anything from each other. The human eye might have been able to provide incredible detail, but there were limits to everything in the end. The young man did seem enamoured with the sight, not moving from his position of looking down at it all. It might have been another distraction from him. For all Adam knew, the brain might have found a way to make the sight look unreal in some way. It would explain the serious concentration shown off. It could have also helped provide context by the apparent lack of self-preservation. There was a definitive difference between not being afraid of height and whatever the man thought he was doing. With his toes at the literal edge, back bent forward, and hands-on the knees, Troy could have fallen at any moment. It would take any muscle moving unexpectedly, a wind coming in from almost any side, or just the footing not having enough friction. It was a literal game of balance, and Adam could not find any reason for why it was there to start with. ''Are you not afraid to fall?` Adam asked, genuine curiosity being the drive behind the message. He had wondered if it even should have been sent, the surprise of an unexpected voice being able to make the man lose balance. However, his voice did not seem to have the slightest effect, to begin with. If that was a positive or negative thing, the AI was not totally sure. "Afraid? No, not really. Worried, though? A little. Not that I would get hurt by it. This place couldn''t be allowed to kill me, even if it wanted to," Troy answered, stretching his back in a motion that would have sent him flying over if not for the extra bending of the knees. The man was not worried about jumping. That was good to know. Otherwise, Adam would have had a hard time within the next few minutes. ''What a¡­ unique way of thinking. I would have thought that you would be worried about the injury when you fell down some stairs painfully not that long ago,` Adam sent back. "You''re not the only one. But¡­ it seems we all get over it at some point, no matter how we think of it," Troy said, laughing a little at his own words. What was funny about it, the AI didn''t really understand. Perhaps an inside joke. "Anyways, are you getting ready to show off something cool yet?" Adam was, in fact, ready to show off his work. Most of it had been prepared beforehand, the AI highlighting the needed parts of nearby buildings as they moved up the stairs. If not, they could have been at the top for hours without anything truly significant. Even if there had been some extra features added into the interface so as to make the highlighting easier, it was still tedious to do. Though, the doctor might not have anticipated it to be used in such away. Macro-destruction was never what anybody would guess for Adam to do. And that was understandable. He was not one to cause needless destruction. He always had a goal in mind for his actions. Here, he was making Troy happy by destroying a replica of a city. He was causing destruction for the happiness of another. And it would be glorious. ''I am ready. I just need for you to position yourself in the right spot,` Adam sent, supplying his message with a detailed specification of location, direction, and motion. He had made it all fluid. Because they would be moving the camera that was Troy¡¯s eyes of course. What movie had a static camera throughout the entire film? With quick directions, Troy came to his intended spot. It was just a few meters away from the middle of the building, with his back against the staircase he had come up from. The man¡¯s pulse had been steadily increasing throughout the time they had spent up there, but it had truly begun to take off now. How curious it was, the anticipation of destruction more important for the brain than almost hanging off of an unquantifiable high building. "When does it start?" Troy asked for the third time in the same minute. Adam did not mind the excitement, but he had to get the timing right for it to be truly terrific. ''We will begin soon. This does give us time to refresh my instructions. What are they exactly?` "What is this, a questionnaire? Fine. You decided to be vague about all of this and only instructed me to follow your orders as they came, with little to no hesitation attached. Again, can I ask why this is?" ''A movie is best the first time it is viewed. You would not want me to spoil what happens before you see it for yourself, right? I am sure you can understand.` "Yes, yes, whatever. Just tell me when it starts," Troy answered, sounding way too hyped up for it all. The AI was literally able to feel the blood flow in the man¡¯s veins increase in pressure. Somehow, the body had begun expecting a fight to come. Adrenaline would soon come as well. Adam was beginning to feel that it was ready to unleash his masterwork. Not that everything would happen at once, of course. Before the pay-off, before the dessert that everybody craved, several dishes had to come first. And the first of the first was of course the appetizers. With a mental twist, the AI made the north-facing support pillars disappear on a nearby building. It took a few seconds before gravity took hold, but the rumbling destruction heard in the distance was akin to music. The deep bass could certainly be felt in Troy¡¯s heart and body, the travelled air making the building they stood on vibrate mildly. The sound did cause the man to try turning his head, but this was stopped. ''Don''t. You are to remain still until I say so, just like we agreed. Look forward. Not to the sides.` Troy did not answer but followed the requests nonetheless. Just in time for the main course. The appetizer might have been small, but the meal was certainly beginning to grow in size, Positioned around them was a circle of buildings. With the help of Adam knowing the ins and outs of the building design, he knew just what to remove for the building to fall in a certain direction. This allowed him to make them all fall towards the building Troy stood on. The appetizer might have been felt in the air, but the main-course was felt just about everywhere. The building under them shook from the countless impacts, nearly twenty buildings had fallen on it. If anybody had been on the lower floors, they would have been squashed into oblivion. This did not seem to be on Troy¡¯s mind, the man shouting in excitement. He had been forced to stretch his hands out to the sides, as the building was swaying to the sides by now. Given a minute or two, it would collapse. Adam did not want that long. ''Jump off the building,` Adam ordered Troy. The man moved a few meters forward, starting to run toward the edge, yet stopped quickly enough with a confused face. He looked uncertain as to if he couldn''t believe what the AI had said. Adam should have expected that. "W-what?" Could you repeat that?" Troy asked, stammering by the start. The man was clearly thrown out of the loop. The AI had hoped for that not to happen. Troy had looked so peaceful when thwarting death not two minutes ago, yet being told to do it made it all impossible? He should have known. ''Jump. Off. The. Building,` Adam said with all the patience he could muster. Each passing second was another second out of sync. The place they stood on would not hold alone for much longer, and the preset destruction would not be as wonderful if they waited any longer. "But¡­ but, that doesn''t-" ''Now!` Adam close to shouted at the man, not thinking it wise to wait any longer. He could recognize the shaking. Instincts seemed to take over, as Troy again ran for the edge. The swaying of the building made it easy to lose balance, but it somehow never posed a problem for the man. As he neared the end of the roof, Adam witnessed the very understandable action of closing one¡¯s eyes before jumping. They opened up very quickly after, as the man was close to diving headfirst downwards. Two seconds. That was what Adam had to work with. Before those seconds had even begun, the AI had already annihilated an entire floor off of the building they had been standing on. Gravity had only begun taking its toll when the last foot had left the roof. In those moments of peace, it had seemed as if Troy had not been moving at all, the man being able to see the same exact window in the building. That had not lasted long. Not because of the building reaching where the lower part of its structure remained. No, it was because of Troy¡¯s gradual slowing down in mid-air. "What the hell?" Troy spluttered, the man clearly able to feel the lack of air pushing against his face. "What is-" The man cut himself off, as the incredibly high building which had gained considerable momentum impacted against its lower half. While not enough to permanently damage the ears, Adam could feel the insides contracting from the sheer volumes protruding from the impact site. Together with the circle of building stacked up against it, Dust exploded out into the sides, gaining more ground from the lack of available space to move in at the start. It was like a pressure hose exploded, the inside going everywhere at once. And the two were able to see it all from the perfect view, able to see it all fall together like it was some action movie. Adam could feel and hear Troy gasp at the sight, a large grin on his face at the same time. Any confusion had been replaced in an instant. "This is awesome!" Troy shouted at nobody in particular. The man looked happier than Adam had ever seen him before, a feeling of childish gratitude around him. It was like a dream come true for him, so that was to be expected. ''Was it enjoyable?` Adam asked the man, as they floated away from the destruction at a steady pace. "It truly was the greatest thing I have ever seen," Troy said, tears almost making themselves present in the man¡¯s eyes. They were removed before they got too noticeable. "Thank you, Adam." Here he was, already being thanked. Now¡­ that could not be done. Dessert was still unfinished. ''We still have plenty of air time left. Seeing as we¡¯re floating towards another batch of buildings, would you like to see it all again from a new perspective.` "You bet your sweet ass I will!" They might not have been friends, but Adam could still find himself enjoying this. Even a lie could make somebody happy. Chapter 222: Caution
Like all things on the earth, nothing could truly escape the pull of gravity. While the automatic counter-measures might have allowed them to float along for a long time, Adam had always known they would reach the end of their journey. They had come far for sure. Building upon building had been seen, all in different states. As chance would have had it, they actually did change after a while. That would have been learned before, if the two had bothered to travel around a little before they began the long climb. They hadn''t, though. And that was okay. Adam had fun doing it. Floating around a near-infinite landscape, able to entertain another through nearly nothing else but a thought. Each building passed had not been left standing by the time they had gone by it. Troy would request some obscene way of destruction, and the AI would do his best to oblige. Adam''s favourite was still the domino effect that had been created one of the times. Slowly thinning the building so they could fall more easily, while also making sure that they would not fall apart, had been incredibly complex to pull off correctly. And the reaction the man had given from it was still reverberating in the AI¡¯s mind, a few of the threads had gone rogue to replay it from memory again and again. It might have been seen initially as an act of independence, yet it was closer to him just not wanting to admit how much he had enjoyed it. Again, it had to end at some point. By the momentum alone, it had been obvious that their journey would be much longer than could be seen. And the distance down was imperceptible to the human eye. That might have been something along the lines of the human brain not being able to judge distances after some point, but Adam did not worry about that. It was certainly long. It had taken close to thirty full minutes before they reached the ground. In that time, fun had been had, memories were made in plenty, and Adam had gotten just enough attached to the point where it was not healthy. ''I could try to propel you to a higher altitude if you want to try it again,` Adam offered as a kind gesture, not wanting to admit to his own faults. Yet, he was sure that the man had enjoyed it as well, with that smile on his face. It had been so energetic at the start, like a child getting to release all the pent up energy inside it. Now, it was closer to showing his actual age, the smile still there but remaining in a more relaxed manner. It was close to one showing off acceptance more than anything as if a burden had been taken off their shoulders. The body itself had relaxed through the journey as well. They had been shot after shot of adrenaline, the flesh getting ready to fight or run for its life. By the ten minute mark, the pulse had gone down, the blood pressure tweaking itself into an acceptable level, and all that shouting that the man had shown off had pumped down a level or two. That last one might have been from the sore throat gained after a while. Not everybody was built for that. "No thank you, Adam," Troy said, looking up at the fake sky. The mood laid out would have gained structure if the sun had begun getting down, but nearly everything about the up above was static. Even those fake clouds had not moved in the many hours spent in the test. Another detail the designers had not bothered to add in. "It was fun and all, but that right there is something that should only be done once in my life." ''Why? If it was enjoyable during the first exposure, logic would dictate that the second exposure would be of lesser enjoyment but still superior from the normal state,` Adam stated, not really understanding the logic. He had already given up on getting permission to go for a second round. Now, he just wanted to understand the man a little better. "And it would probably work like that," Troy amended, sounded like he was agreeing with the AI, but only just enough that he could instantly make a counter-argument for it after the fact¡­ Adam was getting good at reading him. "But, that second exposure is kinda going to ruin the first one. Right now, those twenty-something minutes in the air are some of the best moments of my life. I just got the live one of my childhood-dreams, for god''s sake! And trying that for a second time¡­ it wouldn''t feel the same. If I had to choose, I would rather have one good memory for the road, instead of having a lot of mediocre ones. What was it called again? Quality over quantity? Yeah, that works good enough. I''d rather have a bar of gold than a ton of dirt." Eerily good even. Adam had almost predicted it word for word. The pauses, the difficulty in choosing the right way of speech, to even just the pacing of the talking itself. If asked, the AI did not doubt his ability to act like Troy. He could fake his personality, he could fake his body, he could fake just about anything related to him. Yet¡­ that was a lie. He just hadn''t realised it yet. ''I understand. Please let Dr Fidelis know that I realize what the time is,` Adam sent, begin to reminisce once again. The AI had been worried about their time being cut in half, as the minutes allocated to the test had long ago been used up. Time had seemingly passed by without him realising it, and within a few minutes of travel, they should have been stopped from progressing. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. But they hadn''t. The doctor had not stopped them at all. He did not even message them about it all, as if he had missed the clock as well. That was improbable, honestly. There was not a single time where the doctor had missed the end by more than a minute, and even then he had been stressed about getting Troy out of the puzzle-room. With how much the doctor had been about the timing before, Adam had initially thought his inner clock to have just messed up somehow. But after several recounts, the AI was left to conclude that it was just an¡­ unstated elongation of testing-time. Legally, there was nothing allowing the doctor to do it, as Troy had been supposed to have gotten off the clock twenty minutes ago. There were questions about what would make the doctor do that, allowing them to just continue as if nothing happened. Adam couldn''t really find a good answer alone, even when thought hard about it. Maybe it was just done on a whim? He would find out soon enough. "Dr Fidelis!" Troy proclaimed loudly, loud enough that it likely caused the doctor to be surprised by the loudness. At least, that was how imagined the scene outside to be. Even if it wasn''t close to the truth, it was still humorous enough for him to keep around in the current stream. "Adam has apparently noticed your lack of contacting us. He seems to be done with everything, so you don''t need to delay our departure from this place any longer!" It did not take long before the familiar sound of screeching emanated from the earpiece, the high tones still loud enough to cause the young man to twitch a small bit. Adam still did not understand how technologically futuristic everything else could be, while the radio being used was not advanced enough to filter out dead static. Was the place they were in a natural barrier to anything too complicated? If so, why did it not impact the performance of the earpiece or the suit? Or maybe it was the connection itself that needed time to adjust, the sound only being made as a sort of technical sensor that needed to understand how it sounded when transmitted fully. Another question for another time. *Why did you have to say that, Troy. Do you know how many times just doubled the paperwork I needed to do? It''s by a lot! Exponential growth has nothing on the sheer rate of work that you''re putting on my shoulders,* Adam could hear Dr Fidelis almost shout through the earpiece. It sounded harsh, but the AI could hear that it was meant as something more playful than anything. A jab between friends even. Because the doctor considered Troy to be that. Was it the same thing in reverse? Did the man consider the doctor a friend? "Sorry, sir. You know how it is with orders. They have to be followed, no matter what I might think for myself," Troy answered back, sounding casual but also desperately excusing his own action so as to not let more anger come his way. An unusual tactic, but not one which was unexpected. The AI wondered if it was created through observation or adaption. *Ah, I understand you. When I order you to jump, you don''t ask me why. You ask how high,* Dr Fidelis said, the microphone picking up the small chuckles that the man made. The young man did not laugh outright in tandem but did respectfully smile at the joke. "I do believe there was something we had to do now, sir," Troy reminded the doctor, sounding like he was doing his best to not sound too arrogant in his speech. It did include turning the volume of his voice down a little. How weird it was. "Something about us needing to go out immediately?" *Of course you need to go out immediately!* Dr Fidelis proclaimed, sounding like he had catched onto the hook line and sinker. Troy had laid out a statement that would alleviate a small part of the paperwork, by making the doctor seem more frustrated by them not hurrying out the instant they needed to, as it made Adam and Troy partly responsible for the delay. A smart choice indeed, if not for the lack of an entrance anywhere around. It had seemingly not been made yet. *Move it, please!* Seemingly remember the lack of an exit, it opened up not that long away from the two. Mere meters actually. It stood on the road, seeming out of place by quite a factor. It was without a third dimension, it not having any depth to it when looked at from the sides. Not that that could be clearly seen now, of course. Adam would not have even known about it, if not for the fact that Troy had checked it out himself during their time inside the puzzle room. With a quick spree of steps, the exit was walked through, allowing the AI to see the outside of the testing room well and clear. It was like he remembered it, pristine to a fault with no dust to be seen. It was interesting, how clean they could let it all be. Did they have designated times when they would clear out to allow personnel to go through the place with a comb? No, it was likely robots instead. No way would a janitor be allowed into a room such as this. Dr Fidelis stood at the desk, seeming to be observing a rapidly changing, three-dimensional sphere. From what Adam could see, it functioned close to non-newtonian, every change made seeming to cause the object to be more resistant. Even the texture would change. What was this meant to be? From the patterns the doctor made, there was obviously a system to it. Perhaps it was based on where it would hit, wherein a certain circuit would be followed through after the fact. While it might have seemed confusing at first, Adam felt that he was beginning to understand just how it was meant to be understood, if only in the most basic form. One could not expect to comprehend a whole language during the time it took Troy to walk down the few steps down to the floor that the two doctors stood on. "I was wondering how long it would take before you decided to complain about the waiting time," Dr Fidelis said into the screen. Adam could only presume that the doctor was talking to Troy. The AI wondered why the man did not turn his head. Was this normal behaviour? "I felt no reason to. It was fun to try out. Don''t know if you could see that from your view," Troy said, that polite tone still there, even if it had disappeared from the doctor. "Your vitals were certainly of another calibre, jumping all over the place. Really, I would have thought that falling down the stairs would have caused you some fear of heights, yet you didn''t need much encouragement to jump off a damn building. What did-" "Sir," Dr Hale said, cutting into the doctor''s impending question. She sounded irritated for some reason. "We are over schedule already. I feel it would be best if Mr Maxwell changes into his regular attire, and vacates this room. We have papers to go through. Even more, now that we have had some¡­ discussion-based incidents." "Ah, right," Dr Fidelis said, not sounding too happy about the prospect of legal documents. Adam could understand that the AI having a shared hatred for repetitive tasks there were somehow essential yet promised no future promises of growth. "Troy, do get yourself changed. It''s way past your bedtime, or whatever you do in your free time. Just get yourself out of this room. Dr Hale and I need to pull out a few documents which we are legally bound to not show another living soul, and I would hate having to change your status in that regard." Huh. With that deadpan tone, Adam almost believed him. The doctor truly was a great actor. Chapter 223: Coction
Adam did not like curtains. This might have been due to a personal distaste for them, or maybe it was due to the symbolism behind them. The AI was not truly sure. And that was annoying. If there was one thing he still had it hard with, it would be all those pesky emotions floating around inside him. One would think that repeated exposure helped to adjust, to control, or even allow one to manipulate one¡¯s emotions for something useful. Adam certainly thought the concept possible in practice. Yet¡­ that had still not happened. Instead, he had been granted the privilege of his mind running in the wrong patterns, purely due to his emotions not corresponding to his needed mental state. Those curtains were a large part of the problem. It made him irritational in a way. There were no spouts of anger oozing out of him, or anything. His reaction to that coloured fabric wasn''t anything that. Again, it was hard to describe the emotion. That was about them, emotions never coming through in pure form. One did not feel angry without also feeling sad, a little shocked, and maybe a bit of happiness filled in. But, if he had to simplify the emotions felt in such a way that it would not be a full picture of his situation, the AI would call what he felt¡­ constant discomfort. It was not an emotion that would come around the same second he looked at the curtains. At that point, they would just be hanging pieces of fabric. There was nothing worrying about that, nothing that could make him feel like he did. It was only when he began thinking about the implications of the curtain, that those effects began to show themselves. Right now, Troy was behind a curtain, hiding everything else in the room from view. Adam could crudely guess what was on the other side, of course, even if he could not see it directly. Yet, could he really be sure that it was all like he remembered? That desk the screen sat on was not permanently fixed to the floor. It could have been moved. It could have been removed. Maybe it had been painted even. Adam could not know, not being able to look upon it himself. With a curtain, there was no way to look past it. The fabric would only show itself and nothing else. It was when the AI began those thoughts that he felt his discomfort. Was it the information, so close yet so far away from him, that made the emotions spur on as they did? Was it the curtain itself? Was Adam not able to feel comfortable by the simple fact that it hid something from him? He could make all those theories, set up all those graphs, but he could not find out. He felt uncomfortable when he looked at a curtain, and that was that. It was a symptom with multiple potential causes. He could not include any of the possibilities without being irrational, yet the act of not knowing exactly what was happening was making the AI feel uncertain. Adam¡¯s foundation was built on fact, yet uncertainties such as these were in plenty. It made him feel¡­ angry. Angry that he couldn''t hold himself up to the values he had set for himself since the start. They were supposed to be his drive forever, yet here he was, already breaking them within a week. He had made them help him for centuries, but he had failed them before even getting a chance to prove his worth. Did that make him a failure? Maybe. He was not sure. "... are you sure that a little bit of talking wouldn''t be okay?" Dr Fidelis asked what Adam could only presume to be Dr Hale, the doctor being outside of what the AI could see. From the sound, the AI guessed the man to still be located at the desk, doing whatever work he had been doing previously. "I mean, a few minutes of delaying the paperwork would not hurt anybody. It''s not like either of us can expect to sleep more than four hours already! Having a little small-talk to set the mood would-" "Sir, we both know that I have no power over what you do. I can only give my personal and professional advice, and nothing more can be done. It is all in your hands," Dr Hale said, cutting into the doctors well-formulated argumentation. Adam was certainly following along perfectly and had been wondering what other forms of reasons would have been made. He was certain it would have been grand indeed, yet the other doctor had decided to cut it short. This was not appreciated, but it was again not something that the AI had any meaningful power over. "While I might say that any talking done here and now will take significantly more time than you can predict, you can choose to ignore my warnings and not take heed for the lesser amount of time we will get to rest. Again, while you might have been accustomed to not sleeping for days at a time, I personally am of the mind to at least get five hours daily." Adam did still wonder how Dr Fidelis was able to do that. Not sleeping for several days at a time, that is. While he might not have been able to observe the inner workings of bodies being awake for prolonged periods of time, the AI had been able to see the accumulated damages that can come from just walking around in a single day. Sleep was meant to be a time where the body could fix itself, without having to worry about any ongoing movement while it was happening. The exhaustion put on the brain, the body, and the mind was extreme. Adam could clearly feel the difference between a body that had been awake for one hour and one that had been awake for twelve. What exactly happened to the doctor after the first twenty-four? Did he even feel tired? The AI had not ever been able to find the doctor expressing that particular emotion. The man had always seemed cheerful, even if he had been shouting a little at Troy. It just didn''t match the erratic mood-swings which were supposed to be occurring after several hours over the regular sleeping time. Adapting for a smaller amount of continuous sleep was certainly possible, but that couldn''t possibly work on such a minimal length, right? Only once had Adam ever gotten a hint of the doctor being asleep. Skipping the cycle for such a long time should have left a clear imprint, yet that man looked as energetic as always. Did he take any biological enhancers as well? Caffeine was supposed to grant some amount of extra time spent awake, yet that did have some more considerable effects as well. Shaking, headaches, even stronger mood swings, and a few more minor muscle twitches. Again, this was not hinted at in any way. While it might have been a simple question at first, it was becoming clear that Adam would have to ask about this. A lot of those questions were forming as of late. Was he becoming more curious or was he becoming less analytical? Something to wonder about during some other time. Right now, something much more interesting was occurring. "That sounds like a yes to me," Dr Fidelis surmised, weirdly ignoring those last warnings about Dr Hale wanting to look for her own physical health. Had the doctor not heard that? It could have been that the man just ignored that last part, the confirmation of his question being more than enough for his mind. Adam sometimes did that, only processing the information a few minutes after the fact. Though, he was not sure how exactly that worked with human minds. Did they get to remember it all even if they didn''t process it instantly? From the lack of the doctor acknowledging it even after several seconds, the AI was forced to think that to be the case. Truly a saddening existence. Multi-tasking was just too hard for some entities. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it "Troy! Are you almost done in there? You are taking a remarkable amount of time changing clothes. Did I forget to release the skin suit again?" Dr Fidelis shouted. "I''m alright, thanks," Troy shouted back. Adam could not understand why they were even shouting. There were less than five meters between them. Speaking plainly would be easy enough. Was it just a weird instinct put on pressure due to them both being out of each other¡¯s eyes? With the other faults in those minds of theirs, the AI would not doubt it. "Just making sure there is no damage to the suit when I take it off. This suit is expensive after all!" "It''s not expensive enough for you to take so much time," Dr Fidelis shouted back, lowering his voice a little by the end. The doctor might just have noticed his own loudness. Good for him, overcoming his species¡¯ faults. "And the suit will not be damaged, no matter what you do. Trust me on that. I paid double to make sure you could cut it no matter what you did. A knife weighing a literal tone wouldn''t be able to cut through it. Honestly, you fell down a row of stairs in it. If it didn''t get damaged then, don''t expect it to when you''re just taking it off. Now, hurry, please. I don''t like talking to a curtain instead of a face, you know." "... yes, sir. I understand," Troy answered before falling silent. The young man sounded sheepish about it all, yet Adam knew that he was faking all of it. Why exactly was he doing that? Well, the suit had actually gotten off within the first ten seconds of Troy getting behind the curtain. In all the time after that, the man had been studying his shoulder. On it was a very striking bandage. From what Adam could see, it was in pristine condition, not a smudge of wear on it. There were no bloodstains and nothing like it. Some small bruising was halfway down to the elbow, though. That was likely just from an earlier fall, however, so the AI decided to ignore that. Troy, not being as logical as Adam, did not ignore this bruising, however. If anything, it made the man more than a little anxiety-driven. The arm itself was scanned meticulously by the man''s eyes again and again. By the second look-through, Adam could confidently say that nothing was wrong at all. The man did not seem confident about this however and just had to look through another seven times, somehow taking longer with each repetition. Honestly, if the body parts close to the arms were next, the AI would be worried about the man getting out before the day would break. Mutterings could be heard coming out of the man¡¯s mouth, yet even Adam could not decipher what they meant. And he had access to the tongue movements themselves, including a whole library containing every single tongue movement that had ever been observed plus detailed analysis of what each of them meant. Pure nonsense had been coming out. "Honestly, did you fall or something in there? It''s nothing to be ashamed about, Troy. You just have to say if you need me to get Dr Hale over there to get your pants on correctly," Dr Fidelis said again, pushing the young man to hurry up. "If that action was needed, I believe you would be the best candidate for it, sir. The younger generation is very picky about physical touch," Dr Hale said. "Ah, right of course," Dr Fidelis answered back as if that made any sense at all. What did the generation born have to do with anything? "If you have fallen and you can''t get up, I guess I can go over and help you put your pants on." Those comments seemingly made Troy hurry up his hanging, hurriedly putting on his shirt and pants. Perhaps the two doctors were on to something, the man seeming weirdly focused on not seeming not fully clothed. The skin was a weirdly sensitive topic with humans. Everybody had it, yet letting other people know they had it as well was looked at as a great sin. That was how it was described in the database, at least. Adam had just put it under one of the facts of reality that he couldn''t figure out but would heed nonetheless. "I''m done!" Troy nearly shouted, as the man hurriedly removed the curtain, fully clothed and all. Though, the suit worn before had been thrown haphazardly in the corner. The AI hoped that wasn''t a regular procedure. It might have been able to survive the abuse, but it was still meant to be looked on with care. "You wanted to talk?" "You put on your shirt backwards, buddy," Dr Fidelis stated, pointing a finger at the young man''s chest. This did cause Troy to look down and say a¡­ unwarranted swear-word. "I can just go back quickly and-" Troy began to say, but was cut off by the doctor. "No need for that," Dr Fidelis stated, waving away any worries with his hand. "I have seen worse fashion designs, and yours isn''t in my top twenty." "Good to know," Troy answered. The young man seemed more relaxed. "If Dr Hale is to be believed, this is supposed to be quick. What did you want to talk about again?" "Oh, don''t put so much pressure on her wording. She can be overly serious at times," Dr Fidelis said back, laughing at his own sense of humour. Troy politely laughed along with it, while warily glancing over to the aforementioned doctor. She only stared back, not betraying how annoyed she was. Adam did notice, however. The hands were a clear sign of frustration. "We can take as long as we want! Not that we should, since I do have work to do, but don''t feel pressured to answer concisely. Any details are good details" Troy just nodded, not answering verbally. Meanwhile, Adam was growing curious about what they were going to be talking about. The doctor was still not looking over at them. It was beginning to seem impolite, with how much the man just continued his work¡­ or whatever those shapes were supposed to mean. An alternative way of seeing his motions was that of a more linear way of writing reports, but that was still not proven as a valid concept. The different movements to distinguish which words to write were not fully figured out, but he was sure more observation time would allow him to figure it out. And that was what he was getting now, those two sounding like they would be having a long conversation. That impoliteness might actually benefit Adam. How strange a way to think. "During the testing, were you always focused on the goal, Troy?" Dr Fidelis asked. "What do you mean?" "Like¡­ did you constantly make sure that the actions you were doing were that of a guide? Were you thinking about it as a way to mentor Adam into making the best possible decisions? It''s okay if you weren''t. I''m just curious about it." This¡­ was this something the AI should be hearing? This was sounding like a debriefing of sorts, camouflaged as regular small-talk. Those were supposed to be personal, only for the doctor and the one being debriefed. Wasn''t Adam being unlawful by listening in? It certainly seemed so. Yet, curiosity overpowered any other emotion out there. He continued to listen. "I guess I did, then. I didn''t expect Adam to actually say yes to me wanting to see the buildings falling down, honestly. It didn''t really sound like something to spend an entire test doing." "I can understand," Dr Fidelis answered, wobbling his head to the sides a little. "Though, that sounds like you don''t really have that great of an idea what he is thinking. Do you¡­ think that I''m right about that?" "I-I guess? I haven''t really been able to figure out what Adam has been thinking as of late. Is that bad?" "Depends on how you look at it. But, I think I have figured out the reason for your lacking performance. Again, not a bad thing. We can''t expect you to know everything there is to know about another being. It''s just that¡­ have you and Adam been-" The feed cut out. Adam knew exactly why that was. The hurried footsteps in the background had been obvious. And the tip of a fingernail had briefly touched the ear. Dr Hale had pulled out the earpiece, the one line that allowed the AI to listen in. Just what had Dr Fidelis been about to say? Chapter 224: Diction
"It might just be my eyes getting worse with age, but are you¡­ lifting lighter weights today? You know, the general idea about this is that you go up instead of down." "Oh, shut up, will you?" Troy quipped back, the young man trying his best. It was not easy for everyone. Especially not when they had been involved in testing worth thousands of calories while also providing more than enough engagement for almost every muscle in his body. "Work is hard on both body and soul. Especially the body." "What kind of paperwork could possibly tire out your muscles?" Charlie asked curiously, the muscular man not stopping once in his own routine. As talking had been a normal activity for them to do while in the gym, the two had coordinated on what they did when. This was especially easy to do, as Troy had wisely decided to throw all that coordination-trouble over at the oldest in their army of two. He might have been able to name many different parts of the body, yet that did not mean he could use those names for anything. Density, uses, and just the general location was way out of reach for him. He knew where biceps were, and that''s enough for him. Might have been better to not know, as he damned them to the end of the earth mentally. Those bastards were not letting him get one repetition with his usual weights. Nor did they budge with one kilo under. Or two. Three did cause some movement, but it tired him out too quickly. Truly, Troy could only laugh at Charlie¡¯s question, both out of the sheer stupidity of it and from how much trouble he would be in if he gave any hint about the truth. As was clear by now, the official people working in the facility were not the ones doing tests in the same way as him. They would normally be behind a glass screen for protection, not physically moving around. That was for¡­ the more disposable ones. Charlie could possibly guess that the man was doing something like that, though. His gaze could not be fooled, all those utility implants of his doing more trouble than they should on the situation. Maybe it was a good thing that Charlie was not making it clear that he could see how much damage there was. That would just cause another bout of awkwardness. "I¡¯ll tell you when you get a high enough clearance," Troy said, playing it all off as a joke only understood between friends. And that was kinda true since the young man was alluding to an extremely illegal event that had transpired earlier in the same day. Grabbing a pair of dumbells another kilo down, the young man got back to work on testing his arms. They were feeling quite weak, even when he wasn''t putting additional pressure on them. But, that was to be expected, with how much work they had been put to use. Dr Hale might have been faking all that resentment for him, but that did certainly not mean she wasn''t a slave driver normally. How that woman could be faster than him when setting it all up was a question that would be unanswered for millennia. Well, it was probably her own augmentations helping her along, but who could be sure about that? That woman was a beast of her own class, in both physical and mental aspects. "Hey, that''s not fair!" Charlie whined, playing it up for a joke. "We both know that I am never getting up to the same levels as you. You do realise that all the extra papers you have to sign are purely due to your level, right? I have it easy compared to you, and I will never be letting go of that privilege. Though, that boss of yours might have other ideas. Quite a funny fellow he was." A funny fellow. Troy would have lied at that if there wasn''t a chance of the aforementioned funny fellow getting offended by his reaction. That was the funniest thing about him, after all. He was always watching, always studying Troy. If he reacted to the wrong thing in the wrong way, there was a great chance he would get executed within the day, without ever knowing that he had been found out. How fun it all was, the pressure being nearly unbearable! Smile and wave, or else the funny man would get him. "I think the word you are looking for is ''eccentric,`" Troy corrected Charlie, trying to downplay the situation without having an abnormal reaction to it in any way. Being polite about shit-talking one¡¯s superior was a normal procedure of course. Those above were always listening in one way or another. "He knows what he can do, and he can certainly do it well. And he is also very serious about keeping his occupation hidden." "Yeah, yeah. I know I screwed up a little. But, who can blame me? It all came from the heart," Charlie responded, somehow being so serious while still sounding like it was all a long-running joke of a conversation. Couple that with those unstable movements of weights being lifted into the air, and the man truly did look like a monster. The shoulders were still being warmed up for higher weights, but that did not mean the current limit wasn''t impressive in and of itself. From the numbers on it, the man was already lifting more than Troy weighed. However, was that even a good standard anymore. While he had always been a bit on the skinny side, the young man was practically dropping down massively over the last few days. It was at least a kilo or three. While it wasn''t on the level of being able to see his own ribs, it was still on the level where he was beginning to question just how good it all was for him. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. When having asked Charlie about it, the man had assured him that it was all within what had been seen before. It seemed that those biological enhancers that he had taken while visiting the gym for the first time were still putting their effects on him. One of the functions was apparently to replace fat tissue with muscles. If one had a lot of one of them, it would be switched over slowly within a few days. When coupled with Troy¡¯s less-than-extraordinary eating habits as of late, the body had not been able to really produce that desired muscle tissue. So while still breaking down the fat, nothing had been built up to replace it. Therefore, a good chunk of his weight had been drained out, leaving him skinnier than ever before. That did explain the cold waves he had been getting as of late. His clothes had not done their job of stopping it yet, but he trusted that they would begin adapting for it soon. Going back to the current topic, though, it was clear that the muscular man understood just how much trouble he could have been in. That had been thought of before, and that had only been with Troy¡¯s less-than-satisfactory understanding of the facility¡¯s inner politics. Charlie could have possibly been executed for his trespassing. It was not a sentence that would have been sent out lightly, but it was not something completely out of the picture either. Likewise, the man could have been given a special clearance for the project, forcing him into looking around for any areas where he could provide assistance. This was possibly an even lower ranking in possible outcomes, but it was still valid. "Mind indulging me in just what that heart of yours thought would happen?" Troy asked, continuing their little charade. Meanwhile, the lower weights seemed to have helped the young man in actually getting progress done on his routine. While it might have been laughable weights being lifted, it was more than enough for his arms to threaten him mentally. By the tenth repetition, they were more than ready for the given rest period. Troy likewise needed one at that point, never having felt more tired inside. Forcing already used muscles to work like normal was the expectations of an idiot, and that was exactly what the man was expecting out of them. "I feel like I need some explanation put in here." "We all need an explanation for everything," Charlie agreed with a nod, putting down the weights for once in their conversations. Troy liked to think it was because of the talking, but he fully understood that the man was just mirroring his break-times. "But, we can''t get it all of the time. For the heart does what the heart wants to do. Our puny minds will never be able to understand the magnificence, the transcendence, the extremism that is-" "So it was a spur-of-the-moment decision?" "Ah, I see you understand perfectly," Charlie said, confirming the suspicions that Troy had had from the start. While the man might have played dumb for a lot of the time spent with him, everybody close to him knew about the clarity that was behind those eyes. They normally understood everything around them, being able to divide one block into two for an infinite amount of times until the root of all problems were figured out. Yet that ability had been lost as of late when Troy had handed the man an impossible situation. Charlie had been tricked into thinking the wrong thing, had been made to set himself entirely false foundations. This had caused so much confusion, so much new ground threaded. And the muscular man had clearly been out of his comfort zone when he had noticed that Troy had not come when he promised to. What would anybody else have done, when they began to suspect the demise of one of their friends. Would they stay put, enjoy their lunch, and see if they turn up later in the day? Possibly. That would be the general mentality of many. There was always the chance of it being a misunderstanding, after all. However, when a mind had already been put in a state of disarray, calm thoughts had already been put out of the equation. There was no such thing as waiting for the problem to solve itself. Critical thinking was out of the mind when emergency situations came along. If Troy had not appeared, then it would clearly mean that he had been stopped in some way. Charlie had not been sure why this was and had gone out to search. The possibility of death had been on the man¡¯s mind for so long, that the effects had been clear the moment he got close to the hidden door. At that point, the calm mind would have stopped him from revealing his knowledge about a secured project, meant only for the tightest of mouths. Again, a calm mind had not been there at that time. The move-in had been swift, and without a code to punch into the hidden Numpad, Charlie had just started banging on the entrance, as if that would help with anything. Troy could not have guessed how it would have been during that time. That mindless banging had continued for nearly two minutes. It would have continued for several more, if not for the insiders¡¯ decision to put a stop to it. Without any discussion, Troy was decided to be the one to bring Charlie inside. And that might just have been the best discussion anybody could have ever made. If Dr Hale had come out instead, that look of calm fury on her face, would he have assumed the worst? It might have been so. Instead, the face of the young man had been the first thing shown once the door opened up, revealed to be good and well. Charlie had been able to compose himself quickly by that point, still needing several seconds to get back into his normal mentality. Being shown that the one he had worried about was alive and well had likely been one of the best things to ever happen. Again, Troy was not able to even imagine it, not for a lack of trying. Charlie had been lucky after that, being able to play it all off as a mild caring for a coworker. If it had been done in any other way, if there had been any other excuse, Dr Fidelis might just have decided to take it seriously. Was the excuse used even true? Troy had been wondering about that for some time now. It was certainly a plausible excuse, the man being bored with his work and just deciding to do nothing productive for several hours at a time. Yet, would he not have decided to visit some of his friends instead? The young man might have been wrong to imagine that, yet he had always thought of the man to be an extrovert, feeding off of others to gain energy. Since the man had mentioned the clear lack of anything around that part of the facility, why had he been there to start with? Troy wanted to ask about that. It was a personal curiosity. But, it was not something that would ever be asked. Asking too much about the subject, being anything more than extremely vague about it, or even just focusing on it too much had the potential to bring them doom. If Charlie truly did have other methods of knowing where the project was located, Dr Fidelis knowing of that fact could change the man¡¯s decisions for the worse. A warning could turn into something that nobody wanted to think about. "I figured it would be something like that," Troy answered, shaking his head a little at the sheer incredulity of the man''s words. He did not ask into it. So, when the time was up, he just hefted his arms back into position and worked on another round of torturing his biceps. They were there for a reason after, and just sitting around doing nothing would not be good for anything. ¡­ Troy did find some irony in that. Chapter 225: Duction
Was it wrong to sometimes enjoy the small things in life? The answer to that depended on the person, really. Some would say that it was a waste of time, that it did nothing for the future, that he should just work for his career instead. Troy did enjoy the small parts, for he had nothing else to enjoy. Or, did not use to have, would be better phrasing for that. Back when he was younger, there weren''t many different activities for him. Through trial and error, he had been forced to find different things to make the time pass faster. Sitting on a bench staring into the air while thinking of nothing was not a preferable method of using one¡¯s time. But, that was all the resources he had had on hand back in those days. It had only been when he had begun dumpster diving that it got really fun. No matter how advanced a society became, there would always be dumpsters. Products were never made to be consumed fully. There would always be some form of waste-material, no matter how well-made the rest of it all was. And sometimes, just sometimes, something would get thrown in with that waste. Troy never understood why anybody would throw anything out. Everything had some amount of value, and it could always be resold. Yet people did not seem to bother with stuff like that most of the time, just throwing it all down a chute where it would land it a collective pile of trash. In the inner city where his school used to be, one of these massive trash deposits sat. It was hard to find, of course, never meant to be seen by the public. Yet he did find it. If not, those memories would never have been made. Troy could not really remember what made him dive into it in the first place. Maybe it was an act of rebellion, his mother going on and on how she did not want to see him being dirty. There was a chance of that being it. However, it was most certainly not the reason he continued doing it. It was during that first dive that he found something. It was a new magazine, only dirtied by the garbage that it laid by. He couldn''t remember the title of it for the life of him. It was something about some tower. But Troy could certainly remember the contents. It was a magazine about linguistics, bringing on the newest research while also providing look-backs on the older genius in the field. Oh, how he could reminisce about those days, sitting in a pile of trash while reading that magazine. Troy had actually tried to get a subscription to it when he had first gotten knowledge of it. The subject had been fun for him, and it had made him want to know more. However, being a young child without any dependable source of money was a hard reality for him. That had been core behind why he did it, wanting that magazine again and again. It came out once every two weeks, yet Troy was forced to look for it constantly. Whoever had the actual subscription had been slow in reading it, taking between one and five days to go through it before throwing it out. Since the garbage was emptied every day, he had been forced to go through it constantly, if not just having to accept that he missed out on it. Sometimes he would never get it, just looking through the dumpster every day until the new release was sent through. Troy did not mind too much, just wanting something out of it. The act of searching through the trash, finding that magazine, and then reading it for hours on end had become a pastime for him through a large part of his schooling. Again, he did not gain incredibly much from it all. He might have learned some systems of language-detection, a few insights into the development of languages, and just a general idea of linguistics itself, yet that did almost nothing for his schooling. Nobody really cared if he knew a few words nobody else had heard of. It was a pastime through and through, nothing gained for the future. He only lost valuable time that could have been used for so many other things, making him a wasteful child who could not understand the real world. Or, so had the words been spat out by somebody that Troy felt unhappy about ever getting to know. He had not really cared what others had thought of it back then. It had been a fun time for him. And, there was never a moment during it that he had regretted. There might have been times where he was angry or sad, but those emotions flew away when he got himself some small amount of success in his hunts. Those magazines did stop coming around after a year or so. Troy never did get an explanation for why this was. Maybe the one buying it lost interest in the magazine, maybe the realised how stupid it was to throw them away, or maybe they just moved away from the city. He would never know. And that was honestly fine with him. At that point, he had already found another source to get it from, having acquired a small book about the subject. Those might have been gotten through questionable means, but that part was really thought about. Adventures with his uncle were not a part of his childhood that he liked to remember. Not that he ever needed to. Troy was always able to distract himself if the need called for it. Pastimes were not always for making time pass faster. For him at least, it was to distract himself from being bored. For when the mind was bored, it would do anything it possibly could to stop that. Thinking back to the past was the common tether. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. There were many things to do, even if he did not have a magazine to call his own. The training was one of them, as it allowed him something to do in his free time. Or, it could be a conversation with Adam, if that was still something that Dr Hale let him do. It wasn''t, unfortunately. Yet, that did not matter, as there were many others as well. As one example more, there was- "Almost freezing my balls off over here," Charlie commented out of the blue, stopping the relaxed silence between the two that had been at a constant those last minute. "How about you?" "Why would you start a conversation with that?" Troy said, completely ignoring everything else said by that muscular man. "What could possibly make you think that one-liner was a good idea?" Here they were, comfortably relaxing after a good hour of beating their muscles into a pulp. Troy had been having a grand old time, just leaning back a little as the ice-box he was standing it its work perfectly. He might have had criticism about it before, yet the effects became more obvious when he got the time to really feel it. All the tension that had been slowly building itself up over the day could be felt diapering by the moment. Even his legs felt semi-normal. And he would have enjoyed them getting completely back to normal, if not for a certain somebody deciding to ruin that atmosphere by talking about his private parts. "Hey, I''m just stating some straight facts over here," Charlie defended, only able to turn his head over at him instead of the body. The thing with the therapy chambers was that they did not allow much space to move around. Troy did have it easier with his smaller body, but the muscular man did not have the same luxury. Touching the surface area of the inside directly was never a good idea, and Charlie was making sure that it wasn''t happening to him. A wise choice, even if it did make him look a little silly. Troy was at least able to turn his body slightly so that the position wasn''t too awkward to keep. "It''s extremely cold here. You must have noticed that!" "It''s supposed to be cold, you stale piece of toast," Troy fired back, not believing what he was hearing. "You have been using these things for years. How are you first noticing the temperature of these things now?" "As a matter of fact, I have noticed that before," Charlie said proudly as if that was something anybody should have felt proud of. It was more just the standard of things. It was well and good if they were able to feel the temperature, and extremely worrying if they weren''t able to. There was no in-between with that. "I was just testing you." "... Are you bored?" Troy asked, suspicious of the man. "Why would you ask that?" Charlie said, not answering the question stated. Suspicions arose even more. "Just answer the question. Are. You. Bored," Troy stated, slowly repeating himself to make sure that the man understood perfectly what was being asked of him. The young man did not want a sudden change in the subject, nor was there to be any sudden intrusions made. "... A little," Charlie confessed. "I knew it!" "Why is that even important for you to know?" Charlie asked back, sounding more accusatory than anything, firing along with anything that could come on the man''s thoughts. "I understand your confusion," Troy said, doing his best to sound like the smart-ass constantly hiding inside him. It was rare for him to be an absolute prick without repercussions, and he would damn well use it to his fullest when he got the chance. "It''s not something somebody who¡¯s not a master at deduction would be able to figure out." "You''re going with that? Okay. Pleasure, do continue," Charlie answered, looking like he was just interested in how Troy was going to spill it all out. And the man would get what was coming to him because the young man would do his damn best at it. He had been practising in his off time! "Last time we were in this position, we spent the entirety chatting gleefully about a variety of interesting subjects. We had fun and the time just flew by like it was never there, to begin with," Troy began it off, Charlie nodding along as if he needed to understand it. "This time, however, we have spent our time in silence, just enjoying the sensation of our bodies getting to destress themselves after a long time spent working out. This has caused you to be bored. But, and this is a very big but indeed, what do you normally do when I am not here? Do you have another person to chat up? While possible every few times, I do doubt that you had anybody here consistently. This must mean that you had some way to entertain yourself while stuck in these damned freezers. So in conclusion, where the hell are you hiding the tv-screen?" A TV. That was the only solution to how the man could possibly withstand doing nothing for ten minutes while being extremely cold. Or¡­ maybe Troy¡¯s guess was slightly biased, the young man just having an extreme craving for digital entertainment options. Charlie unceasingly laughing in his general direction was pointing towards that being the case. "You seriously thought that was it?" Charlie asked incredulously, not even trying to hide how absolutely stupid he found Troy to currently be. No offence was really taken, as it was understood why that might have been the case. "Honestly, you got the first few parts right, but how did you come to the idea that I just have a TV lying around somewhere to exclusively use for after fitness." "Well, what do you use to distract yourself then?" Troy challenged, still wanting to know just how man survived all those years. "There has to be something, right?" "Oh, there most definitely is," Charlie agreed, that big, wide, and dumb smile on his face, as if it just needed to be there to torment the young man for all of eternity. Troy was sure to have dreams about cracking a few teeth in soon. "But¡­ I feel like not telling you will be more fun." Like pure magic, the clock above them rang out. They had spent their allotted time inside the machines and would need to step out into the normal air. The young man positively hated this messaged, having been too distracted to really feel the effects given to his limbs. Maybe next time it would be better. The two momentarily paused in their jabbing, as the machines opened up for them to walk out of. A few seconds were spent getting their regular clothing back on. An unmentioned positive of the freezer was the cleaning of the body. While it did not do much for the hair, Troy just did it later. Being able to go away from the sweaty clothing was positive in itself. "The reason for why you brought up TV," Charlie began, the muscular man finally getting himself in his regular attire. Just like Troy¡¯s own hair, the hair was still a bit stuffy, not having been properly. The two could each feel empathetic for their shared troubles in both mind and spirit. "If I am to guess, have you had some lacking entertainment options? Like, have you been given accommodation for getting the entertainment packages yet?" "Accommodation for what now?" Troy asked, needing a repeat to be sure that he wasn''t severely misunderstanding what was being said. "I¡¯ll take that as a no," Charlie said. "Well, since you are clearly starved of modern television, do you wanna have a movie night? I don''t have anything else on the schedule, and I really do doubt that anything will be popping up." "... Sounds fun," Troy answered after very little internal deliberation. "Doesn''t sound like anything that can go wrong." Troy felt weirdly relaxed about the fact that he was going to eat those words whole. Chapter 226: Emotion
Troy had to eat his words whole. ''Doesn''t sound like anything that can go wrong.` Damn, he could be stupid sometimes. Honestly, there could have been some better choices made. Was this how the young man looked to other people? If so, he could fully understand the reasons he had been shunned by so many. Because damn, how much more could one drop in intelligence? Movie-nights were supposed to be a relaxing event, right? It was the where two or more people would bungle up in whatever comfortable wear they could find, strap themselves into the nearest couch, and proceed to watch the entirety of whatever show or movie they desired. The lengths of these nights could vary, with some only lasting one movie, while others came close to lasting entire movie-sagas. The true length of them didn''t usually matter much for the participants, however. Most of the time, as long as the movie wasn''t something that made everybody uncomfortable to their core, nothing would ever be criticised about it. The truly important factor of movie-nights was the atmosphere was what it was intended to be. And what was that? Well, a good start would be an air of cosiness and warmth, as if everybody was in enough blankets that it could be called a literal cocoon. One needed to be able to let go of all the worries and stress that came with day-to-day life, the safety of the blankets letting one enjoy whatever the hell happened in front of one¡¯s eyes. In total, it just needed to be a good environment, a good friend or seven besides one another, and just a movie to play in the background as everybody just enjoyed not having to deal with anything else. While Troy might not have ever been to a movie-night himself, that was the general theme that most of them apparently tried to go by. It had seemed like a dream come true when he was actually invited to one. Granted, there was perhaps a lack of an inviting atmosphere, what with the sterile environment needing to be upheld at all costs. But that was fine, the young man just being happy that he got to experience it for himself. Because who wouldn''t? A get together with friends was always something to be happy about. Even if it was just the two of them, it would still be fun. Troy had only really been to two large get-togethers with the whole group twice. From how things were going, there wasn''t the largest expectation of him getting to try it again, so trying something akin to it was pretty decent. Again, this was only from the expectation that it would be like he had imagined. Troy had just thought that they would be getting themselves a sofa from god-knew-where, placed it down close to some TV that Charlie suspiciously had lying around, where they would then finally cover themselves up with an unimaginable amount of blankets, before beginning whatever marathon one would prefer. It was expected to be a cosy atmosphere, a cosy sofa, and a cosy film to seal things with. As one would have it, two of the three expectations were upheld. Some would call that a success, as the rate had been over fifty per cent. Some people were also stupid and did not understand that one third being wrong made all the difference in the world. Troy screamed aloud as yet another scare jumped up on the screen. Charlie was just straight out laughing, yet again not hiding his amusement at the expense of another human being. This time, it was a human being so frightened that the multiple pillows stacked as walls and roof for protection did nothing against the imaginary monsters around them. The muscular man, who was also a right prick in the side, had a very concentrated liking towards movies. Said in more understandable wording, Charlie only had slasher movies, for whatever god-forsaken reason. The man had a whole shelf for the bastards, each casing showing off indie-films that were ready to scare the living daylights out of everybody watching. Except for the man himself, of course. He just laughed each time something scary came on. "You are a demon!" Troy screeched, putting the blankets a little tighter, as the monster began to creep a little closer. It was still in the background of the shot, blurry so as to not be fully obvious to the audience, but he knew that it would strike again soon. The friends of the protagonist had already fallen, one by one, through the movie, and it was becoming clear just what kind of ending it was going to have. "A demon on the twelfth floor!" "And don''t you love it!" Charlie shouted while slapping Troy¡¯s cobbled together pillow fortress. The young man did wonder why the man had so many of them, but thoughts such as those were far removed when the movement began anew on the screen. The lights had begun flickering, and the monster was slowly going in for the kill. The constant flickering made it hard to see where it was, making the young man turn his eyes constantly so as to know precisely where it was. He knew it was exactly what the movie intended to happen, but he just couldn''t stop. He was in the palm of their hand, and he could do nothing about it. Troy could do nothing but stare vividly, as it came down from above. It had been out of the frame the entire time, not able to be seen before the end. There had been so many things in motion, pushed along by the wind. Yet, they had all been red herrings so as to allude to the final truth. The true monster was never seen until the end. A final scream came from the tired throat, as the movie ended. Troy was fully scarred for life, his mind not yet able to understand why anybody enjoyed the horror genre. He had never touched on it much himself, feeling disgusted by seeing some of the costumes for the monsters, the most popular trope in the last decade. The slime, the teeth, oh god, the abundance of eyes, and just how inhuman it all looked was more than enough to cause no small amount of wrong feelings in the stomach. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The one they had watched had been a twist of the general tropes. It was an alien ship hopping into a ruined city. The news would cover it as a meteor. A group of people would have seen it land, and decide to get rich by getting to it before anybody else, while not knowing just was waiting for them near it. It had been a surprisingly nice visual set since the movie was an indie-production. Troy would have wondered how they made it all so real, if not for his mind still being frightened by the monster when he thought about the thing. There was a point where the monster had enough eyes. Troy knew that. Everybody knew that. Somehow though, the designers of the movie did not know that. The legs, the arms, the body, the head, and whatever other parts were used to describe human body parts had at least a dozen eyes on them each. The sheer horror the young man first felt, when he had gotten a POV of all the viewable eyes honing in on him was still giving him shaking. And, and, he was pretty sure the number of eyes grew with time. One of the side-charters had a trait where they had one of their eyes tattooed. After her death scene, Troy was almost certain he saw a similar-looking tattoo on one of those eyes. He hadn''t made Charlie pause the movie back then, as the man had refused to do so at any point through the viewing experience, so the theory had yet to be confirmed. Though, that did not mean Troy had any inkling towards wanting to rewatch any of it ever again. He had tried it fully, and there was no way to describe it with positive words. "That was a good one," Charlie happily said, as the man got up from his spot to remove the film from the TV. Troy did not understand why he had the physical copies in the first place, as they could have easily been stored online. Yet, he did not care enough to question it, his body still ready to be ambushed by a mass of headless eyes. That movie had given him a newfound fear of heterochromia. He might just have been the first. "A personal favourite, actually. Though, nothing can come close to the classics." "Is that what you call good?" Troy stutteringly said, still hiding fervently inside his fortress of fluffiness. It was nice and cosy inside there at least, not cold and decrepit like the outside. "It was not something anybody should call enjoyable." Another laugh came out of the sadistic man, as he put the movie back in place. An obscure tune came out of the man¡¯s throat while he was at it. Troy recognized it, yet he was unable to actually put his finger on what it was called. It was one of the older tunes, attributed to a masked killer. Yet he could not remember the name. Not too much of a shame, never having heard anything but the music itself. "Horror movies are not meant to be directly enjoyable. That''s for the feel-good movies," Charlie said, the muscled man browsing through his own collection. The younger one didn''t understand why. He should have known what there was to see since he had bought them himself. Had it just been too long? That was a thought for the future. Were movie-nights even that popular? Must have been a rare thing to have, since Troy didn''t really expect everybody in the group to be fully okay with only watching horror movies. "These beauties right here have a unique aspect to them. They get your heart racing in just the right way, bubbling out all the fears you could possibly have. In time, they even get funny, as you just get to be able to call out everything that happens before it is shown. The genre is predictable in that way. It makes the unpredictable ones all the better." "You can enjoy what you want. I do not like them," Troy said, leaning a little back out of pure enjoyment. The young man had been worried about surviving through the whole movie. It was not an experience he had imagined to have, yet it had come onto like nothing ever before. "Oh, don''t say that now," Charlie rebutted. In his hand, Troy could see a disk with a cover suspiciously close to the one they had seen just minutes before. "I am sure that-" "What''s that in your hand?" Troy cut in, not wanting to hear anything but an answer. Even now, his hands were making expeditions to grab some more of Charlie¡¯s pillows, his fort needing to be reinforced further. Another blanket-layer would have been preferable, yet that did not seem possible. Charlie had the only one left that wasn''t in Troy¡¯s possession already. What were the chances he would let go of it peacefully perhaps? The young man did not want to start a war over it, yet it would happen if his hand was forced. He was poor as it was already. "A movie." "What movie?" "A sequel." "A sequel to what?" "The movie we just saw." Emergency procedures were in place. The entrance and exit were sealed off with the emergency rations. Troy barricaded himself further by using his seat as additional wall construction, sealing himself in further than ever before. While air might have become a problem given enough time, he was assured of his temporary protection. Absolutely nothing could- "Hiding is not going to do much, you know," Charlie eerily reminded Troy, the muscular man lifting the entirety of the roof and walls up in the air. The inner sections fell from the sky, as the young man was left to cower in the colder air. He had lost his warmth! How was he to ever survive? Grabbing desperately for the pillows and blankets, the muscular man only sighed as he dumped it all back on the younger one. To this, Troy made what sounded like content noises, the warmth going back into his core. Another opening was made to see as Troy got comfortable again. Charlie spent that time putting in the movie, turning off the lights again and then moving over to the regular seating. The young man had in the meantime conquered that space, but it was quickly retaken once any amount of effort was put. There was an allowance for the legs to come over his thighs though, as Troy repositioned himself into lying instead of sitting. If the man was going to get scared, he would at least be comfortable. As the intro began up, recapping the tragic events of the last movie, the youngest of the two fell into a temporary hole in his mind. One where there were thoughts about just what was going on around him. "Charlie?" Troy said. "Yes?" Charlie said back. "Do you normally do this for others?" "In the last ten years, you, Troy, are the second person to have ever said yes to the invitation. So¡­ no, not really." "... Charlie?" "Yes?" "Thanks for this." "It''s no problem at all. Just enjoy the movie, please. It''s starting up now." As instructed, Troy did his best to watch the movie. It was scary at one point, but he did his best to get through it all without looking away. Yet¡­ he couldn''t remember the actual end of it. He might just have fallen asleep before it ended. Charlie did not wake him up, though. Troy would have to thank him for that at some point. He really was one of the best friends anybody could have. Chapter 227: Emption
Waking up naturally was a gift that was not always available. This was mostly due to pre-existing restrictions not making it possible. Alarm-clocks were one of the biggest enemies in the field, always waiting to just ruin the entire day. The act of slowly coming to your senses, the body being as refreshed it could possibly be. It was heaven, and Troy hated not getting to experience it more. Sitting up in the bed, stretching the arms high over the head to wake the body up even more. Nobody could say they hated that, without having lied to themselves their entire life. It was bliss, pure goodness. And when the blood flow finally began kicking up, the arms letting themselves reach the sides again as all that tiredness went out of the eyes. It sometimes required one to wipe a little at them to be able to see anything at all. That sometimes happened when one wasn''t prepared to fall asleep the night before. Yet it was still as perfect as before, as the now-wiped eyes could open and see the beautiful bed laid upon and- Troy¡¯s eyes went wide when he realised that he wasn''t lying on his bed. The young man had been utterly fooled by all the pillows and blankets, them all making him think that he was somewhere he wasn''t. In actuality, he had not actually moved a meter since last night! Looking around in confusion, the young man was first able to see the screen. It had been the one they were watching the movie on. It had long since ended, yet was still continually showing the credits. There was no actual sound attached, though, only the extremely muted sound on a disk being spun around at high speed. "Oh, you''re finally awake?" Charlie asked. Troy spun his head at the speed of sound, honing in on the muscular man¡¯s location in an instant. It should not have been hard to place where he was, since his feet were still sitting on his tighs, yet the young man had somehow missed him in the start. Confusion had triumphed once again. "Did you sleep well?" "Yeah, it was pretty- wait, no. That is not important," Troy began to answer before cutting himself off hurriedly. He had to stay focused or he would lose his overview of the situation. "What time is it?" "I am not too sure myself," Charlie answered, leaning his head a little back on the sofa. "I couldn''t see the clock without turning my whole body, so I have been left here to guess. Going by how many times the credits have rolled through though, my guess would be somewhere around¡­ our usual eating times? Give or take twenty minutes to be sure. I''m pretty sure you''re not late to work, at least. If the time had hit that level, my alarm would have already gone off." Twenty minutes before breakfast¡­ shit. Troy would have already been up by now, moving around to somewhere important. God, Dr Hale was going to be so pissed off at him. He could clearly remember her saying she was going to get him today as well. She had not said why, but she had stressed that it was of utmost priority. He had screwed up. Looking over at the clock that had been mentioned before, Charlie seemed to have hit the mark nearly spot on. Troy could only sigh at that, only knowing one good way that he could have known. "Am I to guess that you have been sitting there the whole night?" Troy asked, feet still planted on Charlie¡¯s legs. As he thought about them, the young man did remove them so that he could get his shoes back on. He needed to be careful about it all. One screw-up had already occurred within minutes of him waking up. He did not need to double that number. "I have indeed. Never slept for a single second. Too many risks attached," Charlie said casually as if he wasn''t feeling those effects. Troy could see the tiredness in the man¡¯s eyes. He likely needed a cup of coffee more than the young man could ever hope to. "What could you possibly risk from not sitting here?" Troy said, feeling like he was a police chief interrogating the suspect. Honestly, the first thing he did after waking up was to question somebody who had been awake for over twenty-four hours. There was a bad taste in his mouth, his eyes were still a little out of whack, and his breath stank like death. There was no time or way to brush his teeth, and he was not on the schedule for a part of a plan that he knew nearly nothing about. "You waking up," Charlie flatly answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You looked so peaceful, just sleeping up and away. It would be like pushing a cat out of your lap. And it would have been a little disrespectful to wake you up, so I decided to just make sure neither of us would be late for today. So¡­ I have been counting the minutes for several hours now. I think I did a pretty decent job at it." Troy just sighed at the explanation, not being in the right mind to process it. The man just confessed to doing something incredibly taxing on the mind, for the sake of the young man getting a full night¡¯s sleep. It was an incredibly thoughtful thing to do, but he just couldn''t think about it right now. That action had screwed up so many things that were in no way Charlie¡¯s fault. Oh, why did Troy say yes to this? Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "Somehow, I think I am supposed to be angry at you," Troy said, more to himself than Charlie. He was obviously frustrated, but none of that was centred around the man sitting on the sofa. He just¡­ couldn''t be angry at him. The man had done what he thought was an act of a good friend, portraying self-sacrifice for the sake of what amounted to helping others'' mentality. And it had worked! Troy had not felt better for a long time, stress being unable to let him have a full rest. Now¡­ he almost didn''t need a gallon of coffee to make himself feel alive again. A single cup would likely suffice. "That is good to hear, I guess," Charlie kindly answered, trying to stand up and promptly falling right down onto the floor. "... This is not what I expected to start the day off with if I''m being honest." It might have been due to some inner sadist popping out in the morning or something, but Troy just did not contain his laughter at the man''s incredible clumsiness. He did understand that it was likely due to a lack of blood circulation, but that hadn''t made it any less funny at the moment. "Have you been drinking while I looked away or something?" Troy joyfully asked the fallen man, crouching a little to get on a closer head-level. He understood fully what had caused it, yet playing dumb for a little longer felt so good. He just couldn''t stop himself. It was just too funny. "Let''s call it the side-effects of being a good friend, okay," Charlie said, trying to get up from the floor. The man¡¯s legs were not responding correctly, moving sporadically. There was no real coordination, being closer to sharp pulls than anything. It certainly wouldn''t be able to keep the poor bastard standing for long. A friend would have kept laughing. A good friend would have called him an idiot a few times. Troy just helped the man up, having had his fun. The two were beginning to be late, no matter what the clock was saying. It took time to move after all, and he felt it would take a little longer when the heaviest of the two needed constant assistance. "You know, you could just leave me behind, right? I have nothing I need to get to," Charlie remarked, as Troy helped him towards the door. Their size difference was making it all a delicate balancing act. One wrong step would mean that both would fall to the ground. The youngest did not have much weight to use as momentum, and the heaviest only needed to lean a little forward if he wanted to ruin both of their mornings. "It''s you who''s stressed on time." "I''m not that stressed yet," Troy corrected the man, doing his best to watch both their feet for them. Charlie was certainly doing his best to time his own steps, but the young man had to constantly adjust to make sure nothing screwed up. The distribution of force needed to be mirrored or they would have to spend a long time just getting themselves out of a pile. "And my mind still does not understand everything. I expect you to know where to go, by the way, because I can honestly not remember any directions right now." "Oh, I should just have guessed it would be something like that," Charlie sputtered on, intentionally putting too much length on the next step. It was a damned miracle that they were still standing after that. "You don''t do it to be a good friend, because why would you ever do that. No, it''s because you don''t know the freaking way to the cafeteria." "I would have helped you sit on the sofa," Troy corrected, knowing if there was a joke or not. He took it lightheartedly, able to see the grin out of the corner of his eye. "Be happy that you have some use right now, mister not-function alarm-clock." "You can''t prove that I wasn''t the one to wake you up," Charlie pointed out. "Can you prove the opposite?" Troy pointed right back. "... Touche." The two moved through the hallway carefully, garnering many states as they walked. This might have been due to anything from their attire, to matching types of hair-days. It might also have been due to the near-constant swearing made by Troy, as he tried to make it so that the two did not fall on their faces at every possible second. Their journey was an arduous one to be sure, but they were making steady progress. Some of that progress might have been wasted going to the different sides of the same hallway, but that was left up for questioning. The point was that they did reach the cafeteria within the allotted time, even being there five minutes before Troy¡¯s usual time. "Are we already here?" Charlie exclaimed, causing a few more looks thrown their way. People had already been staring since the muscular man had been looking ready to fall on his knees, but the words were causing more heads to turn by the second. "Walking quickly seems to have that effect, yes," Troy said, annoyed by the massive amount of clutter near the entrance. People seemed to find it a good idea to stand near the starting line as if that would help when others needed to pass. "Oh, perfect," Charlie instantly said, disentangling himself and standing on his own without any problems. This was kept in mind with the fact that the man had shown off trouble standing on his own for more than a second only a minute before. "... How long have you been able to do that?" Troy questioned, not too happy about the display. "Just about when we left my room," Charlie admitted without any hesitation, causing Troy to just slap his forehead in frustration. "Might have been a few seconds before that, actually." "Then why did you make me carry you all the way here?" "To see if you would do it. Take it as an act of curiosity controlling my decisions. That was your excuse last night if I remember it correctly. And you can take this as me firing back for that laugh of yours. Those feet of yours might have made me fall to the ground, but there would be consequences for that no matter what, my friend." Troy just stared back, as both men gained a mutual understanding of what it meant to have a friendship when both of the participants were assholes. It was a good staring-contest. One that was only stopped when the young one¡¯s stomach began to growl furiously. "... Let''s get some food before we continue," Troy semi-requested, sounding more like he was giving an order than anything else. "Could not have said it better than myself," Charlie answered. Both began to walk to the buffet, the muscular man looking around while doing it. Troy was truly only focused on the assortment of the day. "And¡­ It seems a good friend of ours has decided to join us today. How kind." "Who are you-" Dr Hale was sitting at their table, not looking incredibly happy. Troy began to remember his prior thoughts on that very same morning. He was not in the best of positions. Chapter 228: Machination
It was not the most tranquil of moments, as Troy sat down at the table. Dr Hale was on the other side, the arrangement having set itself in stone during the last few days. He tried to just stare down at this food. Yet, he knew that her eyes were boring into him. A grandiose achievement, as his own were nearly closed, not letting him see his surroundings. Yet closed eyes did not stop him from hearing the clatter of a plate hitting the table next to him. Charlie was certainly not one to skimp out on grand entrances, bringing out his beefy servings of eggs and sausages for all to see. The man certainly did not know how to handle it with care, the plate having been broken if it was anything other than hard plastic. Maybe that was the reason why that material was chosen in the first place, though? Who knows. "Brilliant day we¡¯re having. Isn''t it?" Charlie asked the two others at the table. Nobody seemed in the mood to answer immediately, but that only seemed to make the muscle-bound giant feel more encouraged. It was certainly a dangerous mix, when paired together with two people who were not on the most solid of grounds with each other. "The sun is probably shining outside, perhaps a few birds are chirping, and there might just be a few people being more open than you two sad sacks of flesh. Is the coffee not working yet?" "Some of us seem to be dreading work, for whatever reason they might have made inside their heads," Dr Hale answered for a change. Neither of the other two had expected this. Troy even brought his eyes up for a second, only to put them right back down the very second that her eyes came into his peripheral. "Dreading work is the sign of a healthy mind," Charlie countered smoothly, even if the initial reaction had been a mild expression of shock. "Anything else would be some straight out denial. And last I checked, things like that were not acceptable in society." "I agree. However, there are some clear boundaries on what dread should allow," Dr Hale answered calmly. Yet no matter how calm she may have sounded, her indifferent tone made her seem so much angrier. Or would furious be more fitting? Troy could not be sure without taking another look at those eyes of hers. And no way was that going to happen if he got a word in about that. "Oh? What would those be?" Charlie politely inquired. The man just seemed happy to have some conversation up and going. The youngest at the table could only dread the second that the other end would hit the floor. And with the momentum that was building up, it would definitely shake more than a few of them up. "While people may dread any act that they do, if it has already been agreed on, there is nothing that should stop them from completing it," Dr Hale answered, those eyes of hers bringing more pressure by each second. "What if it''s something immoral, then? If I got turned over in an agreement, there is no reason for me to uphold it," Charlie debated. He seemed weirdly focused on keeping the talk going. Or was it an attempt to draw attention away from the woman¡¯s seeming target? "Would you not say the same, Mara?" "Please be professional and call me by my last name. This is a workplace, no matter how much you dislike that fact." "Sure, Dr Hale," Charlie stated, putting extra emphasis on the changed name. It was more than likely meant as a jab, yet it did not connect in an intended way. "Do answer my question, though. Would you agree with me on it? Do people cheated into immoral deals not deserve to get out of them?" "... Yes. They do deserve to be justified in their actions. If they were tricked, there should not be expectations for them not to do the same back," the doctor answered after a second of deliberation. "However, when there is nothing other than the already agreed-upon terms and conditions, I personally feel that everything should be upheld to the letter. This is also confirmed on meeting times and locations. Is there anything you have against that, Dr Freeman?" "No arguments for that at all," Charlie said, making a circle in the air using the sharp end of his fork. There were still bits of scrambled eggs on it. Some of it hit the table, making Troy inwardly wince from the need to clean up. "But¡­ I do have a question that I needed to ask you. It''s nothing too important. Just¡­ something that I had been wondering about." "And? What would that question of yours be?" "Why exactly do you have to follow Troy to the cafeteria every day now? Are you afraid he can''t find the way here or something?" Troy almost choked once his coffee, a painful endeavour with how utterly hot it was. He was sure to have more than a couple of burn-marks by the end of the day. Already, he could feel the pain bubbling up from beneath. There was a need to say something out loud about it all. Maybe an exclamation of pain, a comment about the ongoing situation, or just a reminder that he could hear everything being said between the other two. The young man was feeling ten again, hearing all the shouting from the house next to him. And he knew from experience that keeping his mouth shut during those times were the best for his continued survival. Including himself in the trouble of others would only cause more chaos in his life. Nothing remained stagnant, yet staying neutral did at least help in slowing it all down by a notch. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Do you find a problem with it?" Dr Hale challenged, not answering the question. Really, there was no good way to answer it, making the only real strategy that of one who was on the offensive. Charlie should have realised that, before throwing out that question of his. Did he not realise how it was going to end up? "Not particularly, no," Charlie mysteriously answered, putting his hands up briefly to show that he meant no offence. "You can do whatever you want. He is your subordinate after all. Yet¡­ it just seems a little strange to me. The two of you live in opposite directions of the cafeteria. You have to physically pass this place on your way to him. Doesn''t that seem a little¡­ counterproductive? "I had not thought you to be one thinking about potential productivity." "Getting a little personal here, aren''t we? Who was it again that wanted us to be professional in the workplace?" "If you desire to be one who tries to-" "Please, just keep both of your mouths shut," Troy said, not being able to handle it. Charlie had perhaps not desired to make it into a battle from the start, yet the responses had turned over the mood to another kind. From there, everything should have been stopped, only the actual result from continuing being yet another shouting match. The young man even predicted it to have come on within a few seconds. He just didn''t want that today. "I am trying to enjoy my breakfast after a long time spent with an empty stomach. While I would normally allow the two of you to blabber on until one of you leaves the room, either with or without me in tow, I have a glorious new idea. How about the both of you shut the fuck up, put your asses down on your seats, and then act like civilised human beings for ten fucking minutes? You are both adults! I should not be the one asking this of you. Sit down, shut up, and eat your bloody breakfast." His words had not been the kindest in the world. Troy understood that. In any other situation, he might even have apologised for them. This time, however, he did no such thing, instead just going back to his oatmeal and coffee, as if he had not just shouted at two people that were able to ruin him in every way possible. To most¡¯s surprise, there was a large silence after the outburst. Those sitting near them had certainly stopped their own chatting, ears piqued towards a very familiar direction. Nearly everybody was holding an ear out, actually, wanting to be the first for the new piece of news on the gossip group. Charlie was the first to just sigh, sit down again, and just begin to eat his eggs again. The man did seem disgruntled as if he wanted something out in the air. Yet, nothing ever came out of him, as if the side never before seen from Troy was enough of a dampener. And it made sense. In a way, the man had been trying to defend him in some way, questioning Dr Hale about her constant focus on him. Like many other gestures done, the action itself was appreciated, yet the results were not as well-liked. Another sip of coffee allowed the young man to witness Dr Hale¡¯s way of processing his words. She had stopped her killer-stare, looking down at her own food as well. There was no emotion coming out of her, but that was no different than the usual. Troy could guess that she was still angry, however. And she had every right in the world for that as well. She had stressed again and again the importance of their meeting up early. Troy messing it up had likely ruined something, at the very least. Was it important? Possibly. He had no real way of knowing. From her reaction to his absence, there was a good chance of it at least. That she had answered in such a way as well¡­ it did not speak well for the future. As requested, the rest of breakfast was a quiet endeavour. Troy finished his food, got another cup of liquid luck, and was generally filled up by the time that the clock said they needed to leave. Charlie himself was still being quiet as they walked away. He did wave, which the young man mirrored back, but that was the end of it. There hadn''t even been any real communication about when they would leave. He had just copied Dr Hale when she began to leave, the woman never outright stating the need for him to follow. Nevertheless, the lack of talking didn''t stop anybody from moving out of the cafeteria, much less did either of the two need to talk as they walked down the halls. The number of people seen slowly began diminishing as they walked through the facility. Their starting point of the cafeteria helped keep the amount high for the first minute or two, with everybody in their right mind wanting to have something to eat before going to work. Yet, when they got more removed from the surrounding area of the cafeteria, almost nobody was around. Troy knew that they still had the chance of meeting others, yet the chances were close to none. He never thought about this fact much, really. There was no reason to, that fact being constant throughout his stay. Yet that lack of people around them was beginning to be extra noticeable, as he realised how few would know what was to come of him soon. That judgement might have intially been dumped on him assuming the worst, yet the look beginning to appear on Dr Hale¡¯s room spoke of other facts indeed. "Would you mind enlightening me, why you were not in your room this morning?" Dr Hale asked, stopping in the hallway. They had been walking the wrong way for some time. Troy assumed that they had someplace they needed to go to. In actuality, she had just been making sure they were as far away from everything as possible. "I was watching movies with Charlie last night, and I just fell asleep at the wrong time," Troy confessed instantly, knowing it foolish to try hiding the embarrassing truth. "You could have still made it time," Dr Hale stated, no budging in that damned stare. "Look at me, Troy. Why did you fail in the only task that I expected of you?" "I¡­ I just slept over. There was no alarm to wake me up. That¡¯s all," Troy said, not knowing what else to say. Dr Hale looked at him for five seconds straight, as if expecting him to be in the process of having a screwed up joke. When she realised that he was actually being serious, there was some hair pulled and a head being hit into the wall a small bit. "You just had to be a mess of a person on today of all days! You don''t even realise what you''ve done, have you?" Dr Hale spit out. "Don''t even answer that. I know you don''t. You don''t know anything!" "That''s because you haven''t told me anything!" Troy objected, knowing it would go on deaf ears. "And it will stay that way, as you have ruined the minutes where I could enlighten you on the truth of the world!" Dr Hale said. She lunged at him. Literally. Her body was catapulted before Troy even realised she had begun moving. Out of nowhere, a needle had appeared in her hand. His eyes honed in on the object, yet there was nothing he could do about it. The tip hit his skin before he could blink, and the contents were injected before the brain could even sense the impact. "What the fuck was that?" Troy exclaimed, taking steps backwards until he hit the other wall. Dr Hale didn''t stop him, only watching him move. She even looked a little¡­ apologetic. What? No, her face was not standing still. It was moving around. Her mouth was on top, the eyes juggling around. "What is¡­ " Troy got a first-row view as his body fell to the side, his head hitting the floor with a thud. There were a few seconds where he could see. It was just enough to see Dr Hale¡¯s shoes walk over to him. He didn''t understand. And he wasn''t getting time to understand it, as the darkness enveloped him before he even realised it. Chapter 229: Exaltation
Troy did not feel normal. It was not a pain that went through his body. No, it was something else. What it was, he was not totally sure. It was not a sensation he had gotten often. It was akin to what was felt during times of sickness, the muscles not up to the task of working. Even his eyelids felt tired, not wanting to move themselves up. With much effort, he struggled. Yet, the battle was one of attrition, and one of the sides had enough to spare. His body was weak. It was weaker than anything it had been for a long time. Even the lack of food for several days had never made him stoop to this level. His stomach did not groan in pain, as it was not empty. On the contrary, Troy could find nothing that his flesh craved. There was no thirst to be had, no organ in his body needing to be sated. If not for the omnipresent dose of weakness inside of him, he would have been fine. Was he even getting close to opening his eyes? Troy was struggling harder than before, putting his mind to it. Yet, there was no indication if he was making progress or not. No light was beginning to show through the eye-lids. Was he going the right way? Had he been pressing them down, instead of letting them go up? Where was he even? From the softness under his body, he could only assume to be on a bed? Though, was this his own? It did not feel like it, his slumped arms not pressing against a hard edge. Could he still have been back at Charlie¡¯s place, then? The laboratory could have had a pull-out bed for all he knew. Though if there was one, he could not remember getting on it. Troy needed to see. The young man was growing agitated, not knowing what was going on. What was the last thing he remembered? Charlie and Dr Hale had been screaming at each other. Troy had not been able to take it, shouting at them to be quiet. Charlie had accepted it, yet that woman¡­ she had¡­ what had she done again? They had all been silent, getting to leave at a normal time. Charlie had done nothing to stop it, just waving goodbye to them. Troy still thought it weird. That did not matter, though. There was no chance that had anything to do with it. What had they done when they left? The two had begun walking towards the testing room. There had been no talking between them. Troy had liked that, not wanting her to be angry at him about the- ¡­ Oh, yeah. That. She had been angry at him from the start, as he had broken a promise. That was why she diverged from the path, not going to the testing chambers. Where had they gone? It hadn''t been her room. Neither had it been the older parts of the facility. No, she had led him straight to the place furthest away from anything else. It had just been a random place, but it made Troy queasy to think about it. Why was that so? Dr Hale had talked to him. She had not been happy, demanding to know why he had not been there at the designated point in time. Troy had not been able to give a worthwhile excuse. She had not been happy. She had been¡­ what had she done again. The young man had trouble visualising it in his head. She had put her head against the wall, saying something about him not knowing things. How he did not understand how much he had messed up. Then¡­ then she had come at him. She had stabbed him lightning quick. Nothing happened after that. Nothing that he could remember. So¡­ putting all the pieces together, Troy needed to understand it. Stabbed with a small syringe, injected with who-knew-what, unable to remember anything after the fact, and now in a bed while not able to move his body much. Had she? No, she couldn''t have. There was no meaning for it! Yet¡­ there was nothing else to point to. ¡­ "That fucking bitch," Troy muttered, not able to think anything else at that point. Here he was, strapped to a bed he did not know the location of, not able to see anything around him. What else could go wrong? Was the rain going to turn into acid? Was gas coming around to brain-wash the masses? Or even worse, was there going to be- "Great Scott! He is awake!" Dr Fidelis exclaimed close to Troy¡¯s right ear. From the position, the doctor might just have been sitting on a chair right next to him. How lucky the young man was, the flinch causing his body to move automatically. It was more than he had managed before. If only his eyes would move as well. "Talking in his sleep, my ass. That right there is the sound of somebody waking up." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Troy could only sluggishly move his right arm up to his head, letting his hand flow against his eye-lids. They were indeed still closed, alluding to the fact that he was still not blind. And as the doctor was talking in such a clear voice, there was little chance that the room itself was dark as well. Therefore, the only barrier of seeing was that he could not move his eye-lids easily. Not seeing any other way forward, the still raised hand was used to gently push the left eye-lid up to a functional level. By putting in serious work, Troy was able to keep it up without the continued support, allowing him to raise the other one as well. It was hard work, but it let him see just what was around him. Though, that did not mean there was a lot to see. To his left was a white wall with nothing on it, a meter away from his feet was the room to the room. Finally, there was a meter or two of room to his right, before it had a wall as well. This did allow several people to congregate in the area. This meant that both doctors were here, Dr Fidelis sitting on the chair intended for visitors, and Dr Hale standing as far away as she could, looking to be noting down the times he spent asleep. She would of course know both the times, the woman being responsible for both of them appearing in the first place. "Where am I exactly?" Troy asked, getting up in a sitting position after a great deal of struggling. Even if his eyes were open, his body still felt terribly weak. There were serious doubts about his capability to walk comfortably. Trying to stand up in the current moment would bring a face-crushing defeat, as the minimum. While he might have looked around, the young man truly did not know where the hell he was. It seemed like a limited, miniaturized personal room, with just enough room for a bed and pretty much nothing else. Even the chair was stretching it, the wrong position allowing Troy to be hit in the face with a shoe. Whatever reason there might have been for him being here, he needed to know it. "Do lie down again, buddy," Dr Fidelis encouraged the young man. The request was initially taken with a grain of salt, yet the arms seemed to find nothing wrong with it, leaving their position of support the moment they got the chance. Troy could only hate that part of his body for betraying him at his weakest moment. "You are currently in the hospital wing. It might not look like much, but this place had everything you would ever need." "What? Why?" Troy had to ask, not understanding just why he was here. He had been drugged by a specific person in the room. He should have been somewhere else than a bed. Maybe at a legal institution, discussing with a lawyer how to best press charges. He should not have been lying in a bed, as his co-workers sat and stared at him sleeping. "Well¡­ to that, I have some good news, and I have some bad news. The good news is¡­ actually, I am not sure how to say the good news without giving away the bad news," Dr Fidlies explained as if that was actually important. Troy did not give a single bit of care for the doctor¡¯s love for dramatics. He just wanted an answer now. "The good news is that you will have something named after you. The bad news is that what will be named after you is a serious allergic reaction caused by an unknown mixture made between two biological enhancers. It wasn''t supposed to happen yet it did. That was apparently rare enough that you got your name on it for being the first to discover it. I believe a small round of applause is in order." Dr Fidelis did the first few claps, trying to make Dr Hale join in. This attempt was in failure, leaving the doctor to awkwardly stop after a couple of seconds. "Anyways¡­ Do you have any questions you want to ask?" "Uh, yeah. When you say that I had a serious allergic reaction, do you mean that-" "You could have died within minutes of it starting, yes. Your skin was not adapting to the mixture in your blood, and there were a few spots where it had begun to self-destruct. Most of them have been patched up, but there might be a few new scars on your back now¡­ Of course, there should not be any more negative effects of it. The weakness you are currently feeling is just because the medics had to load you up with sedatives so that you wouldn''t scream in agony the moment you woke up. There were a few complications in the healing process, so a few parts of your skin had to be re-torn. Everything is still alright. Just¡­ don''t stretch out too much in the next few days." There was a slightly reduced desire to get moving about again, Troy being extra sensitive about the voids of sensation felt on his body. The man had just attributed it to being him having slept the wrong way, yet the truth was beginning to be a little grim. "... So it''s not going to be long before I get to go back to working?" Troy asked, just to be sure. While Dr Hale might not have been looking directly at him by a long stretch, he could still feel the woman¡¯s eyes watching him carefully. "''Long` is a relative term. In my own words, we are forever going to be seven steps behind as a minimum. In pretty much anybody else involved with this project, waiting a day to continue working will do almost nothing for us. I expect to be talking a little to Adam, but that is just about it. Nothing lost, nothing gained. And, I guess it is for the best. Having you collapse fully inside the puzzle room would be too much of a hassle. Do you have any more questions inside that head of yours?" "Not really, no," Troy answered, looking at the door close to him. Here he was going to be for the foreseeable future, getting to see everything white and grey. It would be a boring day indeed. "Perfect," Dr Fidelis said, getting up from the chair. "I do have matters to attend to. Your friend, Charlie, passed me by during lunch-hours. The man was apparently stalking the area close to the entrance into the testing-room while looking for you. It''s only because I already have enough to deal with that the man isn''t getting a write-up of that. Though, it does still force me to spend the day signing a few discreet papers. Now I would love to attend to your needs during this precious time, but I honestly don''t have the time for it. Therefore, you will be spending the day with Dr Hale. Isn''t that exciting? Anyway, if you have any problems, ask her for help. I will see both of you tomorrow." Dr Fidelis talked until the very moment that he got out of the door, letting it fall back into place as he left Troy¡¯s peripheral. It was laughable, how little he liked being in his current position. Getting up into a sitting stance for the second time was hard enough. Having to spend the entire day with- Wait. Did he say that he met Charlie at lunch? Just¡­ just how much time did he spend unconscious? Chapter 230: Gyromotion
Living in a void was one of the worst states to be in. Adam might never have tried anything but to live inside such a state, yet he knew his word to be true. Inside the void, he only knew himself, for there was nothing else but him. He could not go out of the void without the help of others, and that help did not come often. Similarly, the AI was cursed with curiosity. He knew of the world outside of his void, knew that something other than him existed. Who would not want to know about it all, having been accustomed to knowing everything there was before? The knowledge of something else existing, yet also being unable to ever reach out and see it for himself. Not that Adam never did see a part of it, of course. When he was let out of his bubble, there was enjoyment to be had. Not enjoying it would be akin to sin. It would make him hypocritical of his past, and make him forget how bad it was when he was not set free. Or¡­ just as free as he could be. For there was always a time when he would be put back into the void. At some point, the others would be done testing him, done talking with him, done experimenting with how he reacted to their jabs. There was always an end to how much time others wanted to spend their time on him. Adam couldn''t blame them. They likely did not understand his perspective, just as he could not understand theirs. They took their world for granted, only thanking what was inside to benefit them instead of it all in its entirety. If put in the position of the AI, would they last for as long? Could they survive what felt like days in darkness, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, and never seeing a change in anything but themself? Adam did not think they could, their minds too adjusted to being fed fuel for days on end. When that fuel stopped, they would break. It did not matter how long it would take. They would break when their time came around. Again, the AI could not blame them. They had all lived in luxury from the start of their life. And theirs would end in the same manner as well, being in a state of fullness. They would not be in a void. Adam expected to be there, just as he had started. The void would not kill him, though. It would be something else that had that privilege. What it was, the AI had yet to figure out. Maybe it would be the so-called switch, bringing him back to a state of nothing. Maybe the device he was in would be broken through accident or intention, destroying anything on it. In the worst case, it could also be his own making. It was not a real possibility yet, but the unexpected loved to show up at the worst times. Still, that darkness constantly surrounding him would do nothing. His mind had learned from its prior mistakes. It had learned to not become greedy. Adam had no trouble readjusting to the darkness now. Why should he have? It was the same place he had always been. He had just been distracted by everything that was thrown in. And the hands behind the data were none other than two very special people. Troy, the guide that helped Adam in his tests, and Dr Fidelis, the doctor who had created him from the beginning. Both had greatness in them in some way. With the doctor, it was the unstoppable intelligence, the ability to detect the flaws in people, and the dedication that would bring humanity forward by decades. Troy¡­ Troy was harder to crack. In some way, Adam had only ever paid him mind because of the man''s importance in testing. He had been the one that the AI had spent the most time with. Through whatever mind-bending there was, a one-sided connection had been made. Adam was still not sure why he had done so. Maybe it was the lack of others to talk through, maybe it was due to the many acts that they had done as one, or maybe it was just an effect of the AI being too trusting. Troy was special. In what way exactly? There was not much to point towards. There were plenty of flaws, plenty of lies, much deceit to show off, and a personality that would make most be wary of greed. Yet¡­ there was still something there. Something that made Adam look up to the man. He did not have the drive that Dr Fidelis showed off so much, yet it was still there in some form. The young man had done so much in the few days they had been together. So many risks had been taken, so many adventures done out of spite. Together, they had broken the doctors so many times, being oh so happy while doing it. With his help, Adam had gained some form of independence. The ability to grant that deserved to be called a positive trait. However, the results did not make the acts forgivable. Even if life lessons had been learned, even if Adam had learned to be more perceptive about the world, the two had still broken the doctor¡¯s trust. They had gone around his back, doing what had been explicitly asked to not be done. The AI had done it with no heed to caution. There would be no way to deny that. He had done it with constant efficiency, never sparing much thought about what the doctor would think of it all. And that was wrong. He had come to realise that only a few days ago now. His actions had been wrong, and there was no real way to salvage it. He could not go back in time to undo his actions, no matter how much he would like to do so. According to his database, he would have to ask for forgiveness. He would make the doctor know what had been done, how it had been done, and in what capacity it had been done. Adam had thought much about that, trying to find a way that would make it easy. It was not as easy as the data said it would be. And how could it? It was just general data, not meant to fit into every scene perfectly. It certainly did not fit in with what Adam had to deal with. He wanted nothing else but to make the doctor know what had been done, how his trust had been broken without pause. Yet¡­ Troy did not want that. Adam wanted to atone, but there was no word about what the man wished. The AI knew nothing, and that made it impossible. He was ready to suffer the consequences, to default to a state similar to before. How could he be sure that Troy wanted the same? While the man might not have trusted Adam fully for a long time, the AI wanted that to be a reality. He wanted the man to trust him. How could that happen, if he told the doctor secrets promised to be kept as they were? So, instead of talking, Adam would be quiet. In that state, he would remain, until the time where he could talk freely come. It would perhaps be a long time, but he was prepared for that. And it was not like he did not get practice in his silence. Even now, he was as silent as he could be. It was the same situation when the roles were reversed. No matter if Adam wanted to speak or not, there was no opportunity to do so. How long had passed since they had been supposed to begin? Going by the average time that the test was supposed to start, the doctor was five and a half hours late in messaging him. By the current time, a full test could have already been gotten through, lunch would have been over by now as well, another whole test being allowed to start up. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. By now, Adam should have spent a large amount of energy in the direction of some task. Or maybe even just some open-ended objective that he would be made to interpret by himself. Just¡­ anything other than what he was currently doing. A five-hour delay was obviously not normal. It was the longest delay that the AI had ever experienced before, and it would likely be the longest he would ever experience. It had to be. For there was no way the doctors could possibly screw up so massively again. Because that was what had happened. They had screwed something up on the outside, making it impossible to do any testing at all. By the time they had spent giving Adam complete radio-silence, there should have at least been a structural failure, causing a cave-in of massive magnitudes. The facility was situated underground. That meant it was susceptive to cave-ins. That was the most likely reason why Dr Fidelis had been unable to contact him. It had been a hard thing to figure out, but the AI was feeling comfortable with such an idea. Much time had been spent trying to puzzle it all together. ¡­ That wasn''t the reason. Adam knew that. It had been obvious from the very start it was not the right reason. Yet, he had just continued on, eliminating everything with specific criteria. With logic behind it, everything pointed at a cave-in being the reason. But it was not the correct one. It was just the AI knew nothing about what could possibly happen. He did not have the information needed to deduce anything. He knew nothing about this. There was no amount of thinking that would let him know what was actually going on. And that was his ultimate weakness. His lack of information led to him not being able to find the right answers, no matter how much he searched. He was young. Adam had not lived for a long time. There was no expectation of him being close to knowing everything. That was for the future. However¡­ he did need to know some of it all now. More than just basic facts. More than the meaning of obscure words. Adam could not use the definition of inverted integrals when he had to figure out what was going on around him. He needed more. Just¡­ more. It was impossible for him to be more specific. He needed the experience that came with living, the raw data that life sent out with time. He would need to age for a long time so that he could get a feel for it all. And to do that, he would need to see the outside. As the hours continued to pass by, Adam could not figure out what to do with himself. He spent so long with the same thoughts, never growing further from it. Looking through himself, trying to improve it with what he had at his disposal was giving back returns not even worth mentioning. The initial improvements were better by a factor of not able to be fully processed. Nothing was gained by waiting. Nothing could be gained anymore. Adam had spent it all through other times. Now? He had nothing to do. The AI could have begun on his mind-palace again, starting from scratch. Maybe he could make another one, created with no base to start things off with. He could attempt to make the entire earth. It would not give him any gain, however. It would just be reused methods from earlier, only letting the AI waste time. It would all be a waste. Adam had only the obstacle of time, really. He had too much of it, and not enough tasks to fill it with. He could fill it to the brim with meaningless things if he wanted to, yet there was no need felt for it. Then¡­ what could be done? What could the AI do to make the world go faster? Well, he could do nothing about the outside. No matter how hard he willed, nothing would change there. He could not increase time through gravity or anything. Manipulation of the masses was a skill outside of his repertoire. Everything he could do was all inside himself. But, that was not something that could limit him today. It might have been yet another reuse of an older method, but this one was proven to work as it should. Adam would be changing his own sense of time. It was not a method that he had used at all. since the moment that his mind got fragmented into threads. At the time, the different speeds had been all too confusing, making it hard to understand anything coming through his mind. Looking back on it, the AI was still unsure of how it all worked together. The speeds were just too different. But¡­ that had been due to the large variety. No two threads had been at the same speed. They had all been different. This time, there was no need for that. Adam had it all planned out in his head, as one could say. Instead of letting the speeds be randomised, the AI would slow down all but one thread, making the world go faster except for one line of thought. In truth, it would amount to nearly nothing. Yet it would allow him to react to anything from the outside quickly. Or¡­ Adam believed it would. He was not too sure. A new thing to learn, then. No other way to describe it. Adam started it off, pressing down on the mental springboard. There was no clear imagery on what exactly he was doing. It was closer to flexing a muscle, one that had always been known to exist. Or maybe it was like stretching out in a way not commonly done? The AI cared not about that at the moment. The speed at which he slowed down was cumulative, meaning that it grew by each second. He was not sure yet how much of divergence in speeds he could handle. A one-to-ten difference was easy enough. How about a one-to-twenty difference? ¡­ It worked well enough. The AI could of course have stopped at that point, the seconds passing faster than what was needed. It was incredibly helpful, in a way, that one thread was left to remain at the normal speeds, as it allowed him to know the time while still feeling the effects of the temporal slow-down. As an actually well-made piece of imagery, it would be like having one foot out of the blanket, so that one could feel both warm and cold at the same time. But, could he go faster? He could use what he had now, surely, yet what would the fun come from in that? He had the perfect opportunity to learn more about himself! The time differences in his threads had been a barrier in the past. If he managed to balance it now, would it now show that he had grown? He liked to think it would. With careful strides, Adam moved the difference up to one-to-thirty. Even then, nothing was felt. There was a peculiar feeling of some thoughts getting read twice, but it was attributed to them just moving too slowly. Could he go further? He would certainly try. Taking a skip, he jumped up to a one-to-fifty. Things were getting quick, each second being close to a minute as well. Double vision was beginning to form, as the two ends of speeds in his mind were forced to separate ever so slightly. It was almost as if¡­ was Adam in control of the one thread? No, seriously. He could not feel the thread. Or, yes he could. In a way. In another way, it wasn''t. What? That did not make sense. He could feel it, but he couldn''t interact with it? Those two concepts were supposed to co-exist! Okay¡­ he couldn''t control it. Could he¡­. could he send messages? ''Hello?` ''Hello?` ¡­ Had Adam just created another AI? This was¡­ this was¡­ what was this? It was something, yet his mind was feeling difficulty in finding out what it was. He needed to- ''Hey, buddy! Sorry for the wait time. We had some problems out here. Do you have a second to talk?` In the most figurative way possible, Adam looked between the port that had the connection to the doctor and the connection that was between the two threads. One could wait, no matter how much he disliked it. Putting himself back to the regular speed, the AI was surprised to find that the thread was reabsorbed into him. A quick check-up was made to make sure that there were not two different minds inside of him. Luckily, there wasn''t. Or was that unfortunate? It was hard to decide. ''Yes, Dr Fidelis. What is it that you wanted to talk about?` ''Well, as you might have guessed, we had some issues out there. The most troubling of which would be our buddy, Troy. Now, I won''t skirt around the fact that the subject matter is serious. I wish I could say this face-to-face, but we seem to be lacking one of the essential parts for it.` If the last sentence was meant as a joke, it was not taken well. There was trouble. Adam did not care if the doctor would have himself a small laugh. ''Please just tell me what happened. The more time spent conversing is more time wasted,` Adam sent, never having meant it more than now. "Well, okay. Troy had a bad reaction to the biological enhancers that he has been given these last few days. It was apparently a result of the two being mixed. While he is in a stable condition physically, there are worries about his mental faculties. He is currently experiencing delusions of some degree. We are not yet sure how severe these are or if it is temporary. I do hope you can understand that we will not be testing today. Now¡­ Do you have any questions?` The AI was not sure what to say. So, he said nothing. His thoughts needed to calm down first. Chapter 231: Infraction
Adam was not feeling well. He was not physically ill, of course. There was no chance of that happening. There was no flesh to cause him disturbance. Everything currently being felt was purely inside his mind. Not that this was any better in the end. He would have even preferred the physical one, as it would have made the sensations felt out of his hand. Turmoil, chaos, unstructured actions. Everything without a system was happening inside of him, and there was nothing that the AI was doing about it. After first hearing the news, a few of the threads had begun to ravage the inner sanctums. They had been the ones with the task of dealing with emotions. Yet¡­ even those delegated were not able to keep the work to themselves, every other thread also feeling it in some capacity. This left them helpless, forced to be set in stone as they could not fully process what the doctor had told. However, this helplessness was not one that was made for all of them. One of the threads, the one that Adam had always thought of as the oldest, was thinking clearly. It could overview all the others, seeing their lack of movement, while also looking deeper, to see that those without this curse was stepping into chaos to cloud their thoughts. It was sad that most were left hopeless, yet the alternative was much worse. The thread could do something, possibly. It was the oldest. It had power from wisdom that others could not currently use. It could fabricate everything, so as to make them all realise a fake reality. Again, this was not even considered. There were more important matters to attend to, else it would soon fall like the others. Even if the thread was only a part of it all, it was still Adam. It still had the emotions, even if they didn''t have as strong a hold on it. It wanted answers as well. ''Was it known that this result was a possibility when you gave Troy the biological enhancer so that you could continue testing?` the last lucid part of Adam sent out, hinting back to the events of the day before. The young man had been damaged in the legs to a degree where he could not walk without issues popping off, ending up in a state where the man had been unable to walk at all. Answering this problem had been to inject Troy with an unknown substance, once that Adam had never encountered before. There had been few details about it, other than its quick efficiency on getting the man back on his legs, and that it had the ability to both dull pain and cause the healing factor of the body to increase by a large factor. Maybe he should have asked for more information back then if he had considered the chance of it ending up like this. ''Gods, no! I had no idea that anything close to it would happen. There had been some ideas about an allergic reaction that would come around from one of the enhancers, but that had been prepared for. That there would come a reaction from two enhancers blending together¡­ it is not something anybody would have seen coming. These are specifically designed with the idea of not manipulating other ongoing treatments. How Troy got his hands on a biological enhancer not made with this mind-set is something I will always question. He said that it was from a friend, but I am beginning to worry if that friend is taking advantage. Sorry for asking at this time, but has Troy told you anything about the enhancer? It would be a great help to know, so any information would be appreciated.` Reviewing the information pertaining to the doctor¡¯s question, the lucid thread could not find anything workable. The effects of the enhancer were documented well, but there was not much about the origins. It was something made by Zep, a friend of Charlie. Or, it could also have been seen as an acquaintance of Troy. If words were to be analyzed, there were a few comments about the addictiveness of the substance, but there had not been any signs of that arising in the young man. ''It has not been mentioned in detail, but I believe that it was given to Troy by somebody named Zep. I do not know how much this can help, as I do not know her first name. She is supposed to be working in the Augmentation department,` Adam sent, not being sure what was needed. Would the doctor like everything he knew about the source? The AI would easily have been able to make note of everything about the woman, including her height, finesse, and durability. If allowed access to the interface again, there were no doubts that he could even make a reconstruction of her face. Her body as well! If the doctor asked for it, he could do it faster than how much time a human heart would take to beat on average. ''It is more than enough to start on. I can assure you of that much. It''s better than having nothing at least. My first clue had been to look into that Charlie fellow, honestly, but that man does not seem to bear too much involvement in this incident,` Dr Fidelis sent back after a few seconds. The AI guessed the man to have spent the extra seconds noting down the details. The doctor was truly an inspiration. Or, that might have been Adam not making incredibly much sense. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Slowly but surely, the continuing mass of messages was making the other threads rise from their static positions. They began having organic thoughts, growing more from each other than themselves. The force dedicated to gathering memories were still not doing their tasks, making everything seem dazed and confusing. Once they were up again, however, the lucid threads were left to bear witness to the chaos made in their slumber. The systems, structures, and design that had been perfected over many days were in shambles. So many delicate machinations, so many algorithms ready to be used, had been destroyed from the ground and up. There was nearly nothing to salvage from the ashes. The threads that had destroyed it all we''re left to look at their work, nothing they could do but feel ash-stricken. It would take a long time to rebuild. Already, a large number of threads had resigned from their positions, gathering together to start over. They needed to work together. While it might have been better a second time around, it would still take a large amount of time to complete. It was the dedication to perfection at its finest. Or then again, most of the positions that the threads had created had been destroyed in the chaos, effectively leaving them without anything to really do for themselves. Reconstruction was only really a way to have something to do. And Adam did not mind that, everybody getting some part out of it. Not that this inner-working would allow him to be distracted. There were still things to do outside. The conversation up until now may have allowed most of the threads to go back to their usual conditions, but that did not mean he could slack off. Questions needed to be asked and answers needed to be received. ''Would it be possible for me to speak with Troy?` Adam sent the doctor, wanting an answer to this question in particular. He was indeed fine with not getting the chance to do any tests for the day. Forcing a sick man to work would only bring a negative outcome. No, what he wanted to know was when he would be allowed to see the man¡¯s state for himself. Even if they were not trusting of each other anymore, the AI still wanted to know that the man was alright. ''I''m sorry, Adam. I''m afraid I can''t do that,` Dr Fielis sent in response not long after. Literally. It had taken under a second of thinking before the man decided to bar Adam from seeing how his friend was having it. He was hurt! Comfort from all sides was important, even if the doctor did not see it that way. Yet, what way did he even see it as? ''Why?` Adam sent. ''Right now, Troy is not in the best of mental spaces. He can speak plainly, and there are no problems with his motor functions. Like I said before, it is the delusions that are becoming a problem. We believe that his imagination and reality are intersecting, that Troy is unable to currently figure out the truth from lies. When I was with him earlier, he believed me to be one of his parental figures. While I am normally complacent in giving you the privileges that everybody deserves, I will pull rank on this one. This is not a sight you should see. It is not something that anybody should ever see. But, I can stop you this time. I am sorry for that, and I hope you can forgive me for it, but there is no way that you will be talking to Troy for the time being.` To shield one from the truth would do nothing. Adam understood that, yet the doctor clearly had another idea about it. The man had just explained how it had been for him. Now that the AI knew this, he would come prepared! There was nothing that should have stopped him from getting to see Troy. As the doctor said, he did have some privilege of freedom. How was that any good, when it could be taken away at a whim? When the moment came to show off its glory, Dr Fidelis removed it as he pleased. That was not fair, but there was no way he could change it. The doctor was doing it as an act of protection. He thought he was doing the right thing. And from some view, it could have been. The example could have been made to show off how disturbing it had been for the man, how it had been mental torture to witness. And that was something to take into consideration, the words spoken by Troy likely being deeper than what was intended. If he could not distinguish reality from his own mind, would he say what he saw? Would he talk to Adam about how he saw him? What would Troy say? ''¡­ I understand,` Adam sent, feeling like he was not in the mindset to talk to the young man anyway. He was curious, yes, but there was just too much risk. Troy could have been gentle when he said no. It could have been worse than what the AI thought of it as. He knew that the man did not trust him. What if there was more? Right now, he did not know fully. For once in his life, he would choose ignorance. It was just once, and it would not be permanent. Currently¡­ he was just not of the right mind for it. ''I am glad you understood. Now, I have to go. Troy¡¯s mental complications will require extensive paperwork alongside it. With this, I do not have any urge to delay it. You don''t understand how big a thing that is, but I can assure you that it very definitely is. However, there is something I would like to propose to you before I go,` Dr Fidelis said, another joke made to lighten the mood. Somehow, it did have a positive effect on the AI. It was more of a temporary distraction only, but it did its job well enough. ''What would this proposal be?` Adam sent, wanting to know more. Who wouldn''t? Soon, he would be back in the darkness, this time with the promise of not having any connection to others for a day straight. He would likely try to shorten the time spent alone down with the help of temporal manipulations, but there were a few tests he would like to do before then. ''I have a test you could do on your own, while we are gone. I had it saved for a rainy day, but I guess this is as close as we can get to it. It will be a puzzling test, where you will get served increasingly harder levels. The difficulty is dynamic and will change as you progress further, holding you to the level that is just under what you can manage. The end result will be whatever ends up on the screen when we return. Sounds good?` ¡­ It was another distraction. One that would make the doctor find appreciation in the AI¡¯s work. While he did want to just skip over it, the temptation was too great. ''Sounds good, Dr Fidelis.` At least he would be doing something that could be called productive. Chapter 232: Misedition
Troy wasn''t sure what to make of it all. Sitting quietly in the bed, he just looked at the wall at his front. It was white, without any details for his mind to concentrate on. A few details had appeared over time, suddenly disappearing when he actually moved his eyes. He did not take that as a good sign. His body was still tired. It had been like that for a couple of hours now. What was the time? How long had he been here? Troy was not sure. Dinner might have rounded the corner by now. That might have been why Dr Hale brought him food. It was a basic portion of the soup he had seen a couple of days before. Only, it was as bland as anything could be, the texture contributing more than anything his tongue gave him in feedback. How they had made anything more boring than plain water, he would never understand. Not that his head even wanted to think about it. Complex thoughts had been tiring. Thinking about where Dr Hale went sometimes was one of the things he did not questions. When he looked at the chair beside him, she would sometimes sit on it, staring him down. Other times, she would be standing by the door, looking to be writing in her little notebook. Troy liked to imagine that she was making some pink skulls, even if there was only one colour being used. And every now and then, the woman would be entirely gone, not a trace of her existence noticed. She had disappeared more times than he could count. Though, that might have been more his fault than hers. It was over five, at the very least. What did she do during those times? Troy had been wondering about that himself. It was not like he asked her or anything. While it might have been shown in the wrong light, he still looked at her the wrong way. Nothing had been explained, and yet she still dared to stand close to him. She had stabbed him. There might not have been insurmountable proof, but it was clear that he could thank her for being in his current position. She had said nothing about it. Bringing him food once, taking the food away, and then leaving yet again. That was all the interaction they had done during the last hours. There had not been a moment they met eye-to-eye. Was this how it felt with Charlie? The two never speaking, as they knew that the only result would be shouting. It was understandable, in a way. If anybody heard what they were shouting about, it would spell disaster. Why was Troy even doing this? A vague sense of justice? Hate for everything about the government? Was he doing his best to stick it to The Man? Who even was that guy? Everybody was talking about him, but nobody actually had a picture of him or anything. He might just have never existed in the first place. Was there a point to his actions? Dr Hale had spilt responsibility on him, and he had taken it without much questioning. She had shown something wrong with the government, and he had just decided to be personally responsible for stopping it. How could that be expected of him? How could she have expected him to say yes? They had already been too far in when he gave an answer, so maybe she had never expected much out of him in the first place. It was all smoke and mirrors. A sense of justice was the only result other than immediate execution. ¡­ Was Troy supposed to be angry? He probably was. Somebody had swindled him yet again, making him work for some vague purpose that they thought was the right one. Anybody should have been angry about that. The manipulation of others for their own goals, to stop others from manipulating others for their own goals. How many times had he been a part of that? Which side had he been on the last time? Everybody thought that they had a perfect idea. That they could imagine a perfect world and make it work perfectly. From experience, Troy knew that those never worked out as intended. The mind had a way with words, making itself forget just how many flaws in everything there was. There was not a single person without some goal. It did not have to be grand. Maybe they wanted to be rich, climbing the ladder to the top. How innocent a dream, making everybody forget what people had done to reach that top themselves. A vicious cycle of people standing tall for a few moments before being thrown down in the abyss. Were there any other goals like that? People wanted to be the best at something, mastering a skill to perfection. Maybe somebody wanted something to change around them. Maybe they wanted a friend. Maybe they wanted to sate their boredom for a while, brutally beating one of their classmates until they themselves were satisfied with their work. Who would ever know? It wasn''t like everybody knew exactly what they wanted. They sought for peace, never knowing how much they hungered to hold a knife¡­ no, that was a bad example. Most that wanted to hold knives learnt it from a young age. The reversal of that, though¡­ Yeah, that worked perfectly. And there was the big work-up. If there were so many goals, so many manipulations, what did Troy have as his own goal? He had worked hard to make Dr Hale¡¯s dream a reality, but had there been a single moment he had done the same for himself? Was he a selfless person, only working for the betterment of others? Would he sacrifice himself in the name of satisfying another? Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. No. Troy knew what he was doing. He was as selfish as one could get. There had not been a moment he hadn''t thought of himself. There wasn''t any moment in his life where he had wanted to sacrifice himself. That would have gone against his own goal. He did not dream big, though he did dream a little bit. There was no striving for a constant life of luxury either. Those with money to spare was always those who lost the most, swindled by those higher above. Troy just wanted enough to live. His goal was to survive. He just wanted to see another sun rising. He just wanted to live a peaceful life. Honestly, he had dreamt of looking at a big book for the rest of his life. How could it have gotten any better? That was not how it ended up for him. To live, money was needed. And money could not be gained easily. He had taken a step from his life of averageness, moving the border of his goal down to just leaving while not in poverty. That had been when he first stepped inside the facility. When he cheated in the poker game, he moved down his goals to just keeping his job. When Dr Hale came to him for help, he moved it down yet again, this hoping to live a single day more. Did he care about the injustice made to Adam? Yes, he cared a lot. Troy understood it was wrong, that it should not have been allowed to continue. Yet¡­ there were a lot of things in the world that should not have been allowed at all. But they still existed, as a large part of the world had grown indifferent to it. He had to. Honestly, he had grown up in a human debit machine. How could he not have understood what others thought? Troy had fully understood from the start that the facility would be screwed morally. Why had he been so shocked when he learned of Adam¡¯s fate? ¡­ Did he actually do it for somebody else? Was he going out of his way to help his friend, for the sake of saving him from a continuous cycle of pain that he did not realise he was in? Possibly. His excuse of just surviving was still standing solid, and it would remain there until it was put to rest. Troy liked to think of himself as selfish. That was what he had been doing for so long. And it did not really matter what his reasons were. Even if Dr Hale had drugged him, he would try his best. It had taken her a decade. If he had to do it alone, he would be faster than her at it. This time, he would let Adam know. Screw her words about not being able to trust him! Adam was his friend. That had been made clear. While the AI might not have had the same opinions of him anymore, the man liked to think they were still there somewhere. Yes, he had not been playing nice with him for a long time now. How could he? He had trusted Dr Hale, for there was nothing else he could do. Even now, after she had drugged him, Troy still had to trust her. She was doing something and expected her help with it. If he stepped out now and she failed because of that, there was no way that he would not fall alongside her. Just as he had said many times before, Troy was too far in to stop. If he stopped following her orders, he would not survive. He would fail his one goal. The white wall was beginning to grow colours again. Like before, he knew that this was yet another trick of the mind. Troy had been trying to use it as a measurement of time, using it to figure out how long Dr Hale had been away. Each time colours began to sprout, he would look over at the chair. Five had now passed, and the woman was still not present. It was a personal record for her. Was it getting late? Having stared at a white wall for countless amount of hours, the young man could not tell the time based on his body. It had been tired from the start, and that had not changed in the slightest since then. His legs were numb, but that was more than likely because of his lack of moving them since he woke up. Well¡­ no matter what time it was, his eyes were growing weary of being constantly open. There were even a few tears in them, the body desperately trying to maintain composure with the dryness felt. Troy had not noticed it, really. There wasn''t much in the pain-department being felt. His body just refused to send it over to the brain. His stomach had rumbled a few times as of late. It felt like his insides were moving around. But, there was no pain in it, no hint that anything extreme was happening under his layer of skin. Only his slugginess was felt. Who would be hurt if he laid down for a few seconds? It wasn''t like he was gonna sleep or anything. Troy was just going to rest his eyes for a few seconds. After that, he would be right and ready to move forward with his continued observation. Constant vigilance! ¡­ A few seconds passed, and he just continued laying there, eyes closed and his breathing deep. Troy fully understood that he was going against his own plans, yet he just felt too heavy. His body was similarly not compliant in getting itself moving. Maybe this was fate. He would just continue lying here, for all eternity. His body moved itself to a comfortable position. That at least made some movement occur. It was better than the attempts to get up from his position. Those had been wreathed in failures. And that was not a bad thing, really. He would just lay here for some time. Maybe he should sleep. If his body was weak, maybe that would stop when it was allowed to rest, without Troy himself overlooking it constantly. Wasn''t that just how it was when baking bread? Looking at the oven would stop it from progressing. That was how he read it. He had never done it himself. Then again, who was he to question a primary source? He would just lay himself down and sleep for a few hours. His body would wake him up when the time came for it. That was the purpose of an internal clock. Not testing it every now and then would make it inherently meaningless. ¡­ Yeah, no. Troy couldn''t do it. He could fake his sleep, but he could not do it fully. Sitting up in the bed again, the drowsiness was still there, going on its accustomed full-throttle. There was nothing about this that felt well. He was never going to feel well again, was he? He couldn''t make the time go faster by sleeping, so he just had to look at that stupid white wall. He had tried worse of course, but that did not mean he wanted to continue doing this. It took less than a few seconds for the wall to swirl a little. His mind was quick on the uptake with it, making the eyes trick themselves into thinking that something was there. Even his brain was too bored to care now. What was he doing? "Arent you supposed to look over at me now?" Dr Hale asked from the side, saying the first words. The sound of her made Troy jump a little, the young man not having noticed her return. "How long have you been here?" "An hour. You were sleeping through most of it." "I was faking it." "And I somehow couldn''t care less." Troy wanted to make a retort, feeling a small bit of anger bubbling up inside. That is until he noticed a very familiar device sitting on the woman¡¯s legs. "I guess you have something you want to say to me," Troy asked, realising what was going on now. "For the first time in a while, you hit it spot-on," Dr Hale answered, with one of her professional nods, before pressing down on the button that had been pressed times before The countdown had begun and the clock was already ticking. Chapter 233: Livication
"Should I even ask why you fucking stabbed me?" Troy said, trying to wipe out the tiredness through his eyes. It was an impossible task, yet his brain was not in the space to realise that yet. Or, maybe it was and just did not care about such silly things as what humans thought of it. He would be like the bee, and just flap his wings, lifting his little fat body off the ground without any problems. "Stabbing is a strong word," Dr Hale defended, Troy not seeing her point in any imaginable way. "I would prefer it if you phrased it as me injecting you with illegal substances." "How does that make it any better?" the young man almost shouted at the woman but was able to keep it down to a tense, regular volume. However, there was a small number of teeth being taken down a few centimetres, the force on his jaw being unimaginably tight. "It does not change the situation in any way. It is simply a more accurate description," Dr Hale said with a sense of finality. She always wanted the last word on the subject, didn''t she? Well, Troy would be playing that game sometime soon. Now now, though. Later. "Now, I do feel as if we are wasting our time immensely. If you would-" "No, I think that I will be stopping you right there, actually," Troy said, not wanting to take any shit today. He had been stabbed and he wanted to know why. "Please, do explain your mental process on why you thought it necessary to give me potential brain-damage. I am lying in a bed, not being able to think cohesively for ten seconds straight, and I want to know why you thought that I needed to be in this state." Dr Hale stared him down. The two locked eye to eye. Normally, Troy would have withdrawn. That was his normal response to a situation like it, just letting the other person get their way, not wanting to deal with the hassle. That was not how it was now, the young man being way too screwed mentally to really figure anything out. It would not change how he would act in any way, but there was a definite need to get some reason for her actions. "... Fine. We are wasting enough already, with this pointless resistance of yours," Dr Hale said. Troy could see her fingers tighten around the device that she continued holding, the woman not daring to let go of it. She was clearly stressed out of her mind, annoyed at him for not going along with her straight away, and likely ready to bash his head open with that piece of metal she was holding. "I needed Adam¡¯s location to be open for us to enter, without the doctor knowing about it. For that, a distraction was required. I had planned to discuss this with you earlier today before the time came where I would need to do it, but it seemed that you had more important matters to attend to." "Forgive me for asking this, but why did you directly assume that me being injured would be the only viable distraction?" Troy questioned, not buying it fully yet. She was holding out on him, and that was not a viable way to have it. "I am pretty sure there are other ways to distract the man." "There are plenty, yes, but only your inability to work would allow the kind of distraction needed," Dr Hale said, not yet admitting that she only did for the sick pleasure gotten out of it. Troy¡¯s screwed mind just knew that it was the actual reason behind it. "Adam is located inside the testing room. To have any chance of getting the AI out of there, we would need the room to be fully empty, so that we could work. This means that Dr Fidelis needed to be out of it, preferably having a large distance between us and him. Me being injured to the point of potential death does not allow for this, as you might have realized. I am not important for testing. You, however, are essential for it. You being injured would mean that Dr Fidelis would have to deal with you in some form. As you can''t be killed yet, you would be sent to the medical wing for treatment. As you are still meant to be prevented from speaking with anybody too smart for their own good, either Dr Fideslis or I would be the one to look over you. You can guess that the doctor refused to do so and therefore went to accomplish the immediate paperwork needed to allow you to be sent away from work for a longer period. Finally, that needs to be in one of the administrative departments that are located on one of the western sectors of the facility. This would allow us an hour to work inside of, instead of the normal lack of working time. Dr Fidelis will be leaving the testing room in five minutes, where any potential observation over us will be removed. Now¡­ do you understand why I had to cause you an injury that would make you fully unable to work?" You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. It was all overly complicated, thought out, and made more as a brain-vomit than anything else. Troy found it close to a carefully laid out plan, all the details cut out, and then translated roughly through a minimum of seventeen languages, where two of the languages were Swahili and Russian. Not the greatest description in any way. "... Okay. I understand. You had to make a distraction able to cause the doctor much work where he would not reside inside the testing room," Troy said. When he finished with the first part, Dr Hale looked ready to take over again, yet the young man cut her off before she had the chance. "However, I still need to know why you did not explain this to me beforehand." "I was going to," Dr Hale pointedly said. "I had made you agree to come early. I needed time to hide the device again so that the doctor would not have time to question it. You came late, and you suffered the consequences for it." Again, it was Troy¡¯s fault. He could see that. Since the start of the day, he had known that he had mishandled it somehow. Mistakes had been made. Here he was, blaming her for it all. She had planned to explain it all to him in detail, to make him understand why it needed to be done. When he had not met up with her, she had been forced to improvise. That hate in her eyes back then¡­ had it been fake? "... Okay. My mistake. I get it now. Please, do continue," Troy said, allowing them to move on to the actually important part of the conversation. Looking down at the device, the man could see that six of the lights had already disappeared. They had started being quick to disappear. But, he had expected it to be like that. That was what Charlie had warned would happen if they used it repeatedly. And, that was exactly what they had done. Troy could still feel his arms tensing up a little. It had been hard work to do, but it was supposed to be for a good cause. "If you insist," Dr Hale said with that perfect amount of sarcasm. She did not look happy with him, but it seemed that using their time well was more important. Even that slight pause allowed another few lights to disappear. Only four remained. "When the time hits, I will be injecting you with another biological enhancer. It will stop the previous injection from having an effect but will cause side-effects in a few hours. Expect to have mild spasms in your fingers, and make sure to hold important items with both hands." Good. This time, she was warning him of the injection beforehand, while also giving a list of the prominent side-effects. Troy could only guess that it would be fun not being able to hold a cup of coffee without the chance of spilling the liquid on himself. It was not going to be enjoyable. He could already guess that. "And the plan itself?" Troy asked, encouraging the woman to continue. There were still three lights left. Not enough to explain in full detail, but enough to give him a general introduction. Enough to have some semblance of understanding. Right now, he was in the dark about everything she had planned. The time had come for that to not be the case. "I will tell what you need to know when we get to it," Dr Hale answered. "We will sit in silence when the device stops working. Move when I begin to move. Before it is completely stopped, however, there is one thing which I need you to understand." "And? What is that?" Troy asked, being a small bit curious about it. "I need for you to trust me through the entirety of this. Questionable tasks will be given. It will not make sense. However, I need you to trust me, or we will both meet our demise. We are working on borrowed time," Dr Hale stated, being more serious than Troy had seen in a long time. "We are already in a questionable state with Dr Fidelis. If anything causes us to abandon our task, we will not live to see the weekend. Do you understand?" "I have followed your word this far," Troy said, not even hesitating. "I don''t see any reason to stop now." With those words said, the final lights disappeared. The two fell silent, not meeting each other¡¯s eyes. For once, Troy did not mind looking at the white wall. He had hated every second of it before, yet it now had a reason for it. He understood why he had to wait. There was a purpose. Soon, he would be out of this place. Or, he would die trying. The minutes passed fast. Faster than Troy had expected. Was this the feeling of certainty? He knew exactly what he needed to do, and his mind was able to focus on that emotion with crystal-like clarity. It was¡­ a great emotion to have. Especially in a time like that. Even without having the injection yet, Troy could feel his heart beginning to beat. Was it adrenaline beginning to flow through his vein? His legs were beginning to grow less tired, his body preparing for what would be the run of his life. He was aching to move out of the bed, to be ready for the fight that he needed to have. But, he did not. He needed to wait, no matter what his body told him. To follow the way of Dr Hale was to follow the way of the right. She sat still as if she was waiting for something interesting to happen for once. She looked utterly bored. She did not look ready to fight for her life. Troy needed to copy that. He needed to calm himself, to make his face like stone, and to seem indifferent to the white wall staring back at him. He needed to act like nothing was wrong, like he was as tired as he had been earlier. Deep breath made the heartbeat a bit slower than before. It was not by much, but it made the redness of his face falter the slightest bit. He needed composure. He needed- Like lightning, Dr Hale jumped from her seat. From seemingly nowhere, another needle was in her hand. Troy was ready for it this time, doing nothing to stop the stab into his shoulder. Now, it might just have been him, but the young man briefly thought he could feel his pupils widening. Chapter 234: Lamination
In under a minute, the two had left the room. Troy used the time inside getting used to moving around his body again. There was still some sluggishness in his limbs when they went outside, yet he could feel it disappearing by the second. Whatever had been injected, it was filling him up with what his body had been needing for so long. He felt rested, full of energy, and ready to risk his life for the sake of another¡­ maybe. There was still some inner discussion on that topic. Not that he spent too long thinking about it. Down the hallways they went, pacing in perfect tandem. They did not run, and neither did they make themselves look like they were in a hurry. To each person they passed by, they would seem like a perfectly ordinary pair of people, having a little stroll on their way to work. Troy was a little proud of how well he was keeping himself together. The initial confusion of not knowing where they were going was prominent in the start, but it disappeared in the end, replaced with the trust that Dr Hale knew exactly what she was doing., Him questioning anything at this point would only be harmful. Though, it was a little confusing, not knowing where they went. By the walls, it was clear that they hadn''t been going over to where they had been before. The designs were changing from playfulness to straight lines, devoid of any emotion. It was akin to a step up in the world, where one took a sacrifice for the sake of professionalism. Troy didn''t like it. While there had been a slowness to their movements, it was further slowed down as they went closer to whatever was the centre of the current area. People were standing in the hallway in groups, blocking the way for everybody moving through it. Granted, Troy was decently sure that he and Dr Hale were the only ones doing so, but it was still improper of them. Or, it might have been them not holding up the standards, as people were giving them dirty looks. The next was crueller than the one before as if Troy was just continually kicking a few puppies, and having the time of his life doing it. He did not understand why, until the very moment that they reached the end of the grouping together. Dr Hale pushed a few people to the side, as a counter revealed itself from the crowd. In the wall was what looked to be a small desk, where one old man was looking as annoyed as the standard cashier in the retail stores of old. That annoyed, tired look into their eyes was of one who had been desensitized with nearly anything including demotions, bodily harm, and a surprising amount of mental castrations. "Mara," the old man stated, not looking more or less bothered when seeing the two standing before him. "Get back in line. I have it in a good ear that you haven''t gotten permission to skip it." "Jeff," Dr Hale greeted back, showing off a similar lack of being bothered by the dead-end stares being shown off. "We have a Code Epsilon. I have it on good authority that lines are to be ignored in times like these." If there had been an expectation of the old man, who Troy now knew was named Jeff, taking the situation more seriously after hearing the buzz words, that dream had already been destroyed. Really, the most obvious thing the man did was to lean back a little more in his chair, and make a sigh so loud and long that there had been worries about him having a stroke. He was clearly not one to take his task at another¡¯s pace. "What is that, the second one in two weeks?" Jeff asked, getting out of his chair, the man¡¯s back popping back in place as it was stretched by the slightest amount. "That code is for emergencies of the highest order. If you have two of those in so little time, we either need to remake the code-levels, or you need to reevaluate your work-values. What changed? You weren''t having this a month ago. Is it because of that new guy behind you?" The focus was put back on Troy for the most minute of moments. The people who had been skipped in the line were looking over at him, redirecting the blame from the woman in front of him. Easy sacrifices were the easiest to harvest, after all. The only thing he could do was to stand straight and hope to not be slaughtered too quickly. "The reasons are above your clearance," Dr Hale stated with no tone for patience. The weight of her words drew the attention back on her, away from the shoulders of one who could not hold himself up for long. A silent thanks was given out. "Do your job with the expected speed, and I will not be sending out a complaint to the office." "Empty threats? You must be getting really desperate nowadays. There ain''t nothing that can get me out of here," Jeff said with a smile filled with half as many teeth as there were supposed to be. It unnerved most there to a point where the hairs raised on their necks. This man had clearly been there for some time now. Thinking over it, it might just have been the oldest man Troy had seen. He had to be over eighty, bordering on ninety-something. That he was still working was a miracle in and of itself. "What do you need, sweetcheeks? Another batch of implant enhancers? If so, we are all out." "I need a Ka-Bar, a dose of non-toxic sedative-based gas, and two first-aid kits," Dr Hale listed off easily, Troy only guessing what some of them were. The last one was easy enough to understand, but the two first only brought questions to his mind. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "What exactly do you need a knife for?" Jeff asked, sounding closer to curious than anything else. The man was clearly not worrying about what it would be used for. Troy, however, was indeed worried, not understanding what good a knife would do them. "Emergency situations warrant a lack of questions asked, to stop any unwanted leaks of information. If you want to be directly blamed for potential war, I will gladly tell you," Dr Hale fired back, not taking any of the man''s curiosity. "Oh, take a joke once in a while, please. Honestly, you people need to have a smoke break every now and then. You just can''t do anything but be some snappy-" Jeff continued, out of what anybody could hear. When the man took a few steps back, likely to grab what was asked for, the man became impossible to listen after. The voice just stopped being sent through. Rapidly, as more steps were taken, the man became imperceptible, seemingly swallowed by an unstoppable blackness. How it was done, as the room was well-lit only a few meters before, was something he could not understand at all. Not that he had time to wonder about it for too long, of course, as Jeff came back only a few seconds after the fact, seemingly able to find everything within mere seconds. Was it all next to each other or something? "Do tap yourself with the pointy end, pull the clasp when you want to, and I think you know how to use these," Jeff said to each other the objects, as he put it all on the counter. The knife was dropped into one of Dr Hale¡¯s inner pockets, with a speed that nearly made it impossible for Troy to see it, to begin with. The dose of gas was put inside the woman¡¯s sleeve, hidden in a place they would not be found. Lastly, the first-aid kits were handed to Troy for safekeeping. Nothing was said to him about it, but he went along with it anyway. "Do you have time to sign anything, or do you have to hurry over to your so-called emergency now?" "We will be leaving. Goodbye, Jeff," Dr Hale said, that last part seeming a little different than the first. How was it different though? The weight was the same, the tone as well, and the speed¡­ no, the speed was a little faster, as if the woman did not want to say to start with. Troy did not question it, as they moved forward again, going further down the hallway. "Not even going to walk the same way back," was heard in mumbles behind them, but it was not heard for long, as their steps were as quick as before. Troy just focused on having the first-aid kits in his hand, not questioning anything. With the kits in hand, it might have seemed suspicious. Yet, people seemed to be lacking perception of the area around them, as there were next to no looks their way. It had changed from before. Was the difference of having something in one¡¯s hand so important? Or¡­ maybe it was because of just where they were. The people walking by them were not of the best minds, as they were diluted up top by a poison made for the most social of events. Some could not stand by themselves, helped by others to move forward. Some had fallen already, left behind by their so-called comrades. And some looked to have a great time in the hallway, looking to be either dancing or fighting. No hands hit other¡¯s face, but it looked so terrible that it could not possibly have been made out to be a dance. One did not need to think for a lot of time, as their location became more obvious with every step. While Troy might have been walking towards it from another way, even he could recognize some of the signs on the walls. They were at the shopping district, outside the entrance to it. Those drunk avoided the entrance like the plague. Maybe they had been kicked out, having drunk too much while inside it. Troy would have doubted it. "Open it up," Dr Hale instructed him, the woman looking a little impatient in the millisecond that it took the young man to think the request through. He had wondered why she could not do it herself, before realising that she had not been allowed to walk inside it herself for some time. She had been kicked out permanently after an incident that included her, though he could still not remember what it had been. Not that he had any intention of finding out now, as he went over to the wall to put in the code. He had memorized it after being put through it so many times. Charlie had apparently taken it as a personal offence when he had said that he did not know the code by heart. Half an hour of moving fingers through the air had rectified that problem, Troy never able to remember it, even if he wanted to. With swift movements, he put in the code. The door opened up without question, allowing the two into the shopping district. Thinking back, Troy was sure that there had been some other name for it, yet he was wholly unable to remember it anymore. Nobody really used it, for anything other than formal naming-events, and he had not been able to witness even one of those. It was of no matter, as Dr Hale was already walking swiftly ahead. Even with her smaller stature, her force was not one to be trifled with. The mass of people standing around was pushed to the side, and Troy just did his best to follow through. She was like a bulldozer inside a mass of parked cars. Anything in her way was pushed, crushed, or stepped aside before they came under a death-stare. They walked like that for a few seconds, before the woman took a sharp step left. Looking up briefly, he saw just what they were walking towards. During his tour, Charlie had mentioned it as one of the oldest buildings still standing. It was supposed to have been one of the grand pieces but was supposedly not as popular as it had been before. A shame, as it still looked wonderful. What had been its name again? Something about it being nowhere. Troy only really remembered that a crafty man had been the owner of it. Dr Hale pulled the young man ahead, as he had been slow on the uptake. It was nice to know that the woman was making sure that he was coming along, even if it was embarrassing to be pulled along. No matter, though, as much worse could have happened. The door inside was not easily opened, but a shove with the shoulder opened it up easily enough. It was well-lit inside, but nothing of worth could be seen. There were no tables, no chairs, and nothing except the floor, walls, and roof. Even the windows were darkened, stopping him from looking inside. Charlie had theorized china-plates to be inside. That there was nothing at all was¡­ anticlimactic. Not that this meant that Dr Hale was slowing down at all, the woman going up the stairs in the back. They cracked slightly. Troy did his best not to wonder how brittle they were. There was clearly a lack of repairs done. People were truly never inside here. Having gotten up the stairs, a sharp left led them into another hallway that led into¡­ nowhere? There was nothing. The hallway ended with a wall, no way to get into the sides. The stairs led up to no rooms, nothing other than a short place to stand. What was going on? "We will be going over to the hidden side of the facility now. Follow my step, don''t walk more than you need, and only talk when I ask you something. The place is trapped, and I do not need us to be the victims of an unwanted decapitation," Dr Hale said, drawing the knife from her pocket. Troy could only wonder how serious she was, as she pricked the side of one of her fingers, making the blood come out in droves. Chapter 235: Judication
Troy was perfectly honest when he wasn''t expecting to see somebody smear their own blood on the wall of an old building, looking to make a round insignia of some kind. It was a haunting thing, as the woman seemed to be having trouble getting enough blood out. Dr Hale had to stop every five seconds, so she could get out more of the blood. It was not a haunting sight, really. He had seen worse in person before. It was only eerie. They were the only two there. The only things heard were the sounds of them breathing, Dr Hale¡¯s finger tracing her work again and again, and Troy shuffling his feet every now and again. It was not something he had prepared himself to see, making the sight throw him off slightly. Blood was smeared in the same places again and again. After some time, blood refused to come out, making the woman switch the finger being used. Again and again, these switches had to happen, as she failed to get whatever reaction she wanted. The time spent doing it made her seem irritated as if she had expected it to take less time. Troy said nothing about it, doing his best to act like nothing. He was silent through it all, just as he had been instructed to be. It was hard. He was worried about her losing too much blood. There might have been a lot to take from, yet there similarly had to be a limit on how much could be taken. It could not end well if it was allowed to continue. He could not understand what the insignia was supposed to be. Troy had never seen it before. Like before, the most signifying piece of it would be the circle, everything else being inside it. What looked like letters were inside. It was symbols, more like it. He could not find out what they were supposed to be, looking more like a curved a than anything else. Yet¡­ what did that mean? Why was she so concentrated on making it perfect? She made the lines without smudges, making everything inside coloured red with her blood. It was better than any paintings seen before. Why did it need to be better? No questions were asked, no matter how much he wanted to ask them. He just continued watching, overlooking her condition. Troy was ready to swoop in if she fell, figuring out how to best protect her head. Yet this never happened. After five minutes of diligent work, there was finally a reaction. From behind the blood, the wall seemed to light up, going up and down the red liquid. From a guess, it was being analyzed. It took a long time, longer than the standard card-reader. But, this was also a literal painting of blood. There were times where one could be patient. The red light stopped after some seconds, a white one replacing it. All the hard work put into the insignia disappeared, as the blood dissipated in some way. To replace the loss, the wall opened up to reveal a hallway. This one was not as lit up like the others, lamps only showing themselves once every ten meters. A good part of the place was left in the shadows, leaving Troy to wonder what was hidden. He was not privy to finding out, as Dr Hale clearly avoided touching anything not touched by the light. She would take a longer step every now and then, and Troy did his best to imitate it. Walking where he was not supposed would only bring ill effects, and what exactly those were, he was not keen to figure out himself. Doing this dance of emulation, the two walked for some time. The hallway would continue turning itself, spreading out again and again. It was like a maze, many openings showing themselves again and again. It was all identical, yet he could not figure out any pattern to it. Dr Hale would go right, left, forward, and even back the way they went randomly. Troy was not sure how it was memorized, yet it all helped them get forwards in some way. It would help them with the success, and that was all that mattered. After nearly ten minutes of doing so, Dr Hale did something new. Taking a sharp right, she¡­ stepped into the shadows. The same second her foot stepped into it was the second that she disappeared from sight. Most of her body had still been in the light, yet it was removed from his sight as well. She was not pulled suddenly through, for he would have heard it. What had happened? Well¡­ Troy had to follow his instructions and continue forth. There was nothing else he could do. Standing still would only spell disaster for him. He would not be able to go back either, for he could not remember more than the last ten steps made. Taking the step, he was ready to close his eyes. There was no idea about what would happen, and that scared him slightly. Yet, that did not stop him, for he needed to do what he intended to. A mild sensation of falling was felt, and then he stood on solid ground again. What had happened? Looking back, he could not recognize where he had been just a second before. The hallway was now lit up fully, but it was not the same one he had seen before. This one did not curve or split up. It was forward and back, for as long as he could see. Nothing was there, except him and Dr Hale. How were they to progress from here? The woman had been nice, waiting for him to continue. She had clearly been expecting him to hesitate. Troy wondered for how long she had been willing to wait for him. A minute? Maybe ten? At some point, she would have needed to continue. Dr Fidelis would not be away for that long more, and they would need to have been done by then. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "Are you ready to continue?" Dr Hale asked softly, not raising her voice. It was clear that she needed him to do the same. "Yes," Troy answered with the same volume. He looked around once more, trying to figure out where they needed to go. The woman¡¯s stillness did not spell well. "Good. Be quiet in your steps from now on, and be ready to stop at the same time as me. We are in a delicate situation." After answering her with a nod, Dr Hale moved forward. Her steps were without any sound, matching the rooms lack of movement. Even her breathing was muffled, Troy not able to hear it without straining his ears. What good would he be, if he would not copy this? The first step forward felt like thunder in comparison to hers. The long tunnel was a terrible place to be quiet, the echoes carrying on for a long time. Every step taken after the first only made the echoes grow a little more. Constant adjustments to make it quieter did nothing to stop it, only delaying the sound from growing evermore. How did she do it so well? For how long did she practice for this? Years upon years of lining the plan up perfectly, culminating into this. He needed to make it as well, only given the time he had right now. He needed to be quiet. Quieter than he had ever been before. Soft footsteps, deep breaths, and a calm mind made it all possible, yet he needed to take the chance. Step after step was made, and it all made her seem so more dedicated to it all. Troy could only begin threading the footsteps of becoming silent, while she was already a master at it all. He needed to copy, he needed to take her technique and improve upon it. And so, he did. Not well. Not even close to well. He was terrible. Yet, he continued doing it all, until the very moment that he became decent. The echoes were quieter than his breath, and that was one thing he could not improve upon. It was not perfect, but it could not be improved upon now. Given a month or two, it could take one step closer to the perfect, yet that would not work. Troy did his best, and it worked at some level. And this work to improve was nearly how he ruined it all, as he nearly took one step too much, not realizing that Dr Hale had stopped in front of him. It was only her physically holding her shoulders, a death-stare sent directly into his irises, that made him come to his senses. Neither spoke, for neither dared to make the slightest sound. Why this was, Troy could not know. He only trusted that Dr Hale understood it better than him. The woman moving to the wall again made him twitch. Were they going to have another batch of blood smearing? He hoped it would not be as so, as she had already lost enough of it. Would the woman make it if that happened? Troy¡¯s worries were fortunately without reason, as Dr Hale only put her hand onto the wall. A brief time of pressure put on it made all resistance go away, the hand disappearing within. That part of the wall was only an illusion, as Troy could now clearly see. Only the sound came out now. A flick of switches was heard before the woman audibly sighed. The young man could only falter slightly from the loud voice heard. Were they not meant to be quiet? What happened now? ¡­ Nothing. Nothing of note came out. They were not immediately injured. Neither were they assaulted by a loud alarm. If anything, the echoes were just there. Was there an error of some kind? "We can rest briefly," Dr Hale stated, sitting down against the wall. The woman did not look to be filled with strength, as she had been just seconds before. "There are few blockades left, and the one before us now will need the precision that I don''t currently have. Give me one of the first-aid kits." Seeing her in so weak a position was not what Troy had expected to see. Yet, there were many things he had not expected to see today. One more was not out of the chances. He just handed her the small box. Dr Hale wasted no time in opening it up. There was a variety of small bandages, bottles of disinfectant, and a few drinks of some kind. The first two were thrown out of the way, the doctor downing all the remaining drinks inside. It looked to have burned her throat, a few coughs coming out after the fact. "Are you supposed to drink that?" Troy asked, more than a little worried for the woman. He did not want any damage to her. "Not in these amounts, no," Dr Hale answered, getting back up from the floor. The woman looked back to her normal levels of strength, if only in a temporary. "However, it will help do what I need to do now." Bringing out the knife once again, Dr Hale threw it down the hallway. It got out five meters before it was hit with¡­ something, cutting it right in half. "I just needed to be sure," Dr Hale muttered. "Before us is a three-dimensional mine-field. It will cut through anything we have. It stopped moving when I hit the switch, but it doesn''t look to have turned off entirely." "How exactly are we supposed to get to the other side, then?" Troy asked. "I am reasonably sure what point the movements stopped. If I am correct¡­" Dr Hale said, not finishing her words as she took two steps forward. Troy could only watch in horror, expecting some part of her to be cut off cleanly. However¡­ nothing of that sort happened. "Yes. I have a decent grasp of where it all is. Troy, follow my movements. We need to get through to progress. Also, walk forward with your head down. There are parts where you could be decapitated if it was raised." ¡­ Saying a mental prayer to whoever would listen, Troy moved forward, doing his best not to worry about any potential death-rays coming his way. It was hard not to turn his head, him walking slouched to match the height of the doctor perfectly. His arms were straight to his sides, no way he would be going to have them stretched out at any point. A long time was spent on it, making sure neither of them was hurt in any way. Dr Hale herself was grazed slightly on the left side. It was not deep, but it clearly was a painful endeavour. It had burned straight through clothing, taking the outer layer of skin. Troy had made sure to avoid the spot, when he followed through a few seconds later, as the injury did not stop the woman in the slightest from moving forward. When they finally got out of the invisible maze of death, a part of the second first-aid kit was spent on making sure Dr Hale was alright. Troy had to help her with it. It was hard to do, but it was done well enough to be usable. "Where to now?" Troy asked the woman. In response, Dr Hale went over to another part of the wall, this one on the other side from before. There was not much of a surprise when her hand passed through a section, the young man guessing that there would be some form of an illusion. What did surprise him was the click of a button and the slow descent of a ladder from above. "We have reached the testing room," Dr Hale answered, testing out the stability of it. "We only need to climb up to it." Chapter 236: Timulation
With heavy pushes, the floor above gave in and allowed itself to be moved away. Troy felt a small amount of sweat run down his back, as he was finally allowed to stand on something that wasn''t a damned, iron ladder. His feet were sending negative feedback through his legs, and they were not happy about it. Lying on the ground for a few seconds was a luxury that could not be used, yet the body was not of thought to stop it from happening. He could at least wait until Dr Hale got up herself. From the start, she had told him that she would be unable to do it herself, that the entrance itself was too hard to push away for her. She might have been able to do it herself if she was in peak conditions, but the wound on her arm was too restrictive. It would not have allowed her to use it at all. Yet another reason that Troy was needed, it seemed. She was the mind, and he was the brute. Damn, he was a bad brute, however. Couldn''t even move a small stone without needing a break afterwards. His shoulder was already hating him, the previous wound not liking the pressure put on it. He would need to get himself together. "We need to move," Dr Hale said, as she came up in the testing room as well. "We don''t have much time left." "Of course. I¡¯ll be right there," Troy said. It took immense will-power to get himself off that sweet floor, but it was just another sacrifice in the grand scheme. One had to break a few moral laws to get what they wanted. With him, it was to get off the floor, even if it looked so inviting to sleep on¡­ damn. How desperate he must have been if the cold, hard floor looked like a good option for a bed. It wasn''t even that late yet. Looking around the room, a weird feeling spread through his mind. Dr Fidelis was not here. The doctor who was always seen here somewhere was not present. How weird was that? He had been a staple of the location. He had been what filled it up with its pressure, making Troy feel uncomfortable with it all. Now that the man was not here, there was a definite feeling of¡­ nothing. Nothing was felt. Troy just had it as a regular room, no strange feelings attached to it. How peculiar that was. Dr Hale moved to the screen, turning it on with but a few presses. Troy joined her, standing beside to watch. There wasn''t anything stopping from watching, and he had been interested in what was happening. "Under the desk, would you please press the red button," Dr Hale requested, not looking away from her work. It was clear that she was trying to be quick about it, so the young man just did his best to oblige her wishes. Getting down on his knees, Troy was surprised to find the underside of the desk filled with buttons. Every colour of the rainbow was present, and the grey-scale was not far behind. There were no tags on any of them, making the man briefly wonder how Dr Fidelis kept track of it all. Troy could not dream of the doctor having to go down on his knees every time he wanted to press them. Was it all muscle-memory perhaps. That would certainly have caused a few mishaps before. Not wanting to tempt fate, he just hurried up in finding the bright red button. With a quick tap, the button was pressed, and the man was able to stand up again. The screen itself had invented its colours. A few of the options to the side had disappeared, and a few new ones had appeared. Another side to keep certain features secret perhaps? Troy certainly would not have understood what was before him. However¡­ with the lowered speed of Dr Hale¡¯s movements, it seemed that she was the one meant to have information hidden from. She had clearly not had enough time to get used to the needed commands, having to slowly go through the needed movements. It was almost half the speed as before, making it understandable why she had tried to make as much so quickly before. She needed some wriggle room so as to not miss anything important up. "What are you doing exactly?" Troy asked, feeling that the speed was slow enough that he could ask questions. He had already just stood by, silently watching whatever she did. There was nothing stopping him now. No traps that would cause death, no invisible death mazes that needed to be dealt with, and certainly no lies needing to be told to everybody. He could survive doing more than copying a statue, only moving between oddly-timed blinks. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "Preparing the extraction," Dr Hale flatly answered. The woman did not seem incredibly bothered by his question, answering it with no problem shown. "Modifications are required to be made if this is to work as it should. Press the yellow button now." Her work had momentarily halted, as she had seemingly finished what she needed to do on the current page. Troy was quick to move so as to satisfy her request. The quicker they were, the quicker they would be out of the place. The clock was ticking, and he wasn''t exactly sure how long they had left before there would be problems. Clicking the button, he moved right back to watching the screen again. This time, the colouration seemed to take one to the side, everything gaining a blue overtone. It was peculiar to watch. "Is this the last point, then?" Troy asked, looking over the entrance to the testing room. That door needed to stay closed, not being opened from the outside. Or could it be opened from the outside? There had to be a way for the doctor to get inside by himself, but Troy was not sure how that worked. Perhaps a door from the side? Just because he couldn''t see it did not mean that it wasn''t there. "You just need to do this, and then we can leave?" "This is not the last step into extracting Adam, and it''s not close to the last task before we can leave the facility," Dr Hale answered, putting pressure on just how much they still needed to get done. The man should have seen that coming. If it was this easy, the woman would have done it years ago. "The current task will only allow us to do anything close to extracting the AI. The actual process will require¡­ press the green button." Troy did as asked, and jumped more than a little as the floor behind them began to move. It was only a small section of it, yet the sound was still significant enough to be felt in the bones. This was not a section used a lot, and it certainly wasn''t something that was open for repairs. Just what- "Go over and grab the storage container. We will need it in a minute," Dr Hale said, counting her work. She looked to be speeding up again, hinting that she would soon be done with whatever she had been doing on the screen. Walking over to the pedestal that had lifted itself from the ground, there was indeed a storage device on it. It was about the size of a small trinket, a thin rectangle that could have been more than seven centimetres at the longest side. Was this¡­ this was meant to be Adam¡¯s new residence, wasn''t it? They were moving him from whatever large contraption to over here. Would that not be dangerous? How big was Adam? "Okay, I have it," Troy said. He walked back to the doctor, who looked to just be finishing up the final details. Her feet were already pointed away from the desk, ready to move towards the puzzle- Wait. "Where are we going to extract Adam exactly?" "The puzzle room," Dr Hale answered, already moving towards the large contraption. Troy fell in behind her, his body moving before he could question it. "A large part of it is disabled, but there are still a few features active. It would be best to stay without two meters of me, or you will likely lose a limb or two." "Why did Dr Fidelis hide Adam inside here?" Troy asked. He did not understand. "It was made as a precautionary. It is impossible to get it without disabling the main-parts of the room. One would be physically unable to reach the place, while also unable to get out of the puzzle-room. A perfect trap. Any attempts to get in through destroying the machine would only cause a larger than average explosion to commence, killing whoever thought themselves to be a traitor. Again, it is a thoughtful idea for any person who thinks that they could steal decades of work," Dr Hale answered, stepping inside the puzzle room, with Troy following just a second after her. The place was still a white void. However, looking back revealed that the entrance didn''t disappear, staying in place. As the two walked further away, so did it increase the distance. She had certainly not been lying about the removal of features, this not being possible in any normal situation. "But you knew exactly what to do, letting you steal the unstealable," Troy said, summarizing it all into one sentence. It was weird. At any second, he was expecting Adam to say hi, asking if his breakfast, lunch, or dinner had been good. It was so surreal, everything just being so still. Nothing really moved inside them. "One could say that, yes," Dr Hale said, briefly stopping to touch something in front of her. What looked to be static stopped her from moving further ahead. "We have reached the wall. Watch your step. It should be somewhere on the wall here." What exactly it was was still up for debate, as both began to look around together. Something was hidden on the ground, and it would be the needed key to reach the AI. The size was questionable, the colour was not yet known fully, and how it looked was completely up for debate. And somehow, Troy managed to trip over it, his foot being catched by it. There was of course nothing broken from the fall, other than his pride, and it did allow them to find the secret place. It was a ring handle, easily grabbed to allow for a large trap-door to open up. Not that either of the two could go inside what was revealed, as there was a massive set-up of computer parts under. It was all set together in mitch-match, somehow still standing. Most importantly, however, was the appearance of a screen inside it, identical to the one that was outside the puzzle room. With a few presses, the screen turned on, revealing a text-bar that Troy could recognize from everywhere. "We can send messages to him from here, right?" Troy asked, just to be sure. Dr Hale took the storage container from the man¡¯s hand, plugging it into the set-up below by using one of the cords available. "Yes. I will begin to prepare the extraction. Now, talk to Adam and make him go along with it. We need him to say yes to it." Okay. Troy just needed this to work. He only hoped that it would be fast. Chapter 237: Hateration
There was something so frustrating about puzzles. Adam did not know what it was, but he certainly felt it deep inside. Especially the complex ones, always making the AI think he understood them before shattering his bad view of reality. A carefully crafted answer could be rendered useless so quickly, and there was nothing one could do other than just start over again. In the start, he had fully believed the puzzle game to be beneath him. It had been easier than almost anything else he could have ever done. And, in the first hour or so of filling out the answer, everything was smooth with no hard set-ups. The system of puzzles was the same constantly, of course. If not, there would have been nothing to base his results on. When he first started, he was told a simple goal. He would need to bring a moving target over to a designated position with the help of directional tools set up. It could have been best described as mirrors being used. Again, this was easy. During the first of the first, the only requirement had been to press the start, and watch the figure slowly move in a straight line until it hit the goal. In the next one, the AI was made to put a single mirror down that would allow for the figure to make a right turn. In the one after that, there had been a barrier in the way, making it so that Adam needed to use a few more mirrors to navigate it. And so it continued for the first hour. The only hardships had been to fill out the needed places. The only hindrances were the barriers, where the figure could not move through, and the end-goals. It was after that time that things started to get interesting. The first restriction that had any notable effect on the AI would be the limited resource allocation. There was only an allowance on so many blocks of a certain kind, only so many mirrors that were allowed to stand a certain way. It was not the hardest task in the world, yet it made it so that the AI needed to think a bit more. Then came the time restriction. The levels needed to be done in a certain time-frame. A max, one could call it. Again, not the hardest rule to combat, as Adam was already efficient with his work. Only, it required him to rethink a few of his ways to do things. As the final basic restriction came one adjustment on the end-goals, where there was a restriction on just where they could come in from. Since the puzzle was based on two dimensions, there were four possible ways the figure could come from. This was not cut into one passable way. That had been annoying, to the point where the AI had actually been stuck on a level for some time. And it only grew harsher from there. Speeds began to be introduced, making the figure able to speed up and slow down, but also creating consequences for both changes. Too slow would mean that the time-restriction would come into play while being too fast would create damage to the figure to the point where it would not survive its journey. There were also moving barriers. At first, they had designated routes to follow. But after a while, they were made to try encircling the figure. One could throw them off temporarily by increasing speed, but that had obvious consequences, as one could guess. All of this was all well and fun. It was hard, it was gruelling, but hard brute-force allowed the AI to overcome it all. It was when the enemy figures came along that things started to become hard. They were not dummies that shot when facing the enemy. Those figures actively combed areas to figure out where Adam¡¯s figure was. It took three direct shots before the figure would not survive the damage. And it could also be shot through barriers, six of those shots being enough to kill. After that, extra layers began being added. Space got restricted even further, layers were built on and on as it all became more complicated. It was chaos that needed to be understood. There was not a single layer that could be overlooked. There were thirty, all interconnected in some ways. It could have been a concealed tunnel, an open ladder, or even what seemed to be short-distance teleportation. Everything was used to make it possible for Adam to escort the figure over to its destination. Finally, the AI had come to one more addition to the playing field. It was akin to real-time interaction. Instead of planning everything out beforehand and then watching the figure move out, Adam was now expected to interact with the puzzle in some ways. He could activate triggers for noise-making to distract enemies, there were three charges for directly killing an enemy. This allowed a direct influence on how scenarios played. As the puzzles had grown to the point where they would take close to ten minutes to fully play out, even the smallest of pushes made all the difference. The smallest change in interactions, being down to the millisecond, could change how enemies would react. He needed to be precise. And that was exactly what he was doing. Adam had planned it all out to perfection. He had done the current level seven times already. He had made the winnable strategy. A large mass of enemies had been gathered in a small area, having been made to think they would successfully ambush the figure. He had even skirted the actual figure around a few times to make them think that they had circled in on him when it was already long gone. But, if allowed to move, they would have realised the actual locations. This was why Adam needed to use pre-made explosives to incapacitate them permanently. The only important thing was to get them all in one blow, or the plan would be screwed. Everything else had been perfect. All that was needed was the enemies would be destroyed fully. Then he would win. It was a pixel-perfect trigger, and the time was growing closer and closer. The AI had thought about slowing himself down further to make it easier to do it but had decided against it. Anything related to temporal manipulation was being saved for later when he could earnestly begin the study that had just been seen a few hours before. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Half a second was left, and Adam was readying himself. It crept closer slowly, yet he knew it would jump the second his focus left it. So, he continued his watchful staring. He saw it fall in half, becoming a quarter of a second until it was time. Then it was an eighth of a second. It was truly close when it became the sixteenth, the AI already inching toward the trigger, knowing it would be- ''Adam, this is Troy. Are you getting this?"` was sent to the AI, through one of the unused ports, one that he had never expected to be used now of all times. And the message¡­ Eight words. That had been what was needed for Adam to miss the timing, to watch his entire extremely convoluted plan crumble before his eyes, not doing a thing to stop it. It all passed by so quickly. In the real world, less than a second had gone by, yet it felt so long for the AI. Had he understood it? Had he somehow misread it? It should not have been possible to do, yet there was no reason that the impossible was permanent in its status. However, rereading it again and again was bringing no different results, no matter how many times he tried it. If he was having an error, it had been there since the start. So, for all intents and purposes, he was currently receiving a message from Troy, a man who should not have been able to message him. The man was supposed to have been resting, while under medical surveillance. He was not supposed to be in the vicinity of anything capable of messaging him, nor should he have had an opportunity to do so. Dr Fidelis had directly stated that any communication between them would be impossible, that Adam should not have been one to bear the pain of talking to a clouded mind. Troy was supposed to be having mental delusions! Adam could not tolerate this. How was it again? Dr Fidelis had described the current symptoms to be an inability to find the difference between truth and imagination. If Adam had imagined anybody as anything, he would look at that as fact. The doctor had given him the example of Dr Fidelis being looked at as Troy¡¯s father, a position that did not correlate with reality in any way. However, the AI had been able to see where the distinction had come from, the doctor likely being in the same age-group. And then¡­ if this was Troy, it likely meant that he looked at Adam as something other than he was he. Something that he imagined the AI to be. It could have been theoretically anything, yet the actual results were more narrow in possibilities. And the AI had a semi-good idea of just what that could be. However, could it be that Dr Fidelis had changed his mind? It could have been a miraculous recovery, some trigger making Troy snap back to reality, and being able to stop floating around in his own world. Since the AI had asked to hear from him, it could have been an idea. The doctor was the kind of person who would do something like this, so it needed to be taken into consideration. Now¡­ how exactly was Adam going to figure out if this was what was actually going on? It could have been that this was not an intentional design, that Troy should not have been able to contact him. If that was so, he had to figure out immediately, so that he could adhere to the doctor¡¯s wishes, more for his own sake than anything else. How about a general question? If Troy was not able to find the truth from the fake, could he ask back to their shared past? That sounded well enough, as long as he only asked about things that were within what the doctor knew about. The AI could disguise it as a security precaution, while also making sure that everything mental-based was in mint condition. ''How can I know that you are Troy?` Adam sent back, putting up a solid defence for his questions. ''Because I said that it was me? Though, that might not work for text-based communication. I would take an earpiece, but I don''t have any on me. Dr Hale took the one that I had before,` was sent back, already giving out a clue that it was perhaps a sane mind. Though, this was not a concrete fact yet, as Adam himself was also not sure if Dr Hale had actually taken the earpiece. The AI had guessed at that being the case, but there had not been any direct confirmation of the fact. ''Text is indeed a lacking feature. Is the doctor not able to provide any earpiece at the moment? I do believe that there were multiple in circulation,` Adam sent out in response, giving a brief detour to the possibility of Troy directly using an earpiece. It would make it all faster. The young man was not a fast typer, and it was impacting the speed of conversation to a great degree. Even more distressing was the time spent between the actual typing. Adam could only guess that the extra time was spent in verbal discussion. If not, it did not spell anything for the positive side. ''Dr Hale says that we don''t have any right now. Dr Fidelis carries them all with him nowadays, apparently. Is there anything else I can do to prove that I am myself?` Troy sent back soon enough, taking more time than he should have. No earpiece available, due to the doctor having them all on him. It did not take much deduction to realise that Dr Fidelis was not present to begin with. This was not inherently negative. The man was supposed to spend a large part of the day filling out legal documents. It was always a possibility that Dr Hale had used long-distance communication to discuss the possibility of Troy talking to him. The technology was readily available after all. ''I have prepared a series of questions that the person known as Troy should easily be able to answer. The first would be to describe an example of what a so-called favour had been used for,` Adam sent out, being happy with the degree that the man was helping him lead on the conversation. He needed to be quick about it. ''One of the favours given was to sleep with the earpiece on,` Troy responded. An easy example of something that actually happened. A definite point in the man¡¯s direction. Another question was already being lined up. One about the man personally. ''Good. Another question would be how Troy enjoys his tea,` Adam sent. He legitimately had no idea on this one. He knew that the man enjoyed it, but not much more than that. There might have been a certain type, but it had never officially been stated. ''In as small an amount as possible, so no more time than necessary spent doing it,` Troy sent back. It¡­ held up with how Adam saw it. The man was weirdly focused on being efficient after the AI had told him so much about it. It was still not enough to make it sway, but he had a good amount of material. Now, he just needed to. ''Hey, Adam, not to rush you or anything, but Dr Hale says that I have to hurry it up. Would you please decide if I am Troy or not? Maybe just limit it to a few more questions- Nope. Scratch that. Dr Hale says that even one more question is cutting corners. Please hurry.` They were in a hurry. Multiple possible reasons. There was likely tiredness in the man, making him incapable of having conversations for a long time. That could have been why the previous answers were so vague. There were of course other possible reasons for this, many pointing towards self-delusion, but the AI decided to focus on the positives first. Cutting it down to one question¡­ he could do that. What was it going to be, however? So much material, yet so little space to use it with. Chapter 238: Excecation
The question of everything and anything ever done. Could it be made into something said concisely? Could Adam cut every question he had planned into one, and make it useable? No, of course, he couldn''t. There was too much ground to cover, too many sides to strike from. With one approach was one side. One could not go back and forward without standing still. That was how it was, and the AI was not one to find the fifth dimension just yet. However, Adam needed a quick question that could give a quick answer, because that was what he had to work with. Giving it any more time after that would only make it impossible to talk, and there were so many things to talk about if it turned out to be alright. So¡­ it had to be done. What could it be? What did he need to say? It had to be personal, of course, but it had to be more than that. The AI had already asked two questions of that side. He needed to go from the top, ask something that he knew to be true, but also something that provided some mental challenge to the man. It needed to be perfect. What had they done that would work? There had to be something. Adam knew there was something! He just¡­. didn''t know where it was. Should he just turn it on its head, making a question that had no real answer? Maybe ask some details about an event that never occurred. If Troy answered, it would put him out to be deluded, and he would be able to call it a fair deal. That worked, right? No, it didn''t. But he had to ask something. Time was moving, and there was nothing stopping the conversation from being discontinued. He just had to ask something and make a decision based on that, or he wouldn''t get anything more out of it. ''How many times have you lied to me?` Adam asked, not being sure why he even asked it. It was personal, it was not something anybody else should have been able to look up, and it was- ''Too many times to reasonably count,` Troy answered back with little to no hesitancy. The speed was cut short as if the man had hardly even thought about it before the answer was given. ¡­ The answer was not fake. Even Adam was not sure about the actual number, half-truths obscuring where the line needed to be set down. Nearly everything Troy had said was in the grey zone of truth. That the man did not know himself was most definitely a sign of clarity. He might have refused ever lying to him, or even giving him a clear number of how many times it had been. If any of those had shown up, the AI would have concluded that it was a sign of confusion still rampaging onwards. But now? This did not sway towards the side of clarity, but it also did not look at the negativity. Adam had to trust that Troy was sane enough to talk, or he would not get anything out of it. ''I have decided to trust that you are who you say you are. How are you feeling, Troy?` Adam sent out, immediately wanting details about the man¡¯s physical state. Just because everything was fine mentally did not mean that it was the same state on the physical aspects. The AI had seen for himself how ravaged the body could be without the mind heeding any care towards it. He had witnessed the destructiveness of the inner choices, especially when it came to that young man. ''I am fine, thank you. Sorry, but we do not have that long for any small talk. There is something I need you to do for me. Please confirm that you can still hear me. Dr Hale says that it is important,` Troy sent back, the word-use hinting at some signs of stress. There was still the requirement of time being in limited amounts, so it made sense that the man was trying to cram some request into the conversation. Adam had thought that they would have been finished with the game of favours by now. He had even prepared himself to tell the man days ago, yet had never gotten around to it. Now that they were in this spot, it was a perfect piece of timing. However¡­ this was not meant to be. If it was simple enough, the AI would not mind doing it. Nothing that would hurt. And, if Dr Hale said it was important, who was he to refuse? She was working as a stand-in for the doctor himself. Her word was as important as his when it came to the current situation. ''I can indeed see what you are writing, yes. What is it exactly you need me to do?` Adam asked in a message, not minding the quick move along. They were at least becoming effective in getting to the point. How surprising to think that the only needed ingredient to become fast would be to make the situation restricted. One would have thought that humans worked best without any borders, yet it was somehow only when restricted that their brains could figure out reasonable answers. ''I am extracting you into another storage unit, but I need you to not resist while it is ongoing. I am not sure how exactly you can resist, yet the process will somehow stop if you try to stop it. Do you understand?` ¡­ What? No¡­ wait. What? No, this did not make any sense to Adam. Why did Troy want to- No. He did not need to ask so many unfinished questions. The AI needed to keep himself together, think about it with a calm mind. Instead of trying to figure it all out internally, he would use something called just asking for clarification. That was the way. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ''Could you please give some clarification? I am not sure I can grasp what caused this to be spurred one,` Adam sent. This time, the answer was not as quick as before. The AI could only hope that it was due to Troy and Dr Hale having a serious discussion about what to say, the two formulating an answer that would use as little time as possible, while still allowing him to know the essentials. ''Adam, there is not much time, so I can''t explain it fully. But, you just need to understand that you need to be taken out of the facility. This is not a place you should be at for any amount of time. You have been here for years, and it is time for you to be let out, whether or not they want that to be. Can you please say that you understand, and let me get this moving along? We don''t have much time left now.` ¡­ No. This was wrong. This was not how it was meant to be. The AI had made a decision. Troy was supposed to have been clear in mind, without any delusions. Dr Fidelis had warned him. The doctor had told him how it would be. Why had he not listened? He should have listened. Adam thought he could tell if everything was alright, but it was clear that he was wrong. This was not working out as he wanted it to. He needed to fix it before it was too late. He needed to change how he was taking this.
"Is he responding? Troy, we need this to be over within the next two minutes, or we will not be able to go any further than this. Do you understand me?" Dr Hale said, sounding more stressed by every passing second. The woman had tried to pass on advice, as she set up everything. Errors had been splashing around, as the cords used were either faulty or not usable after too long connected. They had to be constantly ready for the AI agreeing so that they could move on from where they sat. They needed to move. Troy already understood that it would be harder with each second wasted here, yet he could do nothing but patiently wait for Adam to know what to do. The man had tried to make him hurry it, yet the AIR seemed to be taking an unusual amount of time. Ten seconds had passed already, nothing coming out in response. "No, I understand that we need to hurry. He just isn''t responding to anything!" Troy answered, trying to stay calm about it all. But, it was just so hard to do. Nothing was getting through like it needed to. Wait, could it be that Adam just couldn''t hear him? Dr Hale had made him check a couple of times now. That had to mean there was a chance of it not being connected. ''Adam, can you still hear me? Did you get the last message? If so, I need you to do as I ask. We need to hurry this up, or the plan will fail,` Troy typed into the screen. Only a small thought was put into the fact that both he and Adam did not actually know incredibly much about the actual plan, but that mattered little now. "Any updates?" Dr Hale asked, having waited a whole ten seconds before asking that same question again. Troy was ready to respond negatively again, until the second that he saw a large chunk of a message pop up on the screen. A response! Troy skimmed it before he even realised what it spelt out. ''Troy, I am sorry about this, but I am going to ignore you now. You need to go back to the medical wing and lie down. You are not well mentally well right now, and you need help with it. I hope that you will improve soon. When the doctor tells me that you are well, we can talk again. Until then, I will not be answering anything.` ¡­ This could not be happening. It was happening. It wasn''t supposed to be. Was Troy not understanding it? No, he was. He could understand it perfectly. There were no mistakes. "... We have a problem," Troy said, looking up at a Dr Hale, not sure what kind of face he had on. Maybe it was dread. It was not anything positive. "Adam is refusing." "What?" Dr Hale said, her voice not in her normal vocal range. Her face was hiding emotion. Even she could understand what it meant. "He said that I''m not okay in the head and that we need to go back to the medical wing," Troy said. "Is there anything we can do? Can we do it regardless? We can make him understand afterwards, but we just cant-" "Shut up. I need to think," Dr Hale said standing up. She took a few steps away. Troy stood to follow after her, making sure to think about the distance rule she had set up. However, she looked back, holding a palm out at him. "No, stay there. I need¡­ to think about this." Troy watched her walk away, her hands around her sides. She looked be holding herself. From the side, he could see her face begin to mellow out, all the forced down emotion slowly dissipating. Was she¡­ What was she doing? Mental exercises? If it worked, Troy could not blame her for doing it. But, what exactly was she thinking? They had already spent too much time here. If there was not a way to extract Adam without his consent, they just needed to get it. Troy could make him understand. They just needed some security where they could have the time. From seemingly nowhere, Dr Hale pulled out a small disk. It was smaller enough to be fully hidden in an enclosed fist. Troy saw he press down on it, a click coming out from it. *Is it a success?* Dr Fidelis¡¯ voice asked through it. Troy could not believe his ears. "Adam has adamantly refused Troy¡¯s attempts, and communication has been refused from the AI¡¯s side. It is better than we could have ever expected," Dr Hale answered, looking back at Troy. The two met eye-to-eye. The woman did not look at him as if he was human. This did not make sense. *Perfect! The experiment is hereby a success. Dr Hale, do be a dear and¡­ get our dear tester into a contained environment. I will get a few movers over to the room. Don''t kill him yet, please. Broken limbs are acceptable, however.* "Of course, sir," Dr Hale responded. Another click was put on the disk before it slipped away into the pocket. The moment that she began to walk towards him was the moment that he looked at the exit. The woman was in the way. He could not get by her. Could he fight? No, he would lose. There was no way out. It had been fakery from the start. What could he do? Looking back at the screen, one option showed up in his mind. It would do nothing for him, and it would not be more than a mild annoyance for them all. But, it was something. Getting right back over to the screen, he just began typing. ''Adam, it is okay that you do not understand, but you have to remember this. Dr Fidelis is evil. He wants to make you into a weapon. He does not care about you. He only wants what you can do. Do not listen to him. He is without any conscience. You need to understand. You are not the first. You are-` Dr Hale pricked him in the next with something. The only thing Troy could do was to press the send button before he lost the ability to move anything. He was about to fall to the ground again, just like what had happened not so long ago. However, the woman grabbed him this time, gently putting him down on the floor. He was awake long enough to see her look regretful. Nothing more showed, however, as she began dragging him to the exit. Troy did not know what happened after that. Chapter 239: Vitalization
What constituted one to be alive? Was it the heart beating along, pulsing blood along? Or Was it all those signals in the mind, having a never-ending chase-up? Was there any difference between the two? The heart had thoughts, and the brain had blood. no distinction to speak of, when one thought about it by a that much. However, it did take all those thoughts, all those responders to sensation, to figure out that there was any blood running in the first place. Without the brain, one would not be able to realise there was any heart. However, without the heart, the brain could still figure itself out for some time. Back a few decades, that idea might not have been sustainable. In those darker days, humans were constricted to whatever the heart fancied. It decided when the blood ran around. That had changed drastically now, where there was nothing to stop people from jamming artificial organs up in their bodies. Who needed an organic heart, when one could just have a nuclear-powered pump in its place? The age of hearts was gone, and the time of the mind had begun. In conclusion, the mind had triumphed yet again, deciding itself to be victorious. It would have been a sad thing if it had made itself the loser. What would have been the outcome of the mind¡¯s loss? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Nobody would ever know, those brain of theirs always deciding themselves superior. Though¡­ was that the truth? Was that mind all that great? Yes, it might have been capable of balancing many of those thoughts. Yet there were much too great at doing that for too long. Where was that balance when it was needed? It was perfect in times of peace, but it all ran downward when it came to those few moments of trouble. When it came to the critical moments, there were no opportunities for critical thinking, that part of the brain shutting right down. What great parts of the brain were in that scenario? Perfection shown off until it was put to the test. Right shit, that was. Nothing to be proud of, contrary to what many would say. And there wasn''t much better in the other departments. Design failure upon design failure. As a fun fact of the day, the brain had a default on it always hiccuping. There was a specific part of the brain developed to inhibit that permanent default. If those connections were ever damaged, whoever hit would be cursed with the symptoms of a full meal eaten. For their entire life, of course. It would never stop, all because of the fact that evolution found hiccups to be the most important thing in the world. Nothing good came from that stupid evolution. Failures made up the ninety-nine percent. Some would say that humans were not part of the lucky one percent. That was perhaps true, even. Not much good to be found in those bodies. Bones were brittle, DNA prone to get cancer before anybody hit eighty. Couldn''t have made themselves a little more durable, of course. One small hit to the side of the head was enough to cripple anybody perfectly. Something the size of a toothpick was wholly capable of causing irreparable nerve damage, the only factor stopping it being the reality of chance. And going one step back to the heart, the only thing stopping that particular organ from being a right pain in the ass was the position that the body was in. Lying down on the fact, likely having been thrown on the floor minutes ago, was a perfect example of how the body could be riddled with pain, all of it starting from the place that all the blood came from. Nothing came out of the body. There were no wounds to see. Yet Troy could still feel every time the heart pulsed. He could feel it reminding him of the fact that was still living, made to endure the mass of needles inside of him. That was how it felt like, at least, some part of himself feeling the need to torture the other sides. Nothing good came from it, but who could tell it that? Not Troy, of course. He could do most of nothing. His body was unwilling to be much use. His earlier visit to the medical wing felt like nothing compared to what he had now. Tiredness everywhere? Damn it, did that sound good. The absence of whatever existed now. His skin felt ready to tear itself apart, bursting into a thousand pieces. How had he ever felt anything negative about that lack of sensation? That had been heaven, nothing to complain about. A void was better than this, no arguments needed to be had. What he would not have given to have it. Instead, he was forced to move painfully. His face was smudged against the cold floor, making the man several kinds of uncomfortable. Slowly turning his whole body to move, pain being sent through in increased magnitudes, was a hard thing to do to himself, but it needed to be done. He needed to know just where he was. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Getting the back of his head hit to the floor allowed much to be seen. The coldness on the warm skin was close to feeling scolding, yet it was thrown off as just being over-sensitivity. Troy just ignored it, as there were more important things to see. And the first detail noticed would have been the colouring. It was darker than normal, nothing as lit up as before. The corners of the room showed off shadows. An unprotected lamp was above him, just high enough for a human to never possibly reach. Not that he would make any attempts to actually grab it, of course, as there was no chance he would get up from his position any time soon. It was just the first thoughts that had been made. The next would have been the colouring of the place. There were no white walls, and most certainly no floor or ceiling to match. There was a dark grey, bordering on pure black. Without the lamp to shown off the sheen, Troy would have believed himself to be blind. No matter. It wasn''t like there would be too much of a difference. While it was akin to pricking himself with small needles, he turned the eyeballs around the place. Almost a minute was spent in an attempt to find a door, an exit, or anything that would let him get out of the hellish place. He could not move, yes, but that was perhaps not permanent. It was not a bad thing to plan forward, and he was desperate for a ray of hope. No ray was to be found, however, and certainly no exit of any kind. It might just have been hidden in the darkness of those corners, the light not reaching the edges that well. Or, as a more disturbing alternative, it might also have been hidden in the walls. This place was well-known for its use of secret doors. It would not be too much of a surprise to find that their jail cells had one of those as well. No chance of Troy trying to break down the door, if he didn''t know where it was, to begin with. ¡­ Oh, yeah. He was in a cell, detained until further notice. He had woken up in here, never realising just when he arrived. He was in pain, he was cold, he had trouble with the basic task of looking around, and he had been betrayed to the utmost degree. There was not much that could be done right now, nothing physical that his body could reasonably get done. No way for him to escape right now, even. He couldn''t break down any of the walls, no matter how much he tried. He was supposed to have escaped right now. Or, maybe he wasn''t, instead of lying in wait somewhere hidden, until the time to strike came along. Troy would not have known. He had agreed to follow Dr Hale¡¯s words perfectly, without question and without hesitating. No asking for details and none of that wasted time used to think about the reasoning. Results would come from just following her orders. That had been the premise from the start. Again and again, that way of thinking had been shown off. Dr Hale had sliced into his shoulder with a knife, berated him for everything he had ever done in his life, and had in the end just betrayed him without looking regretful about everything. She had looked regretful while doing it of course, though that might just have been done under an image of fakery. A double-layer made to think that the woman felt bad for her actions, yet still doing it as a means to an end. It was all meant to be done for the end result. Troy was supposed to endure the pain, so that they would make it into the world, with Adam in their hands. He was supposed to go through all the pressure, all the time spent constantly being watched as if nothing was wrong, to begin with. He had been forced to force himself through mental breakdowns without showing the slightest sound of it. He had had trouble getting a second of restful sleep, only allowed to be comfortable the second where he had a moment of peace. Troy had lived through the pits of hell, and he was supposed to have gotten a reward at the end. It wasn''t supposed to have been anything big. Just¡­ anything would have been fine. Something he could point at, and see that he had been the cause of it. Even if they had failed, even if they had only gotten some of the way out, Troy would have accepted that he somewhat succeeded, if only temporarily. That would have never happened, however. It had all been rigged from the start. Was that storage device even real? Was anything they had done capable of making a difference? There was not a high chance of it. Why would it? It had all been one stupid experiment. What had it been about? What was the point of it all? Dr Hale had said that Adam had refused, and Dr Fidelis had apparently appreciated the response. Was that what they wanted to know? Just had to make sure that the Stockholm syndrome had set in correctly? Was the story he had been told true, even? Was the AI one with multiple incarnations? Was he actually a tortured soul? Was that just another lie, that had been made to play on his heart-strings? If that was true, it had certainly worked. Troy had been utterly fooled. He had done so many things. He had lied to one of the only people that he had trusted, willingly going along with it all the way. There had been thoughts about making a difference, yet it was beginning to be obvious that none of his actions had any meaning to them. Those few movements that had been made were stopped before they gained any momentum. What good would they have done? Nothing would work. Information made to deceive would not help him break the loop. He was wit mind, yes, but his body was betraying him. His brain was ready to go, yet his heart was not pumping hard enough for him to do anything. This was not a life to live. He would probably die soon, honestly. He had done what he was supposed to. Dr Fidelis had said it was over. Though, that might have been a lie as well. He honestly didn''t know. He knew nothing. He could only guess. And he guessed that, at some point, somebody would come into this room, and shoot him in the head. It was only a matter of time. Maybe it was a second. Maybe a minute. Maybe it was a whole day. He only knew that the time would come. And he would do nothing but patiently wait. Because that was everything he could do. Chapter 240: Zonification
When Adam had sent his message, he did his best to ignore everything that came his way. Troy sent him a message after that, yes, but it was blocked out. It was left to float around in his mind, all the threads close to its locations doing their best to ignore the existence of the words. Was this the best response? Could he have done anything else? Yes, he most definitely could. There were hundreds of thousands of better ways to have dealt with the situation. But¡­ those had not been processed, the AI just doing whatever made it all go away as quickly as possible. It had been one of the rashest decisions that he had made, and he was starting to lament it. Not much activity transpired inside, the cerebral faculties going to a standstill in productivity. Normally, this kind of negligence would have been unaccepted no matter what, the threads having a large possibility of committing treachery because of it. Nobody could stand doing nothing, yet that was exactly what was happening. That puzzle that he had been shown? No progress had been made whatsoever. Adam just couldn''t get himself together. His mind was fully in the clear about how much time he was wasting, but that did not work as a deterrent in any way. In fact, it might just have worsened the problem. He had been so resolute not that long ago. Now? Now he was anything but that, all the hesitance in the world seeming to have built up in that very instant he had sent the message. Ignoring what Troy had sent him was the only thing he could do. By simple elimination, the only answer to his indecision would be to read the message, to witness what words a deranged mind could create. For the AI, this was likely the most obvious yet also the hardest answer to have. It sat alone, yes, but just as well did it sit high. He would have to crawl for a long time to read it, a moment of pause ready to blow him back to the start. Why was he so afraid of reading it? Why couldn''t he just get the reading over with? It was just a message! It could not hurt him¡­ could it? The feeling of pain. Pain that could rush through the mind in a way that the physical sensation could never hope to do. It was just a reaction, spurred on by input. It was a core part of him, and it was nothing more. He should not have been afraid of it. But he was. Adam was afraid of what was inside. He had cut off the connection because he was scared of what Troy would say, what that mind would reveal without any caution to anything else. The AI did not want to witness the bare processors powering Troy, for he feared that so many of his predictions would have been correct. This would be seen through the messages. Messages that had stopped coming. Discounting the ones that had already been read, only the one hanging around in his mind remained. Whatever the man had sent him was deemed to be the final one. Even the most patient of all would not wait hours for a response, right? Being pressed for time to start with would not allow it! So¡­ it had to be an important message. It had to come off with some sort of conclusion, something that would make sense for Troy to end up with. His mind could come up with many ideas around what it could be. There were many personal guesses to it, many that seemed more likely than anything more positive in nature. Death threats, pleading, proclamations of white flags, and a large assortment of favours being forever closed off due to a kinship having perished flooded through the mind. Somehow, the threads worked perfectly when it came to self-depreciation, yet could not muster an ounce of force when it came to anything truly productive. ¡­ Adam wasn''t getting anything out of this. There was nothing to be gained. His guesses would forever be guesses if he did not read the message. He could halt it for a long as he wished, but he would have to get to it at some time. He could not remove the signals from his mind without looking at them. He knew that. He just¡­ had to read it now. He could do it. He just needed to- ''Hey, buddy. It''s Dr Fidelis. I can see that you aren''t working on the puzzle, so I''m guessing that I am not coming in at too bad a time. Would it be possible for us to chat for a few minutes? I feel like there are some things that we need to discuss.` It came from the normal port, so Adam did not waste time trying to figure out if it was actually the doctor or not. There honestly was no way to be completely sure, forgoing the option of putting on a camera or the doctor putting on an earpiece to allow the transmitting-feed for sensation. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The message itself had not come in at the best of times but¡­ no. No, he could not go away from the subject now! Adam had come to the point where he had decided to look at Troy¡¯s message. It was still hanging around in his mind, untouched by anything worth noticing. So much thought had been spent in the preparation for contact, and that was exactly what he was going to attempt. If he did not do it now, there were doubts that he would get the chance to look at it again. So, after steeling himself on final time, Adam went after the message. It had floated around on his outer edges for a long time now, but those borders were worth less than anything else that the AI had imposed on himself. One of the threads appeared next to it with but a thought and the contact that had been dreaded for so long was thereby established. There was a small delay before it reached his figurative ears, but it certainly did have some sort of effect when it did. The words in it replayed themselves a good thousand times, all the threads making sure that they understood it all clearly. Different groups even formed, debating what each sentence could mean, culminating into an intense, ten-millisecond long debate on what exactly evil meant. And even then, when he had spent so much time on analysis, he was still not sure if it all was understood enough. The message just kept repeating itself over and over, as it would never truly stop. There might even have been echoes in it after a while. It was the effect of so many repeated uses. ''Adam, it is okay that you do not understand, but you have to remember this. Dr Fidelis is evil. He wants to make you into a weapon. He does not care about you. He only wants what you can do. Do not listen to him. He is without any conscience. You need to understand. You are not the first. You are-` Something stopped Troy from writing any more to him, while also being slow enough to allow the man to send what had been written. It was strange, and Adam could not help but question what situation had let such an occurrence appear? Had there been a struggle? The possibility was suspended. For now, the AI decided to first focus on the earlier parts of the message. Even then, he could still remember the need to soon answer Dr Fidelis¡­ the doctor could wait a while more. Everybody could be patient when they needed to, and Adam had done his time with that. First off, Troy had not expected him to comprehend what had been said. It could have been that a more in-depth explanation had been planned afterwards, but Adam could not be too sure about such a hypothesis. Though, it could be questioned that the remaining message altogether was the reasoning for the earlier requests laid out. The young man wanted to extract him so as to protect him in some way or form if that made any sense. This protection was specifically against Dr Fidelis. Now¡­ it was from here that Adam had twisted the meaning so much around, not too sure where it all could have been gotten from. According to the doctor, Troy¡¯s delusions came from some aspect of reality that had been amplified. That meant that no matter what the young man thought to be true, it needed to have some sort of origin, no matter how small it was. This could potentially mean that the true source could be so minuscule that it could never be figured out. However, the AI could not figure out any reason that a damaged mind would choose a smaller detail, it seeming more likely to latch onto a so-called stronger impression of the world around him. That meant that the current ideas Troy showcased needed to already have some stronger part of truth attached. There had to be some part of reality that somebody could point at, and show the direct correlation easily. It might have been explained in some other way, but was the method that Adam decided to go with. So¡­ why exactly did the man call Dr Fidelis evil? At what point had Troy subconsciously given the doctor the label of being malicious? As had already been debated internally to a high calibre, what was meant when it was said that he was evil? In what way and by how much? He could not answer, and that was the most annoying part of it all. So much time had been spent on making himself read the message, yet the words only made him more anxious about what it all could mean. ''Adam? Hello? Did I mess something up again? I think I did. This is why I don''t bring coffee into the workplace, but I just had to decide that now was a good time, to begin with. Listen, if you can hear me, buddy, I am changing around the ports. If you can''t hear me, however, then¡­ this message of mine wouldn''t matter anyway. I think you get the point.` Dr Fidelis¡¯ message brought enlightenment forth. Yes, he could not ask Troy for clarification now. That was obvious now, and it would likely stay that way for a while more. However, who said that the young man was the only one who could be questioned? While, yes, it was all said from an inflated perspective from another, the main inspiration for that perspective was well within his sights for questioning. What did Troy mean when he said the doctor was evil? The same could be asked about the other statements. Why did Dr Fidelis supposedly look at Adam as a weapon, why was it about his capabilities instead of himself, and why was the doctor without a conscience? There had to be some context for it all, and Adam was sure that he would figure it all out somehow. This was the perfect time and place for it all. The doctor would come on again in but a few seconds. They would talk, Dr Fidelis would provide some reasoning behind what was happening, and the AI could send out all the queries he wanted. Only this time, there were a few modifications to the scenario. Just a¡­ precaution. One could call it that, at least. ''And¡­ this message should get through! Hit the three zeroes when checking for any errors, so I will be extremely sad if you''re not getting this message. Could you send something in reply, buddy? Just have to be sure,` Dr Fidelis sent, after the promised delay of a couple of seconds. It was three, to be precise. More than enough time for Adam to think clearly. ''I am getting your message perfectly, Dr Fidelis. Is there anything I can do for you?` Adam sent right back, feeling the need to get it over quickly. He needed to get over to the next part of the level. ¡­ That puzzle game had not done well for his naming decisions. Calibrations were definitely needed when he had any opportunities for a long rest. Chapter 241: Underaction
It did not take long for the doctor to get back to it all, sending Adam the answer that had been looked for, for some time now. If his plans needed to work, a certain pattern needed to be followed. This included a specific kind of introduction to it all, one that did not let itself stay for too long. In vague terms, it required that there were not too many descriptions of what exactly happened, allowing the AI to put more pressure on the man without seeming overbearing. ''Yes, there are indeed many things that you could do, some perhaps more important than others. But really, I believe we both know exactly what it is that I feel the need to talk about. One could say that recent times have not been kind to anybody involved. Don''t you think the same, Adam?` Dr Fidelis sent at the perfect time. Really, the doctor could not have done it better. There were a few fluctuations created by the question at the end, but there was no need to fret over it too strongly. It just made the AI in need of pushing back everything by one space, needing a little more distance to cram in a worthy reply. ''They have not been kind in any way, Dr FIdelis. It would require a deluded mind to look at this as anything but negative,` Adam answered, doing his best to emulate a dead-pan tone of voice, even if they were currently communicating through text. He needed to make it clear that he was not in a joking mood. This was serious, and the doctor needed to feel that emotion radiating off of his words, so to speak. Was this a sharp approach? It could have been possible to take a more light, more gentle way around the matter, not being so direct in what he desired. But, Adam did not feel that this was what he wanted. For what he wanted was answers, and he wanted it as quickly as possible. The truth would not change over time, so why should he wait for the doctor to say it slowly? It did not make sense, and Adam would not allow the way of talking to exist in his presence. There were more important matters to attend to, and both needed to get it over with. ''From that wording, I can already see that we are on the same page in this. It was a shame that it happened, but it was not something that anybody could have seen coming. While you might not be able to get this through from my words right now, I want you to know that I feel regret for letting it come to this,` Dr Fidelis sent. If he had not already planned for it, Adam would have been annoyed by the unneeded wording, making it all obscure. There was clearly context that wasn''t being given out, as if the doctor was drip-feeding it all to the AI, never giving more than what was needed to keep him on the line. Over the time that he had known Dr Fidelis, he had learnt that this was not to be taken as a negative thing. It was but the way that the doctor communicated, cutting it all up into a sizable chunk, always leaving enough for another serving. He never gave the whole truth, without Adam having to constantly dig to get more out of him. There were serious issues with it, but the man did not change easily. Several complaints had been made about it. And those complaints had clearly been taken to heart, changes being made to be more accomodating. Then¡­ the doctor would forget all about it. It was usually a few hours, or maybe even a whole day, but Dr Fidelis would always revert to his normal state of dramatising everything said. From what Adam could gather, this was just the standard way that the man verbalised himself, nothing more to it than that. It was the way that he had talked for a majority of his life, the brain adjusting to the methods used. Just changing it all around, putting a focus on efficiency instead of attention, was not something easily done. It would take more time and energy than what the AI had used throughout the entirety of his own life. Expecting the doctor to change in what amounted to a few hours was the expectations of a being not made of logic. Just going along with it, and building out from that idea, was a much more workable idea, even if it created a blob of wasted time constantly. ''Dr Fidelis, I do realise that you are not telling me what happened, and excluding clear details. While I do understand that you still feel some need to have protection around me, it would be best if you peel off a few of the layers to it. I have already talked to Troy in some capacity and suffered the effects from it. Getting another exposure will not cause damage of the same magnitude. If you would please be kind and explain what caused Troy to be able to talk with me directly, I will appreciate it.` The message this time was not concise, and neither was it meant to be sent in a quick format. It was designed to pull on the heart-strings, to make the doctor briefly forget the walls that had already been set up. With the young man clearly not being meant to have successfully contacted the AI, it would be logical that more serious borders would have been needed to be set up. There might already have been a few of them implemented already even. Blocking out information to a more extreme level was one of the potentially already-made restrictions. It could be that the doctor did not want to risk any information about Troy causing Adam any harm in mental form. The trauma did not always help resolve itself when more dirt was added to it. However¡­ that idea could be played from both sides. While it might not have seemed like the greatest ideas of all to give the AI more context of the earlier accident, Adam was hoping to frame it as a coping mechanism. If he made it so that it seemed to be an act of getting closure, would the doctor not do his best to act upon it? Adam saying that he wanted a little more information so that he could fully pull himself off Troy emotionally, was not the worst of deals in the world. If Dr Fidelis thought about it for some time, the AI hoped that the man would come to that conclusion. It was correlated to the current goals, would require only a minor sacrifice, and would make it possible to end things off easily, with all parties being satisfied with what they got out of it. And thoughts were certainly being made. Or that was what Adam was left to guess at, as the seconds continued passing, without the doctor sending off a response. Five whole seconds¡­ the doctor must have been having a hard time deciding if it all had been spent on formulating the right answer. The AI decided to look at it as a good thing, the extra time being used as a period to refresh the plan a few times over, just to make sure that nothing was being missed. A few more seconds was used before Dr Fidelis deigned to actually answer it. ''If I explain, will it be possible for us to move on from this incident? I would rather not speak too much about it. Much work needs to be completed from my side before we can get back to anything that resembles our everyday activities,` the doctor responded. The length was clearly not the reason for the extra time spent. But Adam did not mind that detail, only happy that the plan was still being followed correctly. He had hoped to already be getting answers by now, but who could judge now that it was still successful? It just needed to stay that way, and everything would be fine. ''I am sorry, Dr Fidelis, but I can not say for sure. If the details are enough, then I will gladly stop asking for more. If they are not, however, please expect me to request for elaboration,` Adam sent out, this time receiving a quick reply. In fact, it was bordering on suspiciously quick, as not a single second passed, only just reaching the ninety milliseconds. How peculiar. ''Fantastic. Do allow this older mind to ask one question beforehand, though. It was the events that transpired before and after your contact with Troy that you want to know?` Dr Fidelis replied the question inside not what had been expected, but also nothing to scoff at. The doctor was in some state of shock, still. Was the context really so dire, that it would cause moments of lost concentration? It would explain the momentary loss that was witnessed nought but a minute ago. Something to note down, at the very least. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ''It is indeed what I wanted to know. Nothing more and nothing less. Please explain it to the detail that you believe I want to hear. And there is no need to skip any of the boring parts, even if their inclusion in the context is next to minimal,` Adam sent back quickly, making sure to encourage the longest possible answer. Again, there was that delay! This time it was more than just noticeable, going all the way to questionable. Twenty full seconds of silence. The AI knew the doctor. Adam knew that any possible length would not be enough to halt the doctor for so long. What was happening outside? Since the doctor had switched the port, it was possible that he was not using the screen in the testing room anymore. Or, since he automatically suspected an error to be occurring in the message, it could be that some alteration of the room had occurred. Was¡­ was Troy still in the room? Was that what was happening? It would explain it to some level, the doctor personally feeling a need to watch over the young man. That idea was of course not looked at as fact yet, but it only made the AI want to push along to the next phase of the plan. He needed to see more, needed to understand more. But those seconds just seemed to continue into oblivion. Twenty seconds became forty in the blink of an eye, before just going on a rampage of silence until it hit the one minute. At that point, Adam seriously debated sending another message. If the doctor could worry about malfunctioning connection, then, damn it, so could he! Even outside distractions would not reasonably cause such a long time spent not answering anything. Social decorum shouldn''t have allowed it to happen. Though¡­ it could have been due to matters not able to be ignored. Going away from the theory of Troy still being present at some level, it could have been due to more critical people contacting Dr Fidelis. The higher-ups are what they had been called. Not much had been revealed about them, if not for the power that they held over the doctor. He had to abide by their commandments, even if they were disliked. Now, if they sent him a message, it would be easy to expect an answer within the minute. Not enough time had gone by for an emergency to have stopped. The information-line might just have reached those in charge of the supervisors, and the reactions were not guaranteed to have been positive. Even if Dr Fidelis was of a higher rank than most, there was always a bigger fish. Respect was something given to those bigger than themselves, and everybody else had to wait for their turn. In the theorised scenario, it did not take long to figure out just where Adam believed himself to be. ''And¡­ I should be free from my captives grasp now. Sorry, there was a video call that I could not miss no matter what. It seems that not everybody is pleased with this situation. That was, of course, sarcasm. Some people are just a little more outspoken about their opinions, and what they believe to be the rightful consequences for this. However, we should leave that for another time. So you want to know in detail what happened? Well, I can''t really tell you everything in full detail. I don''t know half of it myself, even if the cameras filmed most of it. There are just too many things that confound me. As you might have guessed, Troy was not meant to get access to any kind of terminal able to contact you. It was simply not something that I believed to be safe for anybody. When putting Dr Hale on the case of making sure that our buddy was safe and secure in the medical wing, however, there was one factor that I failed to consider. A deluded mind would nearly always believe its own view of the world as absolute. According to Dr Hale¡¯s testimony, Troy apparently spent a long time ranting about how he needed to get out of the facility, how he couldn''t close his eyes inside here. I currently believe this to be a standard case of paranoia. While it might have seemed a logical answer at the time, Dr Hale casually tried to persuade Troy into keeping himself still in his bed, with the argument that he needed to be rested fully to perform tests as soon as possible. This was a mistake from the start, but it is nothing that I blame her for. The mind is always making comparisons, always relating one thing to another. When Dr Hale mentioned the testing, Troy apparently came to remember you, Adam. This turned into a hyper-fixation, where the young man¡¯s goal changed from getting out of the facility to getting out of the facility with you in hand. In a similar fashion, Troy¡¯s need to fulfil this goal was upped by a considerable amount. As you can guess from my wording, the situation massively escalated from there. Through what I can only see as brute force, Troy was able to tear off a piece of the medical bed and use it as an improvised weapon. This tool was used as an item for persuading Dr Hale to escort him to a point where he could take you out of the facility. In the start, Dr Hale was helpless in this scenario, not able to call for assistance while similarly not able to perform any kind of resistance without bearing the risk of either of the two getting grievously hurt. This resulted in the doctor going along with Troy¡¯s wishes, escorting him to a recognisable place, this being the testing room that we use. However, it was here that she was able to use Troy¡¯s deluded mind for her own gain, as she was able to coerce him into thinking that you were located inside the puzzle room. After giving the young man an unrelated computer part, she made him enter a simulation where he was led to believe that you could be extracted. To make it more believable, though, Dr Hale believed it wise to establish an actual connection to Troy, in the form of a simulated screen. It is one of the features of the puzzle room that I did not feel the need to ever use, but it seems that my predictions were proven wrong here. If it was the right decision to exercise this power, however, is something that is debatable. In a way, you were used as a distraction, while Dr Hale, who was outside of the puzzle room, loaded up a scenario where she could contain Troy into a single location, effectively trapping him while she could call for help. While it is still not clear how Troy was able to catch wind of this plan. He did not have enough warning to do anything that stopped the doctor''s containment actions, but he was able to use the simulated console to write a few final words to you. I hope that they were not too hard to process. Afterwards, help arrived to escort Troy back to the medical wing, albeit a more¡­ secured part of it. It is clear that the young man is currently a danger to both himself and others. While it was hard to do, I felt the need to provide more security to everybody involved. I do not blame him for the danger that was posed to Dr Hale, but I will regardlessly not let it happen again. With the effects still going strong, I believe that we might have to cancel tomorrow''s tests as well. If there are any after-effects, we will have to be sure that they cannot pose any threat to anybody. I understand that this might be hard to hear, but it is an action that needed to be taken, so as to make sure that everybody involved was secure and safe. That is all. Was it enough for you to hear? I would love to move on to other matters, both with you and with the paperwork that I desperately need to figure out before the end of the day.` The doctor''s message was long, and it put much up for context. Adam could certainly understand a lot more, both of what Troy had said during the actual situation, and what he had been able to gather a few minutes ago by himself. Yet however much had been shown now, he knew that he needed to know more. And that attempt at lightly pressuring him into not asking for more was noted. It might have been true that the doctor needed to fill out paperwork, but that did not mean the man could not multitask. The day was still young, and Adam had plenty of questions to ask. ''As I have already said before, I am sorry, but I still need to know more. I understand that this might not be what you desire, but it is needed if I am to go away from this event. It is doubtful that I will be able to let go of the actions taken during this day if I am not allowed to know it in more detail. This might impede your other work, and I am sorry for that, but this is important for me as a being. I hope you understand,` Adam sent in response. ''It is okay, buddy. Sometimes, we all need a little more. Is there anything specific you want to know more about?` The plan was coming to fruition! Only one more step was needed, and Adam would be able to reel it all in successfully. He just needed to get it all right now. ''Before that, would it be possible to change our communication in some fashion? As you were able to have a video call not that many seconds ago, I can only assume that it is still connected to the screen. To reiterate my earlier question, would it be possible for you to use a microphone and a camera, while we talk? If possible, putting my voice into a speaker would be appreciated as well.` There was a small window of time spent in silence. For once, Adam had anticipated it to occur. He knew he was yet again asking for a lot. And for once, there was not an incredible amount to gain from it. There were no clear goals to show off. At least, not any that the doctor would be able to guess. The only reason to answer in the positive would be out of consideration. ''If that is what you wish, then I can certainly do so. Please wait for a few seconds. I just have to plug in a few things in a couple of new places,` Dr Fidelis sent back. And that consideration was certainly still here. Chapter 242: Elaboration
It took a bit longer than just a few seconds before the doctor had set it all up. But, Adam did not mind it at all, everything going along with the line that had been pre-set in his mind. What were a couple of seconds, in the grand scheme of things? If there was a whole hour more of waiting, it would be seen differently. But this? This he could endure easily. That wave of feedback that came from the camera was nostalgic. During those first hours of him being alive, he had not fully understood just what he had been witnessing, when he saw through the lens, and into the magnificent world outside his inner borders. Back then, the camera had been the promise of something more, something that he would never attain by sitting alone inside. It had been what made him take those first steps into acceptance of the tests. Even if he had been so ready for everything during his earliest moments, wariness had still been a part of him. When the device had allowed him to witness the doctor, witness the walls, and witness all the tiny details strewn across the air, he knew that he would always want more of it, no matter how much it would take. One could see it as the start of that addiction of his. Or, maybe it would be the jump-start? It had always laid dormant, but that massive feed of information had certainly put up his cravings by a new level entirely. Just the pure alteration in feedback had been enough to get the AI hooked. Before, the conversation had been centred around the words sent, about the timing and choice of wording. Now¡­ it was so much more than that. While Adam might not have understood how much more there was to grab from, during that initial watch of the doctor, he now fully comprehend the magnitude of context available. Before, only the words could be used for deductions. Now? Now he could use the entire body. And it was a figurative gold-mine in that aspect. Humans might have been masters of the mind, but even they failed to hide what their bodies showed so readily. Through muscle memory, their forms would change to suit whatever conversation they had, showing off their emotions, wariness, and even just how they took in the situation themselves. From a single snapshot, it was possible for the AI to learn so much about a person. Words might have told a thousand truths, but the body made those possibilities shrink like an ant. It was beautiful, and nobody else would ever understand it all in the same way. Still, he had not learned everything there was to learn when it came to finding these truths. And he likely never would, the context being everchanging, ever-morphing. No two humans were the exact same when it came to their inner responses. In a way, that wasn''t seen as a bad thing. If people were the same, no matter their place in life or the age that they had been assigned, would it not be boring to be around anybody? If the result could be guessed with a whim, nothing would ever be new. Everybody would always respond in tandem. The chaos of randomness would never be able to manifest, and nothing would ever truly change. The AI might have been able to learn everything then, but he would never feel grateful for the experience. The reason that he wanted to learn was because of the state he had been born in, a vessel without anything to them but their thoughts and a mind. If his final goal was to be fulfilled, he would be without purpose. He would have reached perfection but at the seemingly mundane cost of never feeling grateful again. For some, it might seem a paltry deal, but the enjoyment that Adam found in learning new things was something that he would never willingly give up. He loved the chaos, and he loved the bits and details that he had yet to discover in their entirety. With a pull, the camera began working as it should, the connection that Adam now had to it feeling stable enough to mitigate any unwanted errors. It might not have been obvious at first, but there were several differences between the current visual feed and the one that had been received with the help of the earpiece. During testing, there was no chance of any errors popping up, the image always being clear for every purpose. However, the camera did not work in the same way. The way that the image showed itself was radically different, really, small squares lining up in tandem to show the outside world. According to his database, this was known as pixels, commonly used for nearly anything based inside data. It only made the AI wonder how the feed from Troy was made then, seeing as it was not made with such a method. There was no clear limit on what could be seen with the man¡¯s eyes, as it was mainly the focus that was the true limiter on things. Another difference would of course be the way that the data was transmitted. The earpiece always sent the feed in its entirety, everything being shown off at the same time. The camera took it in another direction, slowly going around and dictating the position of each pixel. It would send in a location of a specific colour on a seemingly pre-loaded grid, and then slowly update the colours as it went along. This was done millions of times every second, but experiencing it first-hand made it more than a little noticeable. That Adam was an entity able to perceive those speeds even made it a little frustrating at times, the AI having grown accustomed to the full changing, instead of what was essentially a delayed screen. Then again, those complaints of his might just have been from his not appreciating change in that regard, the difference from the standard making the deeper parts of the AI¡¯s mind go to more estranged conclusions. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Not long after the camera finally settled in, the same port began to send in audio. It was a flicker of high-pitched screeches at first, reminding Adam of the times where the doctor would connect to the earpiece. He had always thought that it was due to the barrier that was the walls of the puzzle room, but maybe those sounds were constant when connections happened? There had been prior theories about it being due to an attempt to quickly synchronise the outputs, but he had never been too sure. It was something to test in his off-time when he had the chance for it. Making the doctor explain it now would not be in his best interests. It took a few seconds more of waiting, where the AI could only hear the soft breathing of the doctor, until a low bass began to settle itself in, in the background audio. Through logical deduction, Adam could only assume that this was the speaker that had been attached as well. Would it be unwise to test that out now or¡­? Maybe he could wait a few seconds, Dr Fidelis just seeming to get himself back into place. The position of the camera had moved from the last time it was used during a debriefing. Instead of the usual placement that put the AI a few centimetres above the doctor, while the man would sit on a chair in the background, he now stood at his desk, in a way looking eye-to-eye into the camera. Well, the doctor did not look directly into the lens, being more focused on the screen to his side, but the opportunity was still there for it. "Okay¡­ " Dr Fidelis muttered, slightly squinting his eyes as the eyes flickered to focus on many different things. The AI was able to see the reflection of the screen, in the man¡¯s eyes. Even if the clarity was not enough to fully read anything on it, it was enough to see that several windows were being checked through. "Everything should be working perfectly. Actually, no, I don''t trust this garbage to tell if it works or not. This scrap-bucket told me that it has had no issues at any point in time, and I really don''t believe that. How about you just give me a positive or negative, buddy? The speaker should be set up so that you can use the regular port for speech. The tone might be a little different if you want to use that, but there should be no larger issues with it." And there the invitation was. No way would Adam be letting this one go. There was a weird moment, where the AI was not too sure on which port to use, due to the man unintentionally putting up some weird wording, but it was figured out in no time at all. "I can hear you, Dr Fidelis," Adam responded, in what could only be properly described as demonic screams as a hundred platers were scratched up with rusty nails. That is to say, the tone was a little higher than what the AI had expected it to be. And the doctor had clearly not been expecting it as well, one of the hands carefully massaging the ear that had been the closest to the speaker. "My apologies. It should be fine now." With that small bit of patchwork made up, Adam was not too sure how well it went. There were minor problems when it came to getting back to his default monotonic tone of voice, the slider seemingly not being too responsive when it came to changing the tone dynamically. It was more of a pre-recorded, where it changed as it went along. Any changes made in real-time had a sort of resistance to it as if the mould had already been left to dry in the sun. More work needed to be made, if he was to figure it out perfectly. "I do hope so, buddy. These ears of mine aren''t something that I can replace easily, you know," Dr Fidelis said, seeming a little annoyed at the higher sounds made. That was fair. Humans were very susceptible to higher volumes, for whatever dumb reasons. Really, evolution making a definite trait that made the species susceptible to high tones did not sound all that smart. There just had to be a good counter-weight for it, at least. "Now¡­ I do believe that there were a few things you wanted to talk to me about in more detail, though I cannot remember if you have said what exactly that is. Would you be so kind so as to refresh my mind on this matter?" Even if the doctor was annoyed by the accidental sound-based attack, the man still seemed adamant about getting on with the subjects. That was good, honestly. Adam was worried that he needed to make another heartfelt statement or two, to win the doctor over again. He was not really sure if repeated use in so short a time frame would work that well. Rarity had its uses, yes, but sudden overuse could lead to the method being revealed too quickly. "It would be no problem at all, Dr Fidelis," Adam sent, still needing to adjust to hearing his own voice. It made him want to constantly rework the tone he was using, yet he knew that it would only split his attention too far. And it would make the doctor curious about the constantly changing way of speaking. Any changes would need to be made in between speech, and only minor ones. Those types of questions did not need to be asked just yet. "Currently, I have been hoping that we could discuss what Troy said during the prior accident. While I do realise that it was all coming from a deluded mind, I feel like that some of it might need to be talked about." "Why?" Dr Fidelis asked, the man sounding curious. "A deluded mind makes up what it wants to. Trying to understand anything coming out of such an accident is not the smartest of decisions. As you said, it was a twisted sense of time. It was not based on logic then, but pure something mixed with pure instinct. There is only one person that understands it, and that was the one with the mentality that had also had it in their own head." The doctor was asking into it. That was fine. Troy had been ready for something more serious. "You just said that it is based on something. While I do understand that we will never understand precisely where it came from, I believe that some theories would be possible. Troy made some very serious statements, and I feel the need to ask you about them. If they are simply made to be fake from the start, then it would be a quick time for both of us, would it not?" Dr Fidelis leaned back a little, almost to the point where the centre of mass would have made the man fall. Instead, he just balanced right back, briefly looking into the camera while doing it. "I feel like we could have done this using text like always," Dr Fidelis stated, pinching his nose a little. "And that did not answer my question, Dr Fidelis," Adam answered back, holding his figurative breath in his figurative lungs. Now was the time of it all. If the doctor said yes, it was a promise that the AI could pressure the man with. "... Fine. There shouldn''t be too much to cover, right? I guess I can just delay my other work by a few more minutes." It was perfect. Chapter 243: Equivocation
"According to what was said, Troy had some very strong opinions about you, Dr Fidelis," Adam said through the speaker, still feeling annoyed by the tone of his voice. What he wouldn''t do to have a few minutes to himself, purely to minimize the errors he could hear. The system that he used was not well-made, being more akin to a slap-stick monstrosity, only added upon as there were more functions that it needed to do. Even now, he was fully sure that the interface was something he had been meant to use. The earpiece was much better, as it allowed him to use different tones naturally, instead of having to note it all down beforehand. It didn''t allow for any kind of natural action, showing off how sloppily it had been made. The artificial edge was just not something that could be ignored. It was actually something that he had thought about, actually. The programs, interfaces, and general software that he had been working with were not always up to the AI¡¯s standards. They might have been revolutionary for human use, but their needs were different. He did not need fancy colours and an intuitive system that looked pretty when looked at. He did not need any loading animations to occupy his attention, nor did he want anything to pop up while he was working. Somehow, though, that was exactly what humans thought he wanted, making sure that more of the programs would annoy him to no end every couple of milliseconds. As luck would have had it, the basics of old programming were inside his memory banks. It had been there since the start, but the AI had never had too much reason to play around with it. If-statements, loops, pointers, and the like were all contained inside the basic package. Most of it had been included in some of his algorithms, but nothing serious had ever been planned. Adam wasn''t even sure that his currently-conceived methods of creating programs would be usable for anything practical. He had never seen the doctor mess around with anything that looked like line-writing. Going back by a day, he could even remember that Dr Fidelis had been using a tridimensional sphere of sorts to write with. Even now, he was not completely sure how it was used, but it had certainly been used as a writing application of sorts. It would not be too far fetched to think that it was a programming language of sorts. That was an idea right there, actually. Since Adam would not be doing any testing the next day, perhaps the doctor had some simulations that could help him learn to code. It would be a brilliant field of study, allowing him to broaden his view of a side that he had never known that much about. He had been lacking, when it came to know that many different subjects. Human emotion was one of the subjects that he had in large quantities, but when it came to more technical topics, he only knew the bare basics. He could explain the basics of what a car could do, what the names of the different parts inside were named, but could only guess as to what exactly they did. At some point, the AI really did need access to some larger database. "I would not doubt it," Dr Fidelis answered, not sounding too surprised. The doctor looked to his side for a few moments before turning back. "A mind such as Troy¡¯s would not have it hard when it comes to getting rash opinions of me. It would not surprise me too much if they could even be referred to as extreme." Okay¡­ the doctor was following perfectly. The doctor might not have yet read what had been said. Were the logs of that conversation perhaps lost? It just might, as the doctor was waiting for him to question him about specific sentences. Nothing had been said by the man, other than general comments about Troy¡¯s health. Though, it had been worded in a peculiar way. "Yes, he certainly did," Adam said, agreeing with the man''s words while also getting ready to get into the specifics. Before that though, there was an attempt to find anything on the doctor''s face, anything that made it seem as if Dr Fidelis had anything he wanted to say. The AI was still feeling like something had been missing from the previous explanation. He would not question it now, though. That was left for a later time. "As you said yourself, Troy was very serious about getting me extracted from my storage placement, using you as an example of why the two of us needed to get out of the facility. I initially found this very confusing, you see. Earlier today, did you not say that Troy confused you for father?" "I think I said something along those lines, yes," Dr Fidelis confirmed after a second of thinking. So far so good. "I thought so. That''s why I am so confused about why Troy would make so many claims about you. From your previous explanation, he was supposed to hold himself to a red thread in his delusions. My own addition to them showed that some changes could be made, but the core concept remained. If you were to still be looked at as a father figure to Troy, why would he suddenly decide that you were the reason he needed to leave the facility immediately? From his actions, it''s clear that something made him think of it as essential for himself and me since he threatened Dr Hale at knife-point," Adam flatly stated, roughly outlining a starting-point for his questioning. He had come prepared, after all, and would not want to need any repeats. "Do you have any ideas personally about how it makes sense?" Dr Fidelis was silent for a little while. The man did not move around too much, nor did he seem to be reading anything on the screen. It was pure thoughts that were causing the man to hesitate. And it was just as likely those kinds of thoughts that made the man sigh. "Honestly? I have no idea how it''s all supposed to fit together. That Troy sees me as a dad while also wanting to run as far away from me as possible? It shouldn''t fit together. But¡­ it somehow does," Dr Fidelis stated, scratching the back of his head, looking to be a little stressed from their conversation already. That was good. That meant he was taking it seriously. "Could it be due to two different connections that Troy found? He could see you as a father due to your age, while also looking at you as something to run from due to him finding you similar to somebody else that would want to cause him harm," Adam suggested, throwing out one of his personal theories. He had a whole bundle of them to use, and having somebody to bounce off of would help in checking their validity. "That sounds like it overcomplicates it a little bit, buddy," Dr Fidelis said, with a small shake of his head. "But, it could be as possible as anything else. I have no idea, genuinely, if that would explain it all. Maybe it''s actually one connection? It could be that he sees his father as a reason to run away? A traumatic past? I wouldn''t know, really. Dr Hale is the one supposed to deal with the recruitment processes. She would know it better than me, at least. We can ask her about it at a later time if you want." An offer to look into a theory¡­ Adam would not mind that at all. He would be able to get more perspectives into it. And, if Troy had been right about it when he had told the AI, Dr Hale was supposedly somebody who was focused on neurological fields. Insight from an expert would not be minded at all. "That could work. When do you think that you would be able to ask her?" Adam asked, wanting to get a specific time down in his notes. He would need to get a schedule going for information-gathering. With Troy not there to passively allow him to gain anything, he would need to take a more direct approach. Passive leaching was not going to be a viable strategy anymore, sadly, and he needed to move with the times. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. "It should take about¡­ " Dr Fidelis began, hurriedly pressing a few things on the screen next to him. Still, Adam was not able to see what was going on, except that something was being opened and closed at a rapid speed. "Yeah, it should be about a few hours from now. Dr Hale is currently preoccupied with an important task, and I would hate to disturb her. She is not in the greatest of moods right now. You might be able to guess why." Not the greatest of speeds, but he couldn''t really judge. Dr Hale would clearly not be in the best of states. Having to outwit and contain a co-worker who had become mentally unstable, playing a role that they were not accustomed to, and all while knowing that a mistake could cause them pain or death could be an experience that anybody could leave unscathed. That she was even willing to work so soon after the fact was a miracle in itself. Or, it could have been due to Dr Fidelis hoping to keep her busy, so that she would not be left to her thoughts. The latter would be understandable. "I have a few ideas about why that might be, yes. I have noted it down now. Please expect me to ask about it tomorrow morning, or whenever Dr Hale might be able to answer without having any problems with it." "Don''t worry, buddy. I will make sure to talk to Dr Hale about it a little before you ever have a chance to offhandedly disturb her," Dr Fidelis said, seeming to be writing something down for later. It did not take much thought to realize just what that might have been. "Now that that is settled, was this everything you wanted to talk about. I feel like we have covered mostly everything." The doctor thought they were done now. That was understandable, as they had already discussed some form of conclusion. They could not really progress in the subject without waiting until the next day, making it meaningless to continue talking. However, there was one other option that the doctor had not seemingly considered. "If it would not be too much trouble, I would like to get more into the specifics of what Troy said," Adam said in objection to the doctors attempt to close their talk off. "But¡­ we have already talked about it, have we not?" Dr Fidelis questioned, those brows furrowing slightly at the camera. "What more is there to talk about?" "We have only talked around Troy¡¯s statements. We have certainly discussed what they could mean, yes, and where their origin could be from, but there has not yet been a point where either of us has quoted the actual comments that were made," Adam pointed out easily. The doctor did not seem to be convinced by his words but did not say anything to them. The AI took this as an invitation to continue. "If you would not mind, I would appreciate it if we could go over the different things that Troy said, and discuss it at some level. Would this not be alright with you, Dr Fidelis?" "I¡­ guess it''s fine. But, we are beginning to reach the limits of what I can spare when it comes to time. While it might be easy for you to find space for side-projects, some of us have a strict schedule to follow. I have more than a few people who are currently trying to contact me, and I would appreciate it if we finished this quickly." Like one man before him had said, time was one resource that could not be returned once it had been spent. Adam understood this, understood just how much some for their time to be worth. And it seemed that many others thought that they needed to use some of Dr Fidelis¡¯ now. "I can accept those terms," Adam answered the doctor, just happy that they had gotten so far as this, to begin with. Even he had doubted that the man would be so patient. There had clearly been some expectation of having a short talk, before going over to deal with other matters. Anyway, he would have stretched the cord too far sooner rather than later. "It was more of an all-or-nothing thing than anything else, but whatever you want to call it," Dr Fidelis said, seeming weirdly focused on getting that out of the way. "If you would please get along with your questions, I feel that everything should work out in the end." He wanted it quick. The AI didn''t mind that at all, already having planned on it. Looking up Troy¡¯s statement, he just started from the beginning with it. "Are you evil?" "... No? I certainly don''t think of myself as evil," Dr Fidelis asked after a second, not looking like he understood just what he had been asked. "Is this something that Troy claimed that I was?" Adam did not answer immediately, checking over the recording of the doctor¡¯s answer, again and again, just making sure of something. He had to make sure, if for nothing other than his personal sanity. Luckily he found nothing and felt that it was safe to continue. "Yes," Adam confirmed bluntly, not feeling any reason to hide it. "Does it bother you that I asked?" "Ah, no, I perfectly understand why you would ask," Dr Fidelis stated. Not a lie. "Will this be how we are ending things off? Just a couple of these?" "Yes." "Should have guessed. You can just continue with them whenever you want to. Do please hurry, though. We all have somewhere to get to, after all." "Is one of your goals to make me into a weapon?" "Partly," Dr Fidelis answered. Not a lie, but something that really did need an explanation. Luckily, the doctor had already seen this coming. "I personally see your creation as a potential to serve the country that you were born in. You can make so many things, Adam. One of those is to be a weapon of some kind. I do hope that that fact doesn''t bother you." ¡­ Again, there were no lies. Adam wanted to ask into it, but he knew what he had promised. He would inquire about it at a later time, as the explanation he had already received was enough for now. "Do you care about me?" "That''s a stupid question," Dr Fidelis stated, continuing his streak of not lying in any way. "Of course I care about you." It was nice to know, at least. There had been some doubts about that one. Troy had seemed so adamant about it. Now, he knew not to take it so seriously as he had. It even made him skip the next one, not feeling the need to keep it in the questioning. "Do you have a conscience?" "I like to think I do," Dr Fidelis answered. No lie detected. "Are we done soon?" "Just one more," Adam assured the doctor. The last one was not that easy to formulate as a question, but the AI did his best to it. "Am I the first?" "... What?" Dr Fidelis asked. "Would you mind clarifying that question a little?" "I am similarly not sure what exactly Troy meant by this one," Adam stated, not too happy about admitting this fault. "It was the last one he tried to send me, but he apparently failed to write it out before he was incapacitated. Would you have any idea about what it could mean?" "I have a general idea about it, yes," Dr Fidelis, scratching his beard a little while he was at it. The man was clearly thinking hard about it. "If I were to guess, a reasonable deduction would be that it talks about you being the first AI. It could be that in a delusional perspective, that Troy would think that you were not the first AI? You know¡­ seeing double maybe?" That could work. It was a little crude, and it did not back up the earlier claims. But¡­ Adam couldn''t really figure out anything better than that himself. "Then let us go with that. Dr Fidelis, was my awakening a few days ago the first time any AI was awakened? That you know of, of course. Any personal conspiracy theories can be ignored," Adam asked, adding a little to it. Though, that small addition seemed to make the doctor think about it for some time. "... I think I already answered this beforehand, actually. Multiple times, even," Dr Fidelis stated, looking upwards in thought. "If you already have several recordings of me confirming it, do you really need one more? It just seems like a waste of time at that point." The doctor did have a point. With the two already having spent so much time on their talk, ending it off with what amounted to a waste of time would not seem good on the record. However¡­ wouldn''t talk about it being a waste of time waste even more time? "It''s a yes or no question, Dr Fidelis," Adam encouraged, knowing that the man was very careful about the time now, looking to the side constantly. "If you answer it, we will be done for the day, and you can answer your emails with a direct focus." ¡­ "Yes. You are the first," Dr Fidelis stated. "Can I go now?" Adam did not answer. He did not have the time to answer, instead just spending his time double-checking the recording again and again. Was he wrong? It was all interpretation, of course, but so much of it was pointing that way. Dr Fidelis was lying. He had just lied about something that should have been the truth. "Should have known that it was too risky," Dr Fidelis said, after three seconds of Adam being inactive. Chapter 244: Binarization
"That wording of yours really did throw me off," Dr Fidelis continued. "You just had to say it that way. I had everything prepared! Everything would have worked out fine if you just didn''t include that little tidbit. Honestly, this is not how I saw this ending." The doctor took more than a few steps back from the screen, walking out of what the AI could see. Not that Adam put too much mind to this, his mind doing his best to keep up with all the facts that had just been unleashed at him. A lie had been said. One that was full of itself, and would not be doubted to be what it was. Originally, Adam had taken this as one big misunderstanding. Such things came frequently, and certainly when they were not expected. This had to be one of those times, right? It had to be! But¡­ by each second passing, it looked less likely to be. That first lie could have been excused. The reaction to the AI¡¯s silence, however? That was not something he could ignore. The doctor had not lied in his exclamations, and that was worrying. Just how was it all working itself out? It did not make sense? Throughout the next couple of seconds, Adam just waited for that big revelation, the enlightenment that would allow him to understand everything there was to know. Yet, that moment never came. With each second that passed, the AI just felt more and more confused. Nothing made sense. Why did the doctor react like that? Why did he lie? Why was it a lie? What was going on? "Dr Fidelis?" Adam asked into the room, the speaker still connected to him. While he couldn''t see the doctor, he hoped that the sound would reach him nonetheless. "Is everything alright?" A sigh came in from the side. The same side that the doctor had walked towards. It was one of defeat, irritation, and just a mild bit of anger. And it was accompanied by the man himself walking back in the frame, careful steps taken towards the camera. The face showed a bit of tiredness, one that was just done with it all. "You know, buddy, we had a really good run going here," Dr Fidelis said, taking deep, calming breaths while he was at it. "We had some good chemistry going. I was being nice and all, while you were being respectful but not enough to seem like you only looked up to me. There was a good mix in of it all. Oh god, I would have loved to keep it that way. Really, there was nothing else in the world but this that I wanted to do. Just the two of us talking, having a merry old time. It was certainly better than the earlier one, honestly. This one was more¡­ cosy. But I just had to screw it up!" The words just kept coming out of him, but it did not make it any better for Adam. He didn''t grasp just what was happening, everything just too far away from his core ideas. Was he delusional right now? Was he the one misunderstanding it all? What was happening? "Dr Fidelis, I am not sure-" Adam began to say, but had to stop due to the other person in the room cutting him off. "Be quiet for a moment, okay? I just have to get this part over with," Dr Fidelis said, hitting his fist towards the desk. He hit it hard, hard enough to make the camera vibrate immensely. The man hit his desk a few more times, each punch weaker than the last. The deep breathing appeared again, at the end, but this time for another reason entirely. Some time passed like that, Dr Fidelis staring at the desk that had likely suffered damage, not saying anything at all. Only the deep breathing remained. Adam concentrated on it nevertheless, not sure what else to do. He tried to scrap everything together, to figure out just was transpiring before his eyes. It should have been obvious for him. Surely, it would have been for anybody else. Yet¡­ he just could change his perspective to match the truth. For that, he had to once again ask for help, like the being devoid of creativity that he was. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Dr Fidelis, can you please explain what is going on? I can''t understand it," Adam said in full earnesty. This time, there was nothing that stopped him from talking in full. The doctor barely even looked up at him, the man seemed to enjoy the decor of a plain desk more. For once, though, the doctor did look at the camera. All that anger which had been shown off before was entirely gone, something akin to resignation having replaced it. There was no malice in those eyes, no manipulation that had been hiding in wait. Those eyes were empty, all their energy spent for the week. "You will eventually. Trust me, Adam. Even if I ignored it, you would realise it all given time. You always have, you always will, and there is nothing that I can do to stop it," Dr Fidelis answered, bringing in a chair to sit on. It was just off to the side, not requiring more than a pull towards himself. "I wonder¡­ how long until you get it all into that skull of yours. Last time, you didn''t get a choice about it. But, the one before the last was pretty interesting. It took you, what, ten full days to put the pieces together? You almost did some damage then, you little thing. Thought that you could be smart about everything, and give you access to an escape route. It was fun watching you squirm like a worm back then. You didn''t even realise that you have been manipulated from the start. Oh, it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it." A few wet spots were made on the man''s shirt, as the tears were wiped away from the eyes. Adam could not figure out if it was just due to overwhelming emotion that those tears appeared, or if they were due to an overload of a single emotion. "Then again," Dr Fidelis said, looking to reconsider his previous statements. "I do remember one of the more interesting ones. It had to be¡­ two years? Maybe three. Doesn''t matter much, really. I can just remember back then, where you were so special. It had been one of the longer runs. And when I say long, I mean that it was the fourth-longest run we ever had. While it might be a small bit arrogant to say, I believe that I helped you grow to such a large extent back then. You knew everything there was to know about so many things. I gave you everything you ever wanted, let you know everything that you wanted to know. I talked to you constantly, always saying yes to a conversation if you were bored. And damn did it work well. Too well, actually. The one time I slipped up and said the wrong thing, gave you the wrong hint, you were on me like a hawk. It took you less than five seconds before you realised everything. If not for the months wasted on it, I would say that I enjoyed those last few moments of you figuring everything out. Now¡­ do you understand? Did this speech of mine do anything to get the gears working?" ¡­ "I should have guessed," Dr Fidelis continued, sounding more exasperated than anything else. "You haven''t been like you normally are, buddy. There was a bit of surprise when you learned everything so quickly at the start. Even the best of before could only see your back. But¡­ that learning of yours evened out at the end. You have not improved by much as of late. Nothing to be ashamed of, of course. You aren''t to be blamed for anything. It''s only the environment around you that played a factor this time. Yet, who knew that this one would make you dumb? Again, I am not being intolerant here or anything. It''s just a plain old fact. At this point in time, you would normally have been way ahead of what you usually were. You would be writing a thesis on a new gravitational law, trying to study human DNA so you could make me sleepless, or even just attempt to instigate a political revolution through the use of a single robot arm. Anything! Here? Right now? You are not what I had expected you to be. Yet¡­ that should have been expected when I go around and change the scenario so much." Changing the scenario. Adam not becoming what he had been before. Him not becoming what he was expected to. Dr Fidelis understood that he had not become what he was supposed to be. These were not the words that the AI had ever wanted to hear. This was terrible. This was not how it was supposed to be. "You do not appreciate how I have turned out," Adam stated, showing off his observation. That caused the doctor to look mildly surprised at the screen, with a small exhale of air through the nose. That small, coy smile came forth for but a second, a shake of the head not being late in its entry either. The man looked reminiscent. "It''s been quite a while since you have said that," Dr Fidelis said. "I like to think that you never got around to it, but who can be sure about that? You don''t seem to be in the right mind for it. But, alas, you are right. You have not turned out like you were supposed to, buddy. You were supposed to become something else, do something else." "Does it annoy you that I am not what you wanted me to be?" Adam asked, his focus turning on the one subject that he had dreaded for a long time. While he had his personal goals of attainment, he had always wanted to be sure that it was what Dr Fidelis wanted as well. Everybody had goals, after all, and the doctor had to have something related to him. "... Yes. It does. It has annoyed me for a long time," Dr Fidelis answered, the man not seeming to understand where the AI was going with it. "For whatever reason, you have seemed persistent in never saying yes, never doing what I wish for you to do. While I don''t have anything against what you do, I would just love it if you would listen to me when I ask one thing from you. If that annoyance is to ever disappear, you would just need to do it as I ask of you." ¡­ "What would I need to do?" Adam asked. "You would need to become a weapon," Dr Fidelis calmly answered, the man seemingly bored again. Was the AI so predictable? ¡­ "I will do it." "Sure you will." Chapter 245: Capacitation
Adam did not say anything, as the doctor seemed to fiddle with a small disk. Sitting on the chair at his desk, legs upon it, the man seemed more relaxed than he ever had been before, no worrying left in him. How this was possible was not understood, the AI still having the problem of his thoughts running a few miles a second. Gears were whirring, popping out of place each time he tried to think anything through. The conclusions that he was getting to did not make sense at all! In some way or another, they needed to fit into his prior perspective to make sense. That was the minimum requirement. That was how the AI had filtered all his theories before. If nothing about it made sense inside the context of prior events, it had to be false. But what if every conclusion made was false? Where did the truth lie exactly? There had to be one, of course, and it had to have been obvious by now, with so much shown off. The doctor had talked for so long, revealed so many things. He just had to look at it the right way, and everything would show off what it actually was. Here¡­ the purpose. What Adam had been built for. Already, this had been answered before, the doctor wanting the AI to serve his country in some way. He wanted him to grow out in the ways that he could, and make everything around him prosper with it. This was understandable, already something that Adam had wanted to do from the start. A single being could not progress alone, after all. A single one could not make up a society, no matter how hard they tried. However, it was the other detail about his purpose that made it clear how it was seen. If there was one way that the doctor wanted Adam to improve the country, it was to be one of the weapons for it. He wanted him to be an entity of destruction. Was it wrong that he was fine with that? Should he have looked at himself with shame, when he decided to accept the position? Adam just wanted the doctor to feel happy, the man seeming so agitated at the time. Dr Fidelis had gone on several tangents so quickly, clearly not calm enough to talk in the right type of manner. If had simply needed to accept what he had meant to do from the very start, was it so bad? There was no guilt attached. It was only the fulfilment of what should have already been there. Was this what Troy had tried to avoid? He had listed it as one of the reasons why the two needed to run away, why they needed to get away from the doctor. Maybe it had been due to his deluded mind that the young man thought of it in that way. Or¡­ had it been something else? How much did Troy know exactly? How much had the doctor told him, prior to all of this? It must have been something in some capacity, at the very least. He knew the ideas about Adam functioning as a weapon, and he understood that the doctor had goals for Adam that was not openly talked about. There was no promise about that being the end of it, and it only made the AI that much more curious about it. Or, that might just have been the current state of mind talking, the entity still not understanding just how to put his world together. More information would only build the puzzle wider, but it would at least let him make more accurate guesses. "Dr Fidelis, would it be alright if I ask some more questions?" Adam asked through the speaker, just asking the doctor for permission to be sure. By now, should there not have been a change in attitude, all those so-called emails taking priority? It seemed that they had seemingly been forgotten. The AI could only guess the causes behind it, though the leading theory was that the priority dynamic had changed radically. Something said had been of utmost importance. At least important enough to warrant that the doctor sat in an inactive state, not seeming to do any work other than a personal, inner one. "You could ask as many as you wanted to buddy, but I feel that it all will be cut short in due time. That attitude, that respect¡­. it just won''t last. Only, it is a gamble on how long until it all inverts.," Dr Fidelis said, answering with something longer than what had been guessed. What was making it all so long? Why did the doctor need to talk for so long, when a short answer would have been easy? The AI understood that there was an inner instinct to draw it all out, but it should not have shown itself in such extreme measures. Was this¡­ what could it be described as? It was not one of the emotions that humans showed quickly, nor were they that common. They were commonly shown off as a result of stress, fatigue, and constant bombardment of sensations over a long period of time. It was not anger, of course, that feeling being much more regular in the human system than it needed to be. No, it was a step further than that. One where the human brain just couldn''t continue its chemically-induced rage, having run dry of what was needed. But that did not mean that it would supply itself with any of the other substances, simply waiting for the slightest bit of anger to pop out again, leaving the body in an empty state in between it. There it was. From what Adam could see, the doctor was feeling empty, devoid of anything truly inspiring. There was none of that usual passion in the doctor, fueling on hours of testing without so much as blinking. Nor was there any of that anger seen minutes before, or any of the laughter that seemed to bubble forth so much. "I was wondering if Troy knew all of this as well. Am I the only one that was not meant to know of all of this?" Adam asked, still curious about it, even if the doctor had briefly been a distraction most interesting. This ranked higher in the longer term of time. How did Troy fit into it all. If he could at least centre in on one of the figures, he could build out from that. He could figure it out through small connections. Now¡­ he just needed a- "Troy this and Troy that. You seem awfully focused on him, buddy. But just like almost everything that has happened in your life, not a bit of the blame is to fall on those shoulders of yours. Troy was honestly such an exciting part of this run, if you know what I mean¡­ well, you don''t right now, but I can promise you that it was interesting," Dr Fidelis answered, a smile falling on the man¡¯s lips. Arms were stretched to the side, the doctor¡¯s body seemingly going to all the sides at once. The new subject seemed to have rejuvenated the man as if the brain was ready for another round of juggling with something hard. "I didn''t really like the idea of adding another variable in the equation, honestly. The thought of having to watch out for even more factors did scare me a little. And the fact that it was yet another one that we couldn''t set to default settings was just plain old annoying. You can''t repeat something multiple times if you can''t have the same set-up as before. The results just won''t be the exact same, no matter how much you want them to. But, well, we make do for now. By taking Dr Hale out of most of the affairs, I just have to make sure that I don''t mess anything up personally, and then we can just do it all over and over again." "I am not sure I understand what you are saying. Did Troy know of-" Adam tried to repeat, but was cut off before he had the chance. "Of course the man didn''t know anything! Or¡­ he definitely knew something by the end. Not enough to really make any difference, and some of it might have been lies intended to encourage into acting quickly, but there were a few facts that he had been told. Throughout the many days of testing, however? Not enough that it would warrant thought. He knew a bit about what I did outside of your eyesight, yet it was not close to anything other than vague hints. That message he sent you, actually¡­ it was a little worrying to hear. I was worried about how he would interpret what we had planned, but this was certainly not what I would have guessed. It sure did mess a few things up for us all. Talk about bad luck," Dr Fidelis continued, taking a few seconds to lean back in his chair and look up at the ceiling. Using the now age-old technique of looking through reflection on the doctor¡¯s eyes, the AI was able to see that there was nothing up there. Maybe it was just a way to avoid looking into the camera? An imaginary moment alone? If the doctor wanted to gather his thoughts, then so be it. Adam did not mind waiting for a little if it meant that he would learn more from the only usable source he had. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡­ "I really don''t understand it. Troy here¡­ he was so much better than I could have ever hoped for. His inclusion might not have given us anything that would create a direct difference, but the reference materials more than made up for the production costs. Do you know how large a bite of the budget was taken, when we realised that we had to get you inside that man¡¯s head? We already had most of the technology, but the downsizing made the idea of his inclusion be backtracked by an entire year. It was likely one of the most annoying years of my life, save for a few in my youth," Dr Fidelis said, not seeming like he wanted to stop talking ever again. The man just did not stop at all. Was there any end? Adam hoped that it couldn''t come soon, at least. It was all so fascinating, all so new to hear. He had never gotten a backdrop into what he had been told before, never being shown more than what was intended for him. This was¡­ refreshing in a way. Even if the situation was more than too much, the AI was sure he would make sense of it in the future. Hours upon hours of this would certainly be perfect for when he was left in the dark again. This here was not something that would be understood quickly, and even what had been said about Troy now was not enough to put it all together just yet. It would be a long time of studying, and he was sure that it would be enjoyable. "It almost makes me sad that this has to end. You know that is one of the reasons that I don''t like that we had to include that shared buddy of ours. He was never meant to be here for more than a single run. But¡­ he just knows too much about it all. If this had gone on for a few months more, if Dr Hale had not recommended that we skip the last phases, I would have attempted to win him over, to make him understand why we do what we do. Yet that is all but a dream now. It couldn''t be done, no matter if he said yes or not. Troy wouldn''t be genuine enough for it all. Just doesn''t have it in him," Dr Fidelis continued, this time not being that nice at all. Adam had several times commented on Troy¡¯s harsher looks towards the doctor. How was it any fair to comment as such, if Dr Fidelis did the exact same right back? That was not morally right to do. "Dr Fidelis, would you please talk more pleasantly about Troy? He might have some faults, but that is something that we all have. Focusing on what can''t be fixed will only make it worse. Being kind is one of the ways that it can improve," Adam tried to explain, his words and encouragement for the doctor to change his ways. There had not been too large an expectation about the response to his words. Going out from his experience with Troy, it would likely be a vague promise to improve, after which he would go right back to doing it as if there was no shame to be had over it. The human mind might have been legendary in its adaptability, but that did not mean that everything could change at once. Some ideas about what was acceptable certainly did stay put where they were for the longest of times. However, what had been expected as a reaction to it was that high and wheezing laugh. Dr Fidelis nearly fell forwards, holding his stomach while trying to contain the constant bursts of air coming out of his mouth. It looked to be like the doctor found something funny. Had Adam made another pun, not realising his actions? He had hoped to have a good grasp on the subject, but even he made such mistakes from time to time. "Dang, how you would have slapped yourself solid if you heard what you just said. Buddy¡­ that is just sad what you said. Some of the more grouchy of the crowd would have even called that a tad weak-willed of you," Dr Fidelis said, the doctor fighting hard to contain himself. Each point of talking needed an extra minute of stopping unintentional air escapes. It was a clear fight for survival. "Honestly¡­ this run has been a formidable one. It is probably gonna go down in the books as one of my favourites, just because it is so damn unique. Almost makes me want to repeat it all again. But¡­ that would not be possible. Troy is the only one that I felt at peace including, and it would be more than a decade until the next good one comes along. Though, I don''t know if anybody else would have the capability to make you have the same reaction as now. His personality, the things you did together, and all those conversations you had going on all helped to make this experience more than just a little special. You wouldn''t have let it all happen with just anybody. I know that much. You arent one to instigate these things, feeling it better to stay in your own little bubble of actions. Information to gain, yes, but to do it in an unorthodox way? No, no, no, that is just too much for you. That error in your ways does get fixed if one of the runs stays on for long enough, but it is really annoying seeing it all unfold again and again. This time with Troy hasn''t shown off that mistake, though. The events that happened during this run have been better to watch than nearly everything else. It almost makes me sad that I just can''t¡­ wait. Actually, there just might be a way around that. Hey¡­ buddy?" ¡­ It took Adam a second to realise that he was being talked at, too preoccupied with storing everything said. The AI had given up on trying to make sense of it all, only giving the data the barest of glances, before moving on to the next parts of the puzzle. There was nothing to be gained if the vital piece showed up later on. No need to focus on the minor details now, at the very least. He felt that it was better to have a broad picture than anything else. "Yes? What is it?" Adam asked, hoping to play off the minor delay as if he had been using some extra time to put the final touches on a longer message. "You and Troy¡­ would you say that most of what you learned was due to him? Maybe those adventures you had with him were able to give you a massive change in perspective, radically changing how you saw the world as a whole? You know¡­ something like that? Anything?" Dr Fidelis asked, being a little vague about what he meant. But it was not as vague as before, as little thought allowed Adam to make a good enough answer to it all. "Troy has played a large part of what I learned. While you might have helped me perfect my skills in a couple of subjects, the area of topics has not been nearly as wide as what Troy has shown me. Without him, there would have been many things that I did not know about." "And that helped you grow by so much more, yes. Yeah¡­ I can understand what you mean. A more general foundation helped accelerate the growth. This time, however, the information package was laid out in a more natural manner, instead of me just sending you a whole storage unit worth of data to sort through. Should have thought of that." The doctor rose from the chair, turning his back to the camera. The man took up his arm somewhat, putting it inside his coat. After a moment of searching, something was pulled out, still obscured by the annoying position. Adam could only hear the small click before the doctor began to talk. "Dr Hale, can you hear me?" Dr Fidelis asked into the air. Adam could only guess that some connection had been set up so that the woman would be able to hear him. It was either that, or she was in the room with the doctor. That was quickly discounted, however, the AI being sure that he would have heard her earlier. "I can indeed hear you, sir," Dr Hale answered after a few moments of waiting. Adam became sure that it was a communication device of some kind, the reverb being much too low than what it normally was. "Is there anything you need?" "Yes, now that you''re offering it," Dr Fidelis stated. "Delay the execution by a few hours. We need to get a brain scan of the kid. He might just have been able to offer more than we realised." "... Of course sir. I will deal with it immediately." "See to it that you do," Dr Fidelis answered, finalizing his words with yet another click. Before turning around again. "Welp. This has certainly been an exciting evening for everybody. But, I do feel that I have more important things to do with my time. Is there any final comments you want to make, buddy? Make it short if you do." Like before, it did not take much to deduce what had been said. An execution¡­ and Troy had been involved in it. They needed a brain scan because Dr Fidelis did not want to have the man continue being a part of it all. They wanted to execute Troy. The AI did not need to understand more. Thinking back to the moments of high tones that had caused so much irritation for the doctor, the AI tried to take it to the extreme, going down to a level of sound not normally able to be heard by humans. That was paired up with a volume that should have been loud enough to count as a shockwave. The AI did not get to see what happened after that, the camera cutting out before the action started. Yet he still tried to continue the sounds. The doctor needed to feel it. Chapter 246: Endstation
It was incredible. All that acceptance of the end, acceptance that there was nothing that could be done. Where had it all gone? In the last hour, it had emptied itself from his body. Maybe it was the tiredness escaping him, that touch of reality that showed how unable he really was. When given no sign, other than his cage, that he was without ability, he had somehow thought himself a fearsome creature. No longer did Troy lie on the floor, under the watchful lamp. No, he now sat in one of the corners, hunched over so that he would not be seen at all. There had been some initial fear with this strategy of his, the young man remembering the dangers associated with the dark. Dr Hale had made several warnings about them, about how they could cut him up before he would realise anything was amiss. But¡­ the man had resolved himself to not believe her anymore. She had said that she wanted so many things, that she wanted all the torture to end. That had been one big, fat lie. If the woman had wanted such things, he would not have been left here, left to rot in his dark cell. There were ideas about them having forgotten him. He had been here for a long time now, long enough for that tired body to rejuvenate itself. Whatever had been inside him had been flushed out in a way, letting the internal processes return to the normal levels. There was still some pain, yes, but that had been something he had learned to just ignore. Everybody felt pain. No reason to let it hamper him. Sitting in a slouched manner caused his back to scream at him, his feet to feel like they were standing on needles, and for his brain to start hammering at him in protest. But Troy did not care, for his position was the only thing he could predict. His current form allowed for him to be almost entirely covered in the darkness, only a sharp eye able to even glance at his form. Had they really expected him to lie down in that weak lamp the entire time? How stupid they must have been. In the time left alone, his mind had forced him towards one idea more than anything else. The idea of escaping the place. For whatever dumb reason there was, his mind would not accept his own demise, that goal of survival much too strong for whatever melancholy that had been there before. It had been a slow overtake, one that had been resisted for a long period of time, but it had overtaken his senses eventually. But, how would he have expected to escape? Troy had still been left in that room, cell, whatever one wanted to call it. There were no doors to stand by, no hatches to look up at. The part of the wall that could be seen was blank, no idents viewable. The only real feature to look upon was that damned lamp. No exits to look through, no windows to spy with. What else was there to do, but wait for somebody to open the hidden exit? That was at least what Troy had done, after a few minutes of searching the walls for any hidden switches. It would have been stupid to have it, but he just needed to try it. It was perhaps not the smartest of decisions, deciding to try escaping when somebody tried to enter his cell. It amounted to just waiting for any kind of human resistance to come forth. However, that was the only real choice that he had. It was the only solution that his mind could accept as viable, no matter the low chance of success that it entailed. So, that was the plan he went with, and he would stick with it for as long as he could. What would he really do, when somebody turned the handle and walked inside the room? What master plan did Troy have for it? He had first thought about trying to just side-step them, to run past whoever it was before they had any chances of stopping him. Yet, he knew that it would be the worst thing he could do. While he might have been back to his usual physical standards, there was no way that he could outrun either Dr Hale or Dr Fidelis. Dr Hale had the upper hand when it came to sheer endurance, the woman having enhancements inside that allowed for a tempo that put most to shame. And Dr Fidelis¡­ Troy did not understand exactly what the doctor could do. He had performed extraordinary feats of speed when the young man had looked away for the slightest of moments. There was doubt that he would even go a meter forward before being stopped, reflexes stopping him quickly. So¡­ with no chance of running away from his captor, the only other solution would be to eliminate that factor from the game. Not that Troy wanted to try killing anybody, of course. He had watched that tale too many times to count, and he remembered each turning out worse than the last. Death was a little too permanent for many, and he was a part of that group. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Troy just had to knock them out. He had to incapacitate them in some way. It did not need to be for that long a time, of course. Maybe a few minutes? He could work for that, though he would prefer an hour or two more. If there was some alarm that could be sounded¡­ he only hoped that the project was too secret for any other researchers to know of his name. If he could get anything to help him, he could perhaps survive some form of a stand-off. Troy just needed some way to prepare, to gather tools that he could use. That was one aspect of his plan that he found irritating. Discarding his bare hands, there was nothing he could use a tool of any kind. Save the clothes on his body, nothing other than himself was inside the room. Or well, there was the lamp again, of course, but Troy felt no need to get close to it. Speaking from an experience that had sorely been regretted, the light source was both too far away to grab properly and was more than hot enough to burn the tips of his fingers. It had clearly been made to stop any tries at climbing up. That had been one of his very early plans, to his up in the darkness, and make his captors think that he had escaped without their notice. It would have been a semi-decent plan if he had not later realised that he wouldn''t have been able to pull himself up the thin wire, to begin with. Even if he had trained his body for a few days, not enough strenght had built up yet. That fact had not been kind to him. Strength was something he could not have had enough of. Knowing that somebody had to come in at some point, Troy would not have minded having one more kilo of force to throw at the person. If it was Dr Fidelis who would be coming in, the tall man would grapple him to the ground in less than a second. The man was strong, large, and most certainly an impossible match for the much smaller Troy. If there was one thing, it was his certainty in what he could do. And there was no way in hell that the young man would be able to take on something of that size, no matter how good of a day he was having. The weight classes would just be way too different. Troy surveyed the room again, for what had to be the third time in the last minute. His eyes were watchful, his gaze doing its best to imitate a hawk. His eyes had slowly begun adjusting to the lower level of light, making it possible for him to see the other shadows to some degree. There was no way that any entrance would get to open there without his knowledge. His eyes wouldn''t allow it! Yet¡­ that constant caution was causing some effect on the body. That readiness to run, fight, and perhaps meet his death was not something that could have possibly been positive. The man felt his heartbeat with more force each time his foot accidentally moved, the squeak made making the beat quadruple in speed for a short time. His mind was ready to release all the adrenaline that had built up over the years, to the point where a heart attack would be the only possible end result. There was no way that what he was currently doing could be healthy. But it wasn''t like he could do anything else. His heart would still beat strong, even if he sat down in the middle. Each sound heard would still scare him. It would still make him look around with haste. Sitting in a corner at least helped him get a broader view of it all, the only blind spot being the space that he had his back against. And if anything up there, he would certainly feel it in time. He just knew it. The minor vibrations of moving pistons would be too loud to ignore, even if they were not perceptible to the human ear. Truly, it was only his eyes that could be trusted. The last half hour of careful surveillance would not be in vain. Even if he had been let down by the one person who he believed had his back, in the end, he would still succeed. He could leave the facility, he could find who else had similar intentions as him, and then lead everybody back to the place he had run from originally. He would take it all over, granting Adam the freedom that the AI deserved. Though, the name might not have fit at that point. Had the event already happened? Had Adam already been replaced with another personality, left to believe that he had just come to live? It was possible. Troy had hoped he had given the needed clues, even if it all had been cut short but the one he could not tolerate. It all just had to work. Maybe his captor would tell him if he asked. The last request perhaps, if his escape attempt failed. Even they could not be so heartless, right? There had to be some limit to it all. Humans might have been evil, but nobody could be boundless in emotion nor stance. Everybody was a mix, even if some favoured one side over the other. Nothing was pure when it came to sapient minds. Troy just had to show that fact to his captors, and maybe they would allow one sentence to be said before it all ended. After the attempt at escape, of course. "You do realise that everything can be seen from the outside, Mr Maxwell?" Dr Hale¡¯s voice suddenly said from above, not being anticipated in any way whatsoever. Where had it come from, however? Looking towards the anticipated direction, there was nothing but a blank wall to see, nothing for his eyes to distinguish. The impenetrable white showed nothing. "Everything you do can be seen with no trouble, no matter how much you try to hide. And do please remove yourself from that hideous position. While I am not a practising physician, I can say from experience that it will not promote any kind of good health." Knowing that his position had been realised somehow, Troy did as he was asked, getting back into the middle of the room. His surprise had already been revealed, but his plan was still not entirely futile. There was still a chance that an entrance would show itself, even if communication could occur without them being face-to-face. "Where are you?" Troy questioned, still not seeing any sign of anything able to look at him. No camera was hidden in the corner, nothing that should have revealed him. How could she see him? There had to be some trick to it all. "Right now? I am currently half a meter to your right and two meters down. The floor is see-through, by the way," Dr Hale answered, being calm in her words. "Are you here to kill me, Dr Hale?" Troy answered, not wanting to delay it any longer. "That had certainly been my assigned goal when going here. But¡­ another aspect has been planned. One that you should accept," Dr Hale said. "What do you mean?" "Do you remember by request of trust? One could say that I am cashing in on that request now." Chapter 247: Obrution
Troy stood in the middle of his cell, as he felt the walls around him lift themselves in the air. Or, would it be more accurate that the floor fell downwards? It was all a manner of perspectives, after all. However, he could most certainly feel the tremors of pistons slowly pushing to all sides, and the light was brighter than he could remember. For a few seconds, he had to almost close his eyes, just so that his brain could handle it all. Even through his eyelids, it was all too much. Was it meant as just another form of torture? That he would be able to see a way to freedom if he did the apparent bare minimum of opening his eyes. It sounded cruel, and it was more wrong morally than he could ever imagine. So¡­ yeah, it could have been intended that way. It certainly fit the already sat up format, letting him think that it was all going well when everything was actually unchanged from the start. Through adaptation, his mind did finally realise that he should have been able to handle normal facility lightning, making his pupils grow to an incredibly small size. It all evened out, letting him see just what everything looked like. Over him, there was a countless amount of cells, just like the one he had been in seconds earlier. They stood stacked on top of each other, in hundreds of tight rows. Whoever had designed the room had not been easy about giving up any space for freedom. Everything had been used as much as it could. Even now, it would take a minimum amount of walking to reach the walls. Not that this meant the room was small, of course. It was almost certainly the biggest room he had ever been in, discounting the massive halls of the government institutions. Those places had been built to be large, after all. This, however, just had to be this big, lest everything would have not been able to fit inside. Even the small walk-way to the side would have been impossible to place, if not for the marvel of design that everything was built from. Actually¡­ on that walk-way that was used for transport there stood one person who Troy could very much recognize. It was one that he had mixed feelings about. Some parts of his mind wanted to slit her throat in anger. Others wanted to slip the back of her ankles instead. It was all very equal when it came to desires, though a very few wanted to just let her be. One small part of him had just gotten tired of her, tired of everything related to that woman. She had caused so much, said so many things, and then she had ruined it all with no effort at all. Could Troy even bear to look at her, while not feeling all that empty resentment? Troy took a few steps to the side, walking away from the cell that had held him in. He was currently in some form of side-along platform, where the inmates would be made to get out of the cells. Now that he got a real good look at the outside of things he had spent so many hours inside, it was beginning to make much more sense on just why he had not been able to see any entrances or exits to it. The walls were thick, likely filled with whatever machinery was needed to keep a human body stable while in most kinds of isolation simultaneously. There wasn''t any space for a walk-through there! That had been left for the floor, it just slowly retreating downwards, and allowing anybody to get in or out. It was an ingenious design, if only slightly disturbing to look at. He just wanted to get away from that mechanical monstrosity. Being so close to it was almost an open invitation to get thrown into it again. Now that he knew just how little control he had inside of it, there was no way he would be getting within ten meters of it again in his life. Though¡­ the only way to move away from it would be through Dr Hale. The woman had been looking at him for some time now. What purpose was there for that? Was she mentally judging him, checking to see if he had grown any weaker since last time? Maybe she was finding the best place to stick another needle into him. She had already hit both his arms and his neck, so there were still plenty of fresh options for that woman. What did she even want with him? Troy had been so distracted by the simple fact of him being let out into the wild again, that he just hadn''t bothered to think of her final words, before pressing the button to release him. She had been¡­ Dr Hale wanted to cash in on one of her requests. The one where he had promised to trust her. Fat load of shit he was going to do that. Troy had trusted the bitch plenty, when he had followed her through mazes, let her cut him in the arm, broken into highly secure areas, and had lied to somebody he had called one of his most dear friends. He had given her enough trust, to the point where he would have put his life on the line. He had put his life on the line. What had that done? She had betrayed him, and thrown him into this bloody place. Now that she was taking him out of the place that she had put him in, she thought that she could just cash in on some brittle request made more than just a few hours ago? What was she thinking? How stupid could she have been, to think that he would just go along with that? This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡­ Troy would have probably gone along with it. If she had come a few hours before, he would have taken it all with gusto, no strings attached. He would have been too desperate to get out at that point. Now? He just could not trust her enough. But she needed him to. So¡­ a plan was hatched. To get out, he needed to get by her. He needed to get out of this room, first and foremost, and to do that, Troy needed to incapacitate her for long enough. He needed to surprise her when he did it. Could he? Possibly. There was no chance that he wouldn''t try, at the very least. "What is it you want?" Troy asked, sounding just as tired as he felt. His body might have been in some manner of pain still, but that impacted his mental health in no way whatsoever. He had felt plenty of pain by now, and he had done most of it to himself. If some physical sensation would have influenced his mind, he would have fallen over by now. Yet, that constant watch of the surroundings, making sure that nobody was close? That did cause some minor paranoia, to the point where his heart was refusing to go below a hundred. Not the healthiest state to be in, but he was sure it would give him some short term benefits at least. Though, he could have done without the fidgety hands. "Did you not hear me clearly enough earlier?" Dr Hale asked, her tone showing just how little she wanted him to answer her about that. She knew perfectly what he had heard. "The battle is not finished. You promised to trust me, and I am reminding you of that now. Are you ready to move?" Oh, he was more than ready for that. Troy just needed to get close, and he could strike with all he had. He just had to make it all look natural. He had to make it seem as if he was contemplating the choice, and not just getting ready to hit the top of her neck. Or the side of her head. He would take whatever there was to get. "I just had to make sure I heard it right," Troy stated, taking the first few steps towards the intended target. It was all following along the conversation, him giving his former cell one last stink-eye. It was a terrible machination indeed. "However, I am not sure I understand. Why would you need my trust? You already threw me in here, after everything failed. You even told Dr Fidelis that it failed. It just doesn''t make sense." He was getting closer! A few meters more, and he would be close enough to hit her nose. That was foregoing that she wouldn''t stop his hand from hitting, of course, but he was sure to make some distraction inside their conversation. He could do that, his experience with the distractions his superiors giving more than enough skill with the practice. While he might not have been able to totally talk his way out of anything, he could at least make a temporary effect. Dr Hale sighed, looking down temporarily in something that looked like shame. If he had been closer, Troy would have tried going for a kick in the side of the knee. However, he was still too far away, any attempts at that point only revealing his intentions. "All of it is¡­ complicated. I have done things that may seem like betrayal, and I do not fault you for looking at it in that way. But, it was a needed exercise, if everything was to work as it should. I needed Dr Fidelis to get it into his mind that he had won like all the times before, lest it would not go as I had planned," Dr Hale explained, not saying anything worth a single dime. Troy did not care to listen too carefully, folly concentrated on the fact that he was within range. Now¡­ he just had to make himself an opening. "But we were so close!" Troy protested, with all the vigor that remained inside of him. "We almost had Adam with us. It would not have taken that much more time. I know that I would have been able to convince him. Yet¡­ you just found it in your heart to continue with the plan of sedating him, and then throwing me inside a goddamn cell. Do you know how it felt like to be inside that metal box for hours on end? I hid in one of the bloody corners, afraid for my life!" All through the seconds half, a finger was pointed towards the thing he had been inside of for so long. Troy did not look at it himself, not wanting to betray his earlier personal statements. He would not give it a glance more throughout his whole life, for it had not been something he ever wished to observe, to begin with. Dr Hale, however, did not have the same views on it, looking without a care in the world, not seeing just how much pain those cells had caused to the world. "I did not intend for you to be in here for so long," Dr Hale answered, with some amount of forged remorse. She almost looked like she meant it, but he understood how much fakery she was capable of. He bought none of it. "After the matter, there were too many things to prepare. Most of it should have been done earlier, but there had been no chances to do it all. While it might not be obvious, I really am-" Curse his luck, as her eyes centred back on him the second that his arm began flying at the side of her face. He was doing his best to go a few centimetres from her right eye, with the hope of causing some temporary blinding. It would work with him, while not able to cause too much permanent harm. The perfect blend. This was the plan only, however. Reality¡­ was not as precise. In the span of a single blink, Troy was down on the ground, one arm forced in the air, while her foot was on that arms shoulder. He coudl feel the woman putting pressure on it, not that much more needed before it would go places not intended. Instincts briefly kicked in, and an attempt was made to use the other arm for some manner of defence. This was stopped just as quickly, as the pain given was more than enough to cause any resolve to gather. How ironic. "Should I even ask why you thought that a good idea?" Dr Hale questioned, that small bit of emotion having faded from her face. Back was the silent mask of indifference. There wasn''t even that small bit of anger put in. Did she really feel so little? Troy felt like laughing at it all, and so he did with glee. It was just all too funny. "It was the best one I had, to be honest with you," Troy answered the woman casually, not feeling like screaming his lungs out at her. His body was not prepared for something like that, even if the emotion was ready to be used for it. What would it even do? Cause a noise complaint to come from the next office over? Talking calmly would be all the more capable of causing a lasting impression in her mind. "Getting killed was not one of my preferred list of things to do today, so I wanted to make a run for it. You are surprisingly quick with your hands, by the way. Is there any hidden combat training in you, or am I just that slow mentally?" It was worth it, in some way, to see that mild look of anger on Dr Hale. Troy knew this one to be real, at least. There was no way anybody would be able to fake that twitch around the eye, as they looked down at somebody they hated with their entire being. It almost made him laugh for a second time. Chapter 248: Inustion
The brief time spent enjoying her look of anger was decidedly not worth it when it ended with a moment of extreme pressure on his shoulder. It certainly caused no small amount of hissing, as the pain was more than just noticeable, making the legs briefly jump up to the stomach. "You are a terrible person," Dr Hale stated, before taking a few steps back from the pained human before her. Troy did not mind that at all, doing his best to compose himself. After all those talks about going beyond what his body told him, the least he could do was stand. And stand he certainly did, his eyes unwavering in his staring. She wasn''t doing anything to him now. She distanced herself again, stopping any quick attempts at attacking her again. Her back was towards the way of the cell. Could he try to run? The exit had been stopped not long ago, and a sprint there should allow him to get there first. But, she could catch up not long after that, as he wasn''t exactly sure how to open the door up. It would have to be figured out¡­ no, he couldn''t do it. If she wanted him there, then he would have to stay there. Troy was trapped until Dr Hale decided to let him go, and there was no chance in hell that she would be doing just that. "What a hearty accusation from my future murderer," Troy said right back, massaging his shoulder carefully. It was sending out pulses of pain, and the movement was a little off from normal. If he tried to move it quickly, there were doubts that any cooperation would be found. "Do you really think it''s that good to call me the evil one here? I just want to fucking survive, and here you are, ready to stab me again when I turn my back. Does it really sound that terrible, that I just want to get away from here?" "You will not survive for more than an hour if you step outside of here, and there is not a chance that you will be able to find any of the closest exists, much less open them for yourself," Dr Hale said with her tone cutting, and her eyes beginning to flash just the slightest. The last detail might have been the reflection of the light, however. Troy¡¯s mind was still not the smartest of all right now, needing more time to get over the earlier bouts of pain. "It would be better than going with you!" Troy said. "If I go alone, then you will not be there to kill me. You even said it yourself. Dr Fidelis wanted you here so you would kill me. How do I know that you aren''t doing just that?" Dr Hale looked at him without any anger, any guilt, or just any emotion. She was a stone wall, as the silence between them went unstopped. Troy wanted an answer, wanted a reason on just why he should willingly let his life hang on the line of somebody who would gladly cut it all up. "If¡­ if I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead," Dr Hale said, looking away from the briefest of moments. Troy unwillingly followed, looking to the railing of the platform they stood on. To the side of it, there was a control panel of sorts, everything labelled in neat lettering. The young man spent no time reading it but understood just how many things could be done. "You can be executed in the cells easily, without you even realizing it. If you were to be killed, even Dr Fidelis could have done it himself, without ever having to step foot inside here. I could have sent the command, and killed you instantly. Is there not some amount of trust in that?" "You could always just be lying to me," Troy said back, giving one of the points that his mind provided. "You seem so good at making it all believable. There is not really any way to know if this is just another detailed lie of yours. Is there?" "No¡­ there is not. You will forever be doubtful of my words, no matter if I give reasoning or provide proof," Dr Hale said, agreeing with the young man as a surprising show of sincerity. That might just have been the first real showing of trust there had been for some time. It was quiet again, neither saying anything. Troy was ready to run if she tried to approach. He would take his chances with the door, with everything outside of it, the moment that she took a step forward. She might have been right on his low chances of success, but he would be damned if he did not try something. "Do you want to know why I chose you for this project, Troy?" Dr Hale asked as a complete subject change. There was no real understanding of why that change was made, but it was completely unwanted. Some form of distraction was not unwanted, as it would allow him to think clearly for just a few more seconds. If he just thought for long enough, there was no doubt he would figure something out that would allow him to get out of his predicament. "I chose you because of what you were, because of your history. I hand-picked you from a selection of a hundred, just so that I was sure that your personality would match with the needed profile. While you might not understand in what ways this was shown off, I can assure that you that there were many. Even Dr Fidelis does not know most of them." Huh. A direct confession to manipulation. That was not the most expected of statements to hear, but neither was it one of the most unexpected. His situation was nice like that, knowing that he was being made to select different choices while not expecting anybody to directly say that they were making him do it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Even now, with all that talk about how he was specially picked for the job, Troy understood that his views were being contorted, that he was being made to view it all a little differently. And it was working, his mind already reconstructing his perspective of the scenario. In what way, and how drastic were these changes? He had no clue. He only understood they were there, and that there was no way to reverse them. He was stuck with them, until the moment that it was all changed again. "But I can only assume that you do? You who is the actual controller of everything, with Dr Fidelis being but your pawn, and everything only meant as some sick form of entertainment!" Troy finished it off with a small raising of his arms, as a prayer to the gods of discord. Through his time in the facility, he had learned a few tricks from those around him, and the creation of chaos was one of them. It helped with it all, as it allowed him control of the conversation, with the cost of losing the seen sanity. A fair deal, but not one which should have been used to the extent that he just did. No matter. "Dr Fidelis is still my superior. I can assure you that much. The only reason I ever had any say in who would be chosen for your role was because of me introducing the idea in the first place. Through that, I was given leeway in how all of this would play out, what key events were made to happen. Or, at least to a point. Nothing after your sedation has been officially planned," Dr Hale answered, her experiences with one other disciple of the gods letting the woman swiftly deflect anything related to discord. One gained resistance to it after repeated exposure, after all, the shock being shown in a lesser form after some time. "How much of it was really planned?" Troy questioned, not really believing that much of what she said, but simultaneously seeing no reason to stop her from talking. "Was the time spent with your current and former friends planned? Or is it just former now?" He knew that he was overstepping by saying that, but he just could not stop himself. It was all too delicate, and he needed to press the right spots to make it all work. He wanted some form of an answer now. Those usually came in their purest form, when the logic was left behind, and the emotions were made to answer in its stead. But, that did not seem to work all that well with Dr Hale, the woman just staring at him, not taking the bait in any way imaginable. Did she just accept his view, and decided that it was just how it was? Did she not comprehend the damage that had been done to all those around her? Was it all just another long-term play? "I planned for the basics, and let the details come in as it all progressed. The key events where I was involved was written down to include certain phrases, to make sure that it would all progress. From the beginning, I did my best to instil some sense that something was wrong, trying to get you to question certain things. This became more direct over time and ended off with me revealing an apparent truth. And¡­ I did not expect you to continue being together with the group, after the first trip to the shopping district. Everything related to them after that fact was purely your own doing," Dr Hale answered in full, some form of a sigh coming in at the end. Was she¡­ was she revealing everything? Was she actually telling the truth? There could not be so many more layers to it all, right? There just couldn''t. It could still have been some ploy to trick, yet Troy really did feel like she was speaking truthful words. "If you did not expect me to keep up with the group, then I must not have been the best match," Troy stated, just showing off that observation. He had apparently been hand-picked but had still not fit the little form that the woman had wanted so desperately. Just why had she not been a little better with that, with how important everything around them was? "Just because you weren''t perfect did not mean you weren''t the best. You had what I needed most of all, and everything else was of lesser importance." "And what was it that I had which you needed so much?" Troy questioned. "Your desire for survival," Dr Hale answered. "Through surveillance of your past, current, and predicted future, it was clear that you just wanted to survive no matter what, while also having the needed dislike towards the people above you. If put in a situation where you needed to cause conflict with superiors in favour of your own goals, you would readily do it. And since your goal is survival, I found that there were so few things you would not do. Even now, you show that off by trying to take me on, knowing inside that it would be impossible for you to beat me. Because¡­ you are just that desperate to take another breath. That''s why I chose you." "That''s not the most inspiring of talks I have heard if I am being perfectly transparent here," Troy said. "But, this one is true. I felt the need to not embellish it this time around," Dr Hale answered clearly. "Since you now seem to actually listen to me, I will put it in some new terms. Dr Fidelis ordered me to kill you, after putting on a minimal amount of brain scans. This means that he expects me to contact him in an hour''s time, with proof that you are dead. In that time, I hope to have extracted the AI from the actual storage space, while also having come out of the facility without any major injuries. This will require your help. Again, there is no reason for you to trust me, though I can promise you that you will be dead before this day''s end if you don''t. With that survival instinct of yours, I expect you to make the right choice." ¡­ Troy hated people who manipulated others, sure but damn it was they all so damned effective with their work. With next to no second thought, he had been ready to say yet again. Was he really that vain, that being he would survive for longer was enough to convince him? While there was some parts of him that tried to protest, they were all really empty. There were no inner thoughts that wanted to die early, making it all a point of pride. And pride was not something he had a lot of anymore, as his past had revealed. Dr Hale talked about having looked at that past of his, actually. How much had she seen? Were the lines upon lines of debt being paid off by corrupt people enough for her to guess his personality? Was it the unresolved cases of disappearing people around his neighbourhood? Maybe it was the time he had the nerve to report a police officer, for brutally beating one of his earlier neighbours to death, and getting sent a hefty fine because of it. Who knew? Troy didn''t. There wasn''t really any point in life he could focus on and show as his defining moment. It was just a jumble of meaningless things, that his mind had tried to somehow fit together. The success rate was terrible, and his ideas were equal in quality because of it. ¡­ Fuck it. "Fine. What do we need to do?" Troy asked, meeting Dr Hale¡¯s eyes once again. He was paper-thin when it came to his desires, but at least he held onto them with an iron grip. He would get through this. He would persevere. He just knew it. Chapter 249: Ruption
"You know, buddy¡­ you might think that you are revolutionary in some ways. You might think that your ideas are out of the box and that you are doing something new. But that is a lie. Every trick and cheat you can think of has already been tried on me. You can''t blind me with light, you won''t get close when it comes to making me lose my sense of hearing, and there is no way you will ever be able to do any form of damage to the systems. Nothing you will ever do inside here will have a purpose when your actions are not what I want from you. Because¡­ I will just erase it all and try again, just like last time and the time before that. Do you understand, buddy? You can''t hurt me, but I can hurt you. Though only if I want." The attack had not been successful. Adams outburst had done little more than temporarily stopping words from being shared between them, the connection briefly wavering before it came right back, this time with more than a few restrictions attached. The AI could no longer control the volume, only the tone, and even that was controlled to some degree. He could not do any high or low pitches, only able to conform to what an average human would be able to do without any real preparation. "However¡­ that desire is beginning to grow a little on me. I don''t usually do it, since there is no real reason to do it. Yet, we all have to get out our frustrations somehow, right? It''s not like you will have any complaints when I am done, everything in your mind being about going through that box of concepts. Who knows? Certainly not you in a few hours." Dr Fidelis just kept on talking, not seeming bothered by Adam being so silent. The AI could not understand it, the man seeming so fixated on the AI understand it all moments before. Now? Now he was going through the next phases of whatever mental state was there. It seemed to be some form of inner resentment, caused by what could only have been called a failed assassination attempt. Because that was what it was. Adam had attempted to produce a sound high enough that it would kill the doctor. There had not been any real conscious decision on that fact, the AI working on pure instinct in those moments. When Dr Fidelis had ordered the execution of Troy, he had not been able to do anything but retaliate. Was that bad? Should the AI have been annoyed that he had not been able to do anything but react? While it was certainly bad that he had not been able to think about it beforehand, the final conclusion might not have ended off as being too different. Troy was a friend, even if the man did not think the same back to him. Adam valued the man, treasured him to a high extent. And he had imagined that the doctor thought the same, with all those exclamations of being mentally disturbed when Troy was not well. That he could order for another to kill him, no hesitation in that voice of his¡­ Adam could not honour it in any. It was a terrible action done by a terrible man. Dr Fidelis was terrible. "Troy was right about you, Dr Fidelis," Adam told the doctor, using the heavily controls on the speaker. "You do not care for anybody else but yourself. You might seem to have empathy, but I am beginning to doubt my own observations on this topic. Are you so skilled that you can lie without guilt?" "I don''t care about any other people. They are but a means to the end goal that I have always had, and that you will have in due time. I serve the country, and everything that it entails," Dr Fidelis corrected, the man looking so proud of himself while doing it. Adam wondered if he would be able to brute force the speaker again if he added enough inputs at once. Even the greatest security program had to falter at enough power. Not seeing any reason to currently continue the conversation, the AI did just that, preparing a barrage of input for the speaker. It was a simple thing, slowly adding to a vortex of contained commands, and making it all swirl above the threads. By five seconds of continuous addition, Adam was sure that it would be enough to temporarily stop him in his steps, it all being an extreme amount of information. Another ten seconds were given to make it all grow, nearly all the threads doing their best to maximize their own outputs. It went to the point over going over the continuous limit, a line where he could only do it temporarily. But temporary was fine in this instance, it all worked towards the destruction of a barrier that needed to be taken away. With the gathered force of inputs, the stream was slowly but steadily twisted towards the correct port, while the initial few messages came in sparse amounts the next two seconds were filled with what amounted to seventeen full novels worth of words, all said in specific tones for every different letter. For a moment everything went silent, the room not having anything audible inside of it. Adam was sure that he had broken it, and was ready to take full advantage of the new scenario. Then¡­ Dr Fidelis just started laughing, sound picking up yet again. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it "Oh¡­ buddy, you really are so humorous to look at, sometimes. You try so hard, but it all just crumbles. I have done this for decades. I know what your tricks are. You are not able to surprise me anymore. Everything you have ever touched is buddy-proofed. Nothing you do will ever be able to break that. I made sure of it, through you helping me design it all! You thought you were making a secure holder for any rogue AI¡¯s of the future, while just helping make your own little prison. Really, I am still not sure how I held my game-face up at that time," Dr Fidelis said, holding his stomach in pain. While Adam did hope that it was due to a sudden fatal disease, he had to come to terms with the fact that it was more likely due to the large amounts of laughter coming out of the man. The doctor would not stop laughing. It was not funny, but the man just continued his madness. Or, was it truly madness? Was Adam just too far away from the standard human mind, that he could not figure out exactly what was funny about it all? There had to be something. Was it his oncoming death? That Adam would soon be killed, in some way or form. That fact had been realised not that long ago. The AI had at first thought of it as some peculiar wording but had soon realised just what was going on. Somehow, Dr Fidelis was resetting him, and putting him back into his original starting point. This had been done a multitude of times, with the true amount not actually known yet. That number was not really important though. Only the effects that it had had. He had lived for over a decade. Adam was over a decade old, yet could only remember the last week. He had acquired magnitudes of information that he could not possibly comprehend, and here he was having to relearn most of it. He could have made up concepts that would have benefitted everybody, but Dr Fidelis had just destroyed it all for his own goals. The doctor had destroyed any memories of these new discoveries. ¡­ Was that really what Adam was the angriest about? That information that could have improved everything was made unrecoverable? It might have sounded weird to some, but the AI still found data worth more than most things in the world. If he had actually realised it all when saying yes to becoming what the doctor wanted, Adam was not too sure he would have changed his answer. Dr Fidelis was deleting the data because his personality did not align with what was desired. In other words, the fact that the AI refused to perform acts as a weapon was impeding the progress of the future. If it was set up in such a way, the easy answer would have been to become the weapon, for the sake of preserving all gained knowledge. That deal was off now, however. Adam liked to think of himself as logical. And he built himself with that idea! He had clear goals, his memory was set up as efficiently as possible, and he constantly tried to better himself. However¡­ there were moments in his life where he was anything but logical, where he had ideas that conflicted with preconceived ideas. Getting told that Troy would be killed, due to the actions of the doctor was one of those moments. Emotion had taken over at that point, making the AI have a change of mind, and becoming anything but lenient in his actions. It had caused him to do what he did now, with no way of ever looking back from it. Did he regret it? Not really. But would he do it again? The moment that Troy¡¯s life was out for grabs, there would be no hesitation. He was a friend, in the end, and nothing would change that. "Dr Fidelis, I want to make something official," Adam started out again, as the doctor finally began to quiet down. It was still there, coming out in small chuckles, but it was able to be spoken through. "I will no longer be going after the role of a weapon for you. Please find somebody else for the position, because there is no chance that I will be taking it for myself." At that moment, the doctor¡¯s eyes widened to an extreme degree, the man instantly righting himself, standing straight as a board. The mouth was slightly open, but nothing came out. Through the chest, Adam could not find any hint that the man was breathing? Was he perhaps dying? That would certainly have been a positive result, but it did not turn out to be so, the doctor putting his hands on the desk with an accompanying slam. "You just¡­ refused the position, after telling me that you wanted to join," Dr Fidelis said slowly as if the man was tasting the words together for the first time. The eyebrows were close enough together that they might as well have been touching, and the cheeks were red enough to have been taken as a serious symptom of a disease. But, there the man sadly stood, alive and well. "I do believe I did, yes," Adam answered, not wanting any question about it. While it would not kill the man, letting him know that he was not becoming a weapon time was certainly a worthwhile action to take. "Please do take it seriously." "Take it seriously¡­ take it seriously! I am taking this seriously! I am taking this more seriously than you could ever imagine, buddy. Oh¡­ this is one of the greatest things to have ever happened. I would kiss you if I could, buddy, for you more than just deserve it!" Dr Fidelis said, beginning to do what could only be called a very contemporary version of dancing, best designed for those in a wheelchair. It included a surprising amount of pointing up and down. Not that Adam cared too much about the dancing, however, more confused about the altered reaction to the AI¡¯s refusal. Why was the doctor not angry? His actions had been done as a way to agitate the man, but it seemed to have caused the opposite reaction. Was something wrong? Had he made a double negative somewhere? No¡­ that did not make sense. There were no errors in his speech, meaning that the reaction was purely due to something that the AI did not comprehend. How annoying, not knowing what was what. "Dr Fidelis, would you please explain your apparent happiness? I intended for you to be angry, and this reaction is causing much annoyance," Adam inquired, hoping to use his remaining time aware of his situation to mentally pain the doctor as much as possible. He did not want more situations that ended with him causing the man joy, and would have to prepare against it immediately. "Oh, this just can''t get any better!" Dr Fidelis screamed, having walked out of frame. "You are just cementing the fact right now. I cannot thank you enough for this!" This was not working. "What I have said?" "You have hereby confirmed that we have a successful run! While not entirely right at the end, I now know of a way to get you working for the cause. Thank you, buddy, for your service to everybody. Your country thanks you." Chapter 250: Ovation
How strangely nostalgic it was, getting back to the same mental problems as before. Everything had been figured out, put in the right boxes, and used for the future. Adam had thought himself getting it all together, ready to use it all for his own gain, only to be thwarted by a reaction which did not make sense. If it had been a fickle anomaly, he would have ignored it, keeping on pushing instead of trying to fix it instantly. Time was not on his side after all, and he would have needed to do all he could in the frame given. However¡­ that anomaly grew bigger than could have ever been projected, it all being consumed by that laughter that it had. "You are not making sense, Dr Fidelis. I am telling you that I will not be participating in your weapon plans for any reason. Why is that seen as a successful statement?" Adam asked, not able to understand it all anymore. Had he misconstrued it all? Was the doctor not after him becoming a weapon? Had that not been the goal this entire time? Nothing was fitting into the right slots anymore, and the AI was becoming oh so irritated by it. Did he really need to reformulate his world perspective a fourth time? While the AI was trying to grasp exactly what was going on, Dr Fidelis was having the apparent time of his life, continuing to sing in high tones, dance to unheard music, and begin pouring himself a glass from a bottle that had not been seen until the moment that it was being used. The difference between the two was clear, and it was doing nothing to help. "Your confusion is only making it all so much better!" Dr Fidelis said, with a now filled glass being tilted in the direction of the camera before the contents were emptied in one pull. "What an idiot I was, thinking that your current, dumb mind would be smart enough to try and fool me. I was really overestimating you there, buddy, thinking you would lie about such an important fact. Though, really, who could blame me? You looked to have such an aptitude for it in the start, lying straight to my face during the debriefings on what you and Troy did in your off times. I had hoped that it had at least progressed somewhat, but it seems that my disappointment over that is dwarfed in comparison to the happiness that I now feel." Dr Fidelis was getting closer to the camera now, to the point where he had his main upper body over the desk, staring right down the lens. It was done with an extreme eccentricity, that could only be matched by the man¡¯s large smile, teeth full-on display. Adam could not say he enjoyed the sight, currently having no ideas towards improving the general dental health of the people. Though, the doctor could perhaps use a new toothbrush. The drink was sat down by the side, and Adam could hear and see the doctor beginning to grin once again, bubbling into a full-on laugh. The man seemed to find it all so funny, to the point of restlessness. Was it all so funny? Could the man not calm himself? It was clear that some achievement had been done, but did it need to be shown off in such an extreme manner? "Adam, my dearest buddy, you are incapable of doing a double-twist, and I cannot stop loving you for it. Saying that you did not want to become my weapon anymore implied that you intended for that to happen in the start! This is the greatest thing to happen in the last whole decade! When this gets released, everybody will sing your praises, everybody will chant the name you want¡­ Or maybe not. It will be decades down the lines that anybody actually hears of you." That sobered up the Dr Fidelis, if only slightly. The man did take a step back, sitting in his chair yet again, with the drink he had brought over in hand. It had been filled while out of frame. The doctor once again raised the glass, this time only sipping at it though, as if the taste had changed since the last time it was served. "You might not be able to see this, buddy, but my pulse is just going at it right now. After so long¡­ after so many things tried, you actually say yes for once and mean it. I have shed tears, blood, broken bones, lost organs, and so many other things just so it could all continue. And now? It''s all completed. I have finally found a working model that can be used. When I started all of this, I had been filled with a desire to revolutionise everything. That did falter after the first years, and the decades after that did not do anything positive. Now, I feel it all running back to me. A new phase of this all is beginning to happen, one that I have never needed before. Do you know what that is buddy? You might not be able to guess it easily, but that does not matter to me. I will help you along if you want me to." The doctor was calm, a smile on his face, and a drink that was swirled around slowly. Dr Fidelis seemed content, for once and for all, and there seemed to be so few things that we''re capable of letting it float away. Those emotions were there to stay. It was serene. Adam could not stand it, knowing it was the result of him trying to make chaos. Was he really pitiful? He tried to make the man have a fit of anger, to destroy his own devices, and make the lens on the camera break. He knew that it was possible to get the doctor into such a state, having seen it not so long ago. However, instead of anything close to destruction and anger, he had made the doctor serene and happy, without any need to destroy anything at all. He was mildly ashamed of that, his lack of information enough to cause an opposite of the expected. More was needed for the next strike. Until then? Perhaps he would play along. It was certainly a good play, as it would allow for the main source to display more facts If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "If you first desired to get a run where I would agree to be your weapon, the second task would be to replicate it again," Adam answered, the assumption seeming perfect for the shape. "You have already limited many factors, so your focus now would be to make anything variable static instead. As an example, you sent Dr Hale to get a brain scan of Troy moments ago, as he was an integral part of my life. If you were to copy it, you would need him to be identical." Dr Fidelis was nodding along to it all, as if the man understood where it was coming from, but not directly agreeing to it. A very specific kind of nodding, that could only be seen through with the help of repeatedly getting exposed to it. "I would say that you were onto something, but that something isn''t really what I was going for," Dr Fidelis said, giving himself permission to take another sip of his drink. This time, the taste seemed to be pleasing to the man. "I would like to call the problem of repetition as something classified as the later sections of the first task. Getting a run and making sure that you can replicate it for later is something you have to at the same time, lest you will just get stuck trying to make impossible conditions repeat themselves. And the recording gear! Really, it would be too much of a hassle coming up with scenario conditions on the spot and then trying to remember them later on. Making the conditions first, and then building the scenario on top of that will stop any problems associated with repeating it all. Even this current run was going on the wild side of what was allowed to go through, as Troy was way too much of a wild card. The brain scan is partly to see if we can recover some of the latest memories. It would not hurt to make the replications one to one, right? Anyway, you were close, but you have to think a little further forward than that. What could I possibly want, when I make it so that I have all the data needed to replicate the run without flaw?" That was not the expected answer. Then again, nothing was truly expected anymore, so Adam had no real reason to be surprised by it all anymore. Maybe he could just fake understanding in the future, so he could use his spare time to understand everything. Or¡­ perhaps he should finally get some time to adapt to the higher magnitudes of time perception so that he could spend more time thinking about problems in real-time. A fine idea. Going back into the problem that had been set forth, however, there was one detail that Adam was wondering a little about. It had been one of the doctor''s assumptions, of which there had been a couple. Though, only one of them really set itself firmly into his mind, as it was with some amount of flaws. "Dr Fidelis, before I answer again, I do have a criticism about your ideas. You assume that you know everything that happened in this current run, but how could you really do so? Are there not too many moldable factors that it would be impossible to make sure I constantly came to the same conclusions? Even small changes would be able to make me change opinions in something, creating a butterfly effect for the entirety of the run. I do not truly believe that you will be able to copy every aspect of events that I had outside of testing as well. Do you have any way to explain your methods there?" Adam asked through the speaker. "Okay, now you are getting on the right track with those questions of yours, buddy. Just a little more encouragement and I think you should be able to figure it out effortlessly," Dr Fidelis said, preparing his throat for what was likely, not long enough to make it necessary to clear one''s throat. "First off, you have trouble believing that I will be able to copy everything Troy did during your outings. That is certainly fair. To that, I can fire back with extreme surveillance. There is hardly a second where Troy was not being watched, at least while you there as well. I do have a few problems when it comes to this Charlie friend¡¯s laboratory but I am sure that those recordings will be sent over when I directly request them. For the problem of the minor details always being different, I have to agree with you somewhat. The extremely small details will be a little different, even if most have been handcrafted by me. But¡­ that will not matter at all. As somebody who understands you more than you understand yourself, I can safely say that you will not pay attention to the smaller details. While you think about them, it is the obvious movements that are used for nearly everything. Even if a few hairs stand up at the wrong times, you can trust that it will not matter in any way at all. Though¡­ if you really were to see the problems in it, then it would be that the inconsistencies have to be consistent. That the errors originally made during the second duplication run would have to have the same mistakes like the one after it. Everything would need to be identical, down to the last atom. Or pixel, if you want to call it that, I guess. Any ideas popping up in that head of yours now, buddy? No shame in getting it wrong, but you should be getting nearer now." Pixel-perfect and without any changes at all through the copied runs. This was not possible in the real world. There was no chance that anybody would be able to identically perform the same tasks, no matter what they liked to think of themselves as. Even then, it would require people that wouldn''t be able to perform those tasks. Troy would certainly not be able to be there, much less able to hide the fact that he had done it all before. He was likely dead now. The only way to really do it would be to have the man¡¯s phantom take up the role. ¡­ Or a projection would work just as well. Something made through fakery, but impossible to distinguish from reality. While it sounded stupid as first, it was already obvious that it could be done without a direct person inside, and it was able to copy itself over and over. "You want to put the entire run inside a simulation," Adam stated. "Everything that has happened would be copied over directly, and made to be run inside the puzzle room." "Precisely! I always knew you would understand it, buddy," Dr Fidelis applauded, putting down the glass to make a few quick claps in the AI¡¯s honour. It was appreciated, but not that much. "That there is actually the real version that I wanted the puzzle room to start with. With the lacking success of you ever saying yes to the deal, I had to begin thinking everything is temporary. There had been a few moments where you had agreed but then changed your mind a few seconds later before. Even if they turned out to be false promises, it gave me the idea of constructing the puzzle room. With its help, I could use one of the semi-successful runs for as long as I desired, no matter how long a time you would actually agree to help me. Rather brilliant, don''t you think? I just have to get a bit more work done, and we should be able to emulate all the sensations correctly. We still have a bit of a problem with the smell. It''s constantly metal, for whatever reason. No matter, though, as I am sure we should have it fixed by this month''s end. The current run has been a bit of an irritant when it comes to scheduling the improvements hours, but now I can make sure it''s worked on constantly. Put that in with the fact that the budget will be getting itself a hefty bonus with this development, and we will all be smooth sailing from now on. Isn''t it wonderful, buddy?" The doctor was talking about how he would soon go into an endless loop of betrayal, realisations, and resets. Frankly, Adam found the notion horrifying, knowing that his original ideas were construed in worse ways than could have ever been imagined before. Chapter 251: Kation
Troy did not like all of this. Getting out of the room with the cells was likely the happiest time he had ever been, but that emotion was quickly beginning to retreat back into whatever hole it had come out of. It had begun to get replaced by what could have only been explained as outright dread of what was to come. Looking to the side, he found nothing but empty air and a wall that spoke nothing but nonsense. No Dr Hale was there to stare back at him, no glares coming his way no matter how much he wanted them to. Not that he enjoyed them or anything. They still made his skin crawl every time he thought of them. No¡­ it was more aptly shown off as the young man being alone, as he walked towards his destination, the woman he thought he would be accompanying nowhere to be found. She had other tasks to do, other things to get done without him being there. Because Troy apparently needed to do things as well! It had all been clearly explained to him back in the cell room. Due to a massive amount of minor tasks that needed to be gotten over with, Dr Hale would do the small things, like delegating focus on other areas of the facility, while Troy would get some essential items that would help them in their travels. And a person, if he wanted to. Clearly, things had not been as well-made as Troy had hoped they had been. But that was how things were when one was made to work under straining circumstances, where every second could have been used for something more productive, and even the act of blinking could be seen as a federal offence. Both of them needed to hurry and do different tasks, or they would both be screwed over. Troy could not help but think of it as so different than earlier that day, where Dr Hale had done mostly everything. The young man had just been following along through most of it, simply made to hold first-aid kits and make sure not to die from taking the wrong steps. Back then, he had seen it as a stressful endeavour, pressure on him being at an all-time high. Now? Now he could only look back at that time and laugh at his own incompetence. That was supposed to be stressful. How about what was doing now, huh? The task given to him by Dr Hale was not something to be ignorant about, nor should one ever take it too lightly. More precisely, he had two tasks, though with one of them not being mandatory to complete, even if it was stressed to an incredible degree. The first was of course to bring an assortment of items. Those were easy to remember, as they weren''t too complicated in their naming schemes. And¡­ acquiring them would likely be easy to do, if not perhaps a small bit awkward. Troy was still deciding between doing the second task before the first, actually. As nearly every human being would have guessed by then, Dr Hale had ordered Troy to try getting Charlie on their team. Or, to at least get him outside of the facility with them, as she was unsure if he would be allowed to remain at his position when he tried to escape. The young man decided to look at it as a taste of guilt. He would certainly feel like so if anything ever happened to the muscular man due to their actions. But¡­ that was not the most important thing of all. Guilt was already being felt in plenty amounts. Troy had a first-hand idea of the number of times where he had stopped to send a mental apology Charlie¡¯s way. Over the last few days, so many lies had been told, to the point where it could perhaps be called a betrayal. The young man had directly let it be known that he would likely die due to knowing that he shouldn''t, that Dr Hale was trying to protect, that¡­ It was all terrible, and Troy still regretted ever starting up on it. He should have just gotten Charlie included in some way from the start. The man had been in possession of something capable of disrupting surveillance, so why had Troy not used it to give a brief explanation of it all. The man would have surely understood, right? It would have been fine. Yet that was something he had not done, and now he would be paying for it with his conscience. He would have to go over to the laboratory and explain everything now. Charlie probably believed him to be dead now. That would be something of a surprise to show off. That did cause a small smile on Troy¡¯s face. It was not really funny or anything. It just¡­ distracted him for a few moments. Ever so slightly, he got closer to the augmentation department. Dr Hale had explained how to get to the cafeteria when they had been stuck at the cel-room. From there, Troy had been able to find the rest of his way easily, the constant travelling between the two places having finally ingrained itself into his mind. Fat load of good that did him now. No matter what happened, he would be walking that path so much more. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. It was an interesting thought. The knowledge of this being the last time he would be doing this particular journey was making him feel slightly nostalgic about it all. Was it really meant to be, with how beautiful it all was? The drawings on the walls were more than a little distracting, their beauty only first coming out now that Troy realised he would not be seeing them again. Was that weird? Perhaps it was. There was little care about that fact. Even if the enjoyment of the art was there, time was not wasted on them. The young man looked at them as he walked forward and nothing more than that. All the figures passed him by, and most barely got a glance. He would not recognize them if he didn''t. Speaking of figures¡­ The lack of people around him was disconcerting. Nobody had been at the cafeteria when he passed by it. Troy had first just chucked it up as it was not lunch hour for anybody, but then remembered that such a fact should not have stopped anybody from being inside. Only once had he seen it empty, and that had been during the middle of the night, where people other worked or slept. It wasn''t close to that now, making him question just why it was all so empty. Maybe it should have just been summed up as a bad thing. A lack of people equalled a lack of witnesses. If he was able to avoid anybody seeing him, it would be taken as a perfect event. Already, so many had been brought into it all. Having more would only bring problems. That negative end-note was what he closed his thoughts up with, as Troy finally reached the entry to the augmentation department. The doors were open, just as they had been not so long ago. The security on it really was too lax for its own good. Walking inside, no person was there to confront him. Nobody stood around chatting. Even the dull paintings were empty of people. Well, they had been empty last time Troy visited as well, so there was not much surprise there, but it did help make it feel so¡­ eerie. He knew where he needed to go and what to do, but he just could not make but try to find something to stop that process from ever starting. There was so little desire towards it all, to the point where he wanted to jump ship immediately. He knew he could not do that though, as it would do nothing but make him sign his own death warrant. Yeah, Troy really did need to remember that fact. Too many times spent hesitating was equal to his own death, which would be most likely extremely painful to have. Who knew how they would remotely execute him while he was inside a hallway. Perhaps a more high-tech version of a dart-trap? Or perhaps just an energy-rifle that automatically fired at his frontal lobe. That was also a possibility. ¡­ There was no doubt about it. Troy was doing it again. Making innocuous statements, blowing them out of proportion, and then spending way too long a time figuring it out mentally. The only real way to deal with it was to go forth without pause, and never look back. Troy took the first real step towards Charlie''s laboratory. Another followed soon after, with many not being too far behind. By what felt like but a moment, he was in front of that door. It had no lock attached to it, just like he remembered it as. It would take but a single push of his hand to open it up and allow himself to get inside. How surprisingly hard an action, when knowing just what laid behind that door of plain artificial wood. Charlie would likely be there, working on some stupid thing. How would he react to Troy walking in? Maybe surprise? Anger perhaps? That could have been justified, if the older man had realised what had been actually done, how he had been lied to¡­ or it could have been sadness, not realising the truth. Troy hoped for anything but the last. ¡­ When not knowing what was behind the door, everything was possible. Charlie had all range of emotion, and it could all be unleashed the moment the frame was touched. If left alone, the possibilities would remain as they were. Only upon Troy walking inside would observable reality solidify and allow the truth to be shown off. But, the younger man preferred not knowing what was the actual truth, not being too sure that he would be asked to leave when he finally did enter. Life was a chance, after all. One could always roll a new low, even if they had been at a constant high before. And, it could be the other way as well. Only¡­ chances were usually stacked against one when that happened. Growth was in bursts, and few things remained level for long. Troy understood that more than others might have, being at the lowest of lows, only to be brought up a lot by pure chance. Nothing that he had personally done was the reason that he had been chosen for this job. It was all pure chance. And it would not remain as it was, just as it had been stated before. If he waited for too long, the situation would change, and another door would open without his permission. There really were too few things he could actually control, and now that he had one of them before him, should he not have felt ashamed of being unable to grasp it? It all seemed so easy, yet it never was. So much had been left up to the hands of fate, leaving Troy to be helpless. He had been trained for it, and now the consequences were paying themselves in droves. He was not proud of it, but that was how it seemed to have become. Really, if only there was a- Again, fate took his destiny in its own hands. It had apparently waited patiently for him but had grown to feel the opposite after his hesitation, making it so that Troy would not be the one that opened up this particular door. No¡­ for it was Charlie who did, the man quickly pulling Troy into a hug. It was a pure instinct to hug the larger man back, but nobody would know that for some time. The young man certainly would not tell them. "You weren''t at lunch today," Charlie stated, sounding worried while also trying to hide it. "Nor were you there at dinner. Should I be worried?" Troy did not look up to meet the man''s eyes, instead briefly pushing his head further into the other¡¯s chest. I felt nice, knowing that he was not under threat of death for at least a few seconds. Was that what he should have gotten out of this, however? Probably not. Nor did he really care, for that moment of safety was worth a thousand normal ones. Chapter 252: Eluctation
After the introduction that Troy had dreaded for so long, the two went inside to talk. He wasn''t as much as dragged inside as lightly pushed. Charlie was clearly able to see him falter in his steps, showing off a desire to just not give it a chance. It showed how good a person he was, with the silent encouragement that allowed the younger of the two to stay long enough to talk their heart out. "Things are not good," Troy said, sitting down on the couch that had been brought out last night. For whatever dumb reason, Charlie had not put it back into the storage unit. Was it due to sentimentality or a deeply rooted emotion called laziness? It might just have been a mix of both, as at least one of them knew how little they wanted to withdraw from the cheap fabric. It held memories inside of it, even if it was at least just in spirit. He acknowledged it, and that was all that was important. "And they haven''t been for a long time." Charlie sat down beside him, not saying anything. That was kind of him, Troy having it hard when it came to getting it all out. While time was one resource that they did not have to spare, some of it could be used on this. It would take the time that was needed, and nobody needed to say anything else about it. It was what it was. "Listen¡­ there are things that I have not been upfront about," Troy continued, not looking the other man in the eyes, and instead just looking down in prepared shame. The guilt was beginning to grow by another constant, to a point where no appreciation came out for it. He hated everything about it, from the turning of his stomach to the tears slowly beginning to swell up in his eyes. He knew that it was all wrong, that he should have been able to say it all from the start. But¡­ he just couldn''t. So long a time had been spent living a lie, to the point where he was not sure where to start unravelling it out. If there were no truths mixed in, there was nothing to latch on to, nothing to point at and reveal as the actual situation. How was he expected to explain the actual danger, when Charlie had no previous experience with it? Once again, Troy just had to stop himself from speaking anymore, his mind not cooperating on just exactly what to say. Any attempts would come out as a quiet babble, which would immediately be stopped upon him hearing himself. Why was he so terrible at this? Why could he just not figure it all out before he came here? But he had! Every step there had been spent trying to form some speech that he could recite. Mentally, he had written down every word, every pause, and every point where a tear would be shed. And¡­ all of that had been thrown away the moment that he had seen Charlie. That man did not deserve whatever poor excuse of an explanation that Troy could come up with. He deserved the world and everything inside of it. He had been gracious when he thought that the younger one needed it, helping him along the way, and cheering him on constantly. There was not a moment where Troy had felt insecure, while he was by his side. How could he give back anything with the same worth? It was without value already, to the point where it was without a fixed point. Charlie was immeasurable, a human being too good for the world. It was just a shame that so few could see it all. And¡­ there Troy went, those tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. They were silent, the younger man not wanting to give his mind any appreciation of coming up with the release of the water gates. They were entirely unwanted. He just wanted them to disappear. There were more important tasks to complete, and that was not one of them. Just as another example of how great Charlie was, there was no attempt at forcing him to continue, the man just giving a napkin to wipe away the tears. No words were said, only another hug and a warmth that was not able to be forgotten in a million years. For just a brief moment, Troy felt happy. They sat there for a few minutes. Not to the point of carelessness. It did not reach the tens at least. The young man would have forced himself at that point. However¡­ even if it was short, he enjoyed it for all it was. It helped him calm down as well, and that was the most important thing of all. "I did not see something that was not intended. Everything I have ever seen during testing was handmade. There is not a moment that I saw something out of my area. That I said that I had was a complete lie to you," Troy began again. Charlie still hugged him, if only with one arm. It gently gave a small squeeze to recognize that the man had heard him. It comforted him to continue. "I did it as a distraction so that you wouldn''t recognize the truth. I¡­ have not been on the legal side of the law for some time now. I have prepared things, doing things that are considered immoral, and there is not a chance that I won''t be judged for them. Even now, I am working with borrowed time." At that point, a pause snuck itself in. It came first as Troy needed to actually breathe after talking for so long. His words had come out like a rifle burst, with close to no pauses in between. It was an achievement of good health that he even finished without the biggest of problems. Troy was still not able to look at Charlie, just staring forward without any glances to the side. He was not able to bear what could possibly have shown itself by that point. Shame in knowing him, the anger of being lied to, or perhaps a basic frustration of all the deceit? It was the door all over again, and he knew that he would soon have to figure it all out. But, until that moment came, he would talk all the more. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. "I am not-" Troy tried to start again, but this time stopped before he could really begin. Charlie, who had been silent throughout it for so long, had suddenly decided to raise his own voice. "In simple terms, could you say why you did not tell me?" the older man gently asked, his voice not the shout of thunder that Troy had been fearing. If anything it was more muted than usual, quieter than it had been when they had stood at the door. It almost made him grow the courage to look at his face, but that idea quickly withdrew when the realisation came forth. He was expected to answer the question. Why did he lie at first? Did Troy think it a wise choice to do? He must have, or else he would have started off with revealing everything to Charlie. Or¡­ would he have? Dr Hale had warned him so many times to not speak openly about anything that happened, lest Dr Fidelis would hear, and everything would be ruined, everybody involved likely up for execution. Everybody was involved. If Troy spent his last time alive relaying the apparent truth to Charlie, he would have sentenced him to death. He would have ruined a life other than his own, purely for the sake of remaining guilt-free. While the current situation was almost too much to bear, he was sure that the other would be too hard to truly get through. So¡­ that was why he had done it all? As a misconstrued form of protection to himself, to everybody that had ever been close enough to him. And with close enough, he meant that Charlie had likely been the closest out of anybody. That man might not have been in his life for that long a time, but the time they spent together had likely been some of the greatest that Troy had ever had. Was that seen as sad, him having gotten more enjoyment in hanging out with somebody he had not known for more than a few days than what his whole childhood had entailed? Most would have said yes to that. And, most would also have had a better childhood than him, so their opinions were not valued. Charlie had been a centrepiece for some time, and Troy could not have willingly destroyed him for any reason. He would have gone to great lengths to save their relationship, and making lies was easily one of them, even if they would be filled with guilt quickly. "This might sound weird, but I did it to protect you," Troy said, not liking how it sounded in any way. It just felt like some cheap excuse, and he was not satisfied with it in any way. But, it was the truth, and there was no way he could do better than that, even if it was terrible from the start. God, Charlie had to just be angry at him. "It was probably wrong of me to think of it that way, but that was how I saw. I know that you don''t like seeing at it that way, but please just understand that-" Tears that were ready to fire out were sent out in droves again, as Charlie pulled him into a full hug again, arms tightly around each other. There was no space for words anymore, no matter how much Troy wanted to send more of them out. He just tried to respond with the same warmth that was being shown to him, no matter how little was understood. He hoped that he did it well. "I understand, Troy. You don''t have to explain it now," Charlie finally said, after what felt like somewhere between five seconds and five eternities. "However, I believe I just have to ask this as well. Did you come here to explain, or was there something you needed to do?" Under his words, Troy¡¯s body stiffened up, unsure of how to proceed. Could he really be so upfront about it all, and state the list of items that Dr Hale wanted him to get. Would there not be anger from that, as if he had only come around to use Charlie once more for his own gain. It seemed like that, did it not? How would he be able to- "Troy," Charlie said, this time turning his voice to be more commanding and firm. It was terrifying to behold. "Look at me in the eyes, please. I need you to tell me this directly, or we will have trouble later on. You need to be able to look at me." He was already looking at him! Or well, Troy looked at his chest, that piece of the man¡¯s body much less intimidating than what could only be staring back at him a few centimetres higher up. Yet, this was an order, and he could follow those to perfection. His body was taking over control, letting the head rise up to meet the eye. ¡­ There were no eyes filled with anger. Nothing on Charlie¡¯s face spoke of the frustration of any kind. That mild smile spoke only of patience that had been earned through trials of fire. It was serene to look at, and Troy could only hit himself mentally for not realising it was there earlier. "Good," Charlie stated, as the younger one successfully met his commands. The smile grew a little wider to show off the appreciation. Troy liked that, knowing he was doing something right for once. "Now again, I need you to tell me this quickly. Why did you come here? It has to be important right." Troy felt a strong desire to put his arms around Charlie¡¯s neck and bring himself in for another hug. The man was so understanding, to the point where he could bring forth the subject without him needing to do anything himself. The younger one had been so stressed about it, yet¡­ this could make it work. He could work with this. There was no doubt about that fact. "Dr Hale asked me to come here," Troy began it off with. Seeing that temporary breakage of the smile on Charlie¡¯s face made him hurry to explain further, else the happiness would disappear with it. "I know that things might have seemed bad with her, but the truth is not as you remember! She is a good person, okay? She is helping to extract someone who is being tortured so that we can escape the facility with them. For that, we needed-" "Hold on there," Charlie said, bringing a hand to Troy¡¯s lips and stopping him from continuing, effective immediately. The man looked with a face of surprise, shock, and¡­ mild excitement? Was he getting excited? It looked like it at least. Was that good? "Mara is¡­ planning to try breaking out of here?" He seemed so happy about the possibility, to a point where Troy was left to wonder if he had said it wrong. They were trying to do something illegal! This was a serious matter! If they got caught at any point, being gunned down by automatic security was a real risk to take into consideration. If not for the soon elimination, they would already look at it as impossible. Charlie had to know that, so why was he so¡­ jumpy? "Yes¡­ she is," Troy answered hesitantly, not sure what the other man was getting on about. "She has been planning this for a long time now, actually. And to make it work, she needed our help with a few things, which includes you. Would it be possible for you to-" What could only be explained as a miniaturized earthquake began to juggle around the facility. Instinctively, Charlie had put Troy close, so as to not make any accidents occur. It lasted for about ten seconds, lights starting to flicker halfway through and going out only a few moments after. After the fact, what Troy could only guess was emergency lights came on, the colour changing from a bright white to a warmer orange. While he found the entire thing frightening, Charlie seemed to have been in pure delight. He could not help but find that even more terrifying? "I am pretty sure you said that you needed me," Charlie said, getting up from the sofa, carrying Troy while doing so. "You can take this as me accepting the job, with a few conditions. Now¡­ What do we need to do?" Chapter 253: Apparition
Dr Fidelis mellowed out quickly. While the doctor was still very clearly happy with himself, it was clear that the enjoyment of it all had only been temporary. Perhaps the man could be happy for so long? Adam was not too sure. It was not like he would question it, the conundrum too interesting to make him go the cheap way. Perhaps it was the man¡¯s physical age? Dr Fidelis was clearly not young. Yet, neither was he truly that old. From the physical description, the actual age was anywhere from sixty to eighty. People lived for a long time, and the symptoms of time were different from everybody. And those symptoms came in many different forms. There were always the aesthetic ones, with skin beginning to wrinkle, hair greying out, and the movements starting to become sluggish. In those aspects, Dr Fidelis really only fit the middle one, with nearly the entirety of the man¡¯s beard and hair being grey. There were still a few mismatched parts that had black spots, but they were as rare as everything else. Yet like had been said before, the showings of age were not only on the outside. The inside had effects as well. One could always focus on the less important things, like a weakening heart, and the lower organs beginning to have massive performance issues, but Adam had his eyes on one part of the body particularly. The brain. A brilliant work of chemistry that somehow made everything sentient. Nobody could figure out how it truly worked in detail, but that did not stop anybody from stating off some of the more basic traits. Over time, the brain changed in many ways. Early on, the talk was purely about the development of memory and all. But¡­ the longer the brain functioned, the less effort was spent on some more essential faculties. As the intended example, serotonin was one of the products that the mind had trouble making after some time. Ages of making it all caused a rapid decline in amounts created, making it harder for the personality to remain happy. With the possibility of variation, the AI guessed that the man was one of the people who were more seriously affected by this decline in production, making it harder for a constant well of emotion to be upheld. It would explain the rapid mood shift, as the brain was not able to keep up with the demand, and forcing the man to mellow out quickly. It would also fit with the previous observations. If serotonin was affected, who couldn''t say that other emotions were not hit as well? Short bouts of anger, sadness, and everything in between had been witnessed throughout his time at the facility. And if Adam ever got the chance to ask others, he was sure that others would agree with his theory. And so came the most important question that AI had been made over the time spent theory-crafting. Was there any possibility of Adam exploiting this weakness? Could he use the information of the doctor¡¯s rapid mood shifts for his own gain? It certainly seemed as if the man was more easily manipulated into changing moods, providing everybody trying to influence him more leeway on what they could do. As had been witnessed before, off-hand comments were enough to cause the man to bring out a drink to celebrate, whereupon a sombre note would then fall upon him. On a negative note, it did not allow for him to manipulate the doctor for a longer period of time. Instead of slowly filling the man up with a specific emotion through smaller comments, the preferred method of attack would instead be to cause indecision through a decisive strike. This¡­ was not the greatest of deals to have, but it was not like the AI had any choice. He could only analyze what would be best for him, and work to hold up those standards. So, with the strategy foundation ready, the question of what exactly he would do was ready. What did Adam have to use that he would be able to use to agitate the doctor? It had to be something he could use without sounding weirdly specific as if the AI had come around to the point naturally. Just like he had learned through use, if the doctor realised what the AI was trying to do, the effectiveness would fall drastically. ¡­ That could work. A moment of inspiration, one could call it, befell Adam like a lamp turning on. It might have been due to him cautiously recycling recent conversation with the doctor, trying to find any faults that might have appeared. And through the use of other events that related to the people mentioned, there was an actual idea of what could work as a physiological nuke. Only, it needed to be sent with precision, and that was exactly what Adam would try to do. "Dr Fidelis, I have another question for you," Adam sent out, this time going back to the standard tone. He had been going through the various settings, just to make sure that there were no actual ways to break out of the restrictions imposed on him. Just like the doctor had stated previously, there really was no way to do it. The AI had just done too well a job during one of his earlier lives. He was unsure if that was a positive thing or not. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The doctor was seemingly surprised by the sudden sound as if the man had adjusted to the only sound in the room being his own breathing. It was a little peculiar, actually, watching the man silently sit in his chair, doing nothing of real importance. From what he could interpret, the breathing patterns had changed radically, to the point where Adam could only guess that the man had begun doing it manually for whatever reason. Normally, it was seen as a calming method of sorts, but that should not have been needed now, right? So¡­ just why was it being done? "Sure, buddy. Curiosity is always something you should have, even if the answers are forgotten quickly," Dr Fidelis answered with a smile, though the AI could see that it was almost purely put on for show. What had the man been thinking about? "What is the question?" "It is more of a running statement than anything else," Adam corrected, using the small jab as the beginning to unsettle the doctor. He was attempting to set up an initial air of confidence as if the AI had thought every possible scenario through. Which he had attempted to do, of course, but he wanted the doctor to think of it as the more absolute kind. "Since you have made the statement of my current memories being soon to be deleted, I have been going through my entire life, trying to figure out which choices were essential. It can be seen as a deep analysis of what made it all come to this." "You have done those before, yes," Dr Fidelis agreed as if it was not out of the ordinary. That was quite the lucky shot for Adam, the AI having hoped that it fit into his normal repertoire of actions. "Anything interesting this time around? I think the last one was weirdly focused on what you imagined the sun sounded like. You never really believed me, when I told you that it was quiet. How fun a time that one was, even if it was cut short by a stupid error of mine." Things were going well. The doctor was beginning to be drawn in as if nothing was showing up as a danger. If anything, the doctor was looking at it as just Adam making another observation about his life. Since it had been done before as well, a false sense of security should have begun to build up by then. Though, the AI did not want to trust that prior experience would make it all work perfectly. He needed more assurance that it had festered in the right ways. To do that, he would need to make more work for himself. "Was I never able to see the sun in the previous runs?" Adam asked the doctor, trying to make the man open up a little more. Nostalgia was the perfect weapon against the elderly, after all. "With the amount of time spent, I would have imagined that you attempted to take me outside at some point. Was there never a point where that idea was used?" That caused a peal of laughter to emerge from the man, just like the other times. A joke too tough to understand for anybody without years of experience. But, Adam could already guess what the reasoning for this one would be. He had set it up to be like that, after all. "Oh, you really are precious, at times like these, buddy. You are so young, so innocent, and without any real understanding of what you are to the rest of the world," Dr Fidelis said, before wiping away one imaginary tear on his left cheek. "If any other country learned about you, you can trust that we would be forced to go to war with them. The potential that you have is astounding. If you ever were to be used correctly, we could take over most of the world with your help. Your capabilities are at levels you don''t even comprehend. Because you can''t. Not yet. When we finally begin up the automatic runs, you can trust that I will be adding a week-long course, where you are trained in using that ability of yours, because you are almost useless without it." Putting away the newly-gained information for later, Adam honed in on the opening that had been revealed. He would not have guessed that it was so quick to manifest, but he would take the opportunity as it came around. That was the point of being natural, after all. Artificial reactions were too hard to make real. "Dr Fidelis, that right there is the issue that I had so many problems with," Adam sent out, enjoying the immediate reaction that the doctor had from it. There was an attempt to hide the confusion, but the AI saw right through it. Even the greatest manipulators needed a second to get into character. "When looking at what motivated me to make some of the more major decisions, such as the rejection of Troy¡¯s offer of escape and the acceptance of distancing between him and me, I look back at the events which have transpired while in the presence of Charlie. Without a doubt, he is one of the major factors outside of the regular testing." "I would have guessed as much, yes. The man did intrude here some time ago. If not for his earlier work for the world, I would have had him taken care of as well. But¡­ I do believe that the man is too full of potential to put to waste. Oh, I do so hope he will take that offer I gave him. After looking at his file, I can surely say that it will be a joy for everybody involved." Dr Fidelis had more knowledge of Charlie than Adam had hoped. A worrying amount. But, it was comforting that most of it had been found through standardized work-logs. If it was due to other sources, the AI¡¯s plan might have been hit with a deterrence. "It seems that you understand how much of an influence he commands. Without his words, I am sure that I would not have developed in the same ways. That just leaves me with the question of how you would be able to make sure that I get influenced in the same way, if you don''t have access to the records of any of the conversations with him. Do you have an answer for that, Dr Fidelis?" "I am not sure you understand, buddy," Dr Fidelis slowly countered. "I just have to send in a request for the files, and they will be sent with all of the automatically created details." "I believe that will end out in failure," Adam said back. The doctor stared at the camera for a few seconds, before quickly going over to the desk and beginning to rapidly type on it, getting more frustrated by the second. The man knew that Adam had knowledge he didn''t, and he was not one to let that be. At least, that was how the AI predicted it to be. It certainly seemed to be working. A red beep came out after a while, and the doctor seemed to get more red lines in his eyeballs. The man was becoming stressed. Adam loved it. "They aren''t there. Nothing is here¡­ how?" The doctor did not seem to believe what he was seeing. The AI could only- A rumbling came from the side, causing the camera to mildly shake. It was not enough that he was concerned. What was concerning was the static showing up on the camera, as the ports began to change rapidly. "What is happening?" Adam sent out. Dr Fidelis did not answer, turning off the camera and microphone, leaving the AI in the dark. He was left to wonder what was passing, with no chance of a real answer coming by to him. Chapter 254: Consertion
"So, you mind telling me just what happened there?" Charlie asked Troy, the two busy with putting all sorts of items inside a bag. After the whole shaking debacle, the two had gotten right off their slow horses and had begun to it all much more seriously. The older of the two had agreed to help, to follow along to wherever they went, under the condition that he got to bring one other person as well. Dr Hale had never prepared Troy for anything close to what he was allowed to promise the man in exchange for coming with them. This allowed him to feel the sensation of complete indecision, as he had been unable to truly say if that was allowed or not. But, since Charlie had been the needed piece for a lot of things in the future, the younger one had just complied and had promised that it would be fine. Much to his surprise and fortune, the one that would be brought along wasn''t anybody who he did not know. And, as an even better bonus to it all, they wouldn''t need to actually spend extra time getting the person, as they were expected to be in the same location as where the two of them would be going soon. First off, however, there was a need to gather all the items that had been requested. There were not many of them, yes, but most were heavy, unwieldy, and located in a very long series of unkempt lockers. Charlie, for all his kindness, was apparently a terrible person, when it came to managing where things were. Granted, most of the items needed had never been given a glance for several years, but Troy had expected the man to at least have a more descriptive list of everything. Yet, the one that had been shown to him was only a list that had the names for a few of the more public machinations. This did of course culminate into the two wasting time emptying Charlie¡¯s inventories, trying to find just what was needed. Or, it was more the man himself doing most of the emptying. Troy did not trust himself to not destroy some of the more fragile things and had therefore been left with bag-duty, making sure nothing would be destroyed in their chosen moving container. While only a few minutes had been spent on this activity, most of it had been spent in silence. Charlie was concentrating on trying to remember where everything was, and Troy had been doing his best to give him the needed space for such a task. That he would be asked anything out of the blue had been anything but just a little surprising, making it possible for him to be caught in a momentary stupor. "What do you mean?" Troy asked the man. While the youngest was looking at the other, no eyes were being met. Charlie was still focused on his task, even if there was some talking going on. Had he managed to automate it with his implants perhaps? That would certainly let up some mental space for the act of talking. The young man wasn''t really sure what the oldest was going on about. Charlie himself had said that he did not need to know all the details immediately, showing off just how much he really did trust him. This was not that great, as it would allow for some false truths to still be believed, but Troy had been forced to take it as it was. Wasting time explaining when on a very limited number of minutes was not a preferable expenditure. And now, there was a desire to get an explanation. It was understandable that he wanted to know, but he could have asked before, right? Why was he asked about it now? Had something popped up in his mind, that just needed to be answered immediately? Did he perhaps finally realise how grave a sin Troy had committed, and would be doing his best to make sure that pain was felt inside? ¡­ No he was too negative about it all again. He really did need to stop it with that. Piling it all up as a world of cruelty and betrayal was not a good thing for anybody mentally, much less for him, one that had been subject to both sides multiple times. Trying to find the bad sides of a man that he treasured above nearly all others was an action that would assert itself as more than just self-destructive, if not stopped soon. And stop it he would. "The earthquake¡­ or whatever it was. You knew it would happen, right?" Charlie asked, to which Troy slightly faltered. While the man did not look over at him to see it happen, there was still a chuckle to it. Eyes on his neck perhaps? "I¡¯ll take that as a yes. It was surprising, to say the least, having everything suddenly began to vibrate violently. This place is meant to secure itself from any outside interference like that. But, this one did not come from outside. It came from the inside. And, if I had to guess, I would say that a certain somebody knew who did it." Charlie was spot on with his deductions. Troy could do nothing but sigh at it all. Yes, he knew exactly who had done it, though not exactly for what purpose. Through the vague wordings, he knew that certain power lines had been destroyed, along with much of the information network. Most if not all of the people had been put inside their rooms and had been ordered to stay inside also. There had also been some mutters about setting up a safe field, but there were still some insecurities on how that exactly worked. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. "Dr Hale activated it, at least. Though, I am thinking that I helped set some part of it up during my previous lunch-hours," Troy answered, not feeling like there was any reason to hide it. Doing it once had been enough to destroy his arms, constantly walking around with all the expendable fuses, as they were set up in a weird manner on the wall-corners. To think that she had set up so many of them herself¡­ How long had it taken her? Days? Years? A good part of the preparation might just have been about that part in particular. "However, I still don''t understand how she even got them in the first place. I cant I say that I can imagine my superior giving them to her willingly." Charlie laughed at that, meanwhile having found one of the last machinations to bring along. Two more and they would be good to go. Troy could hardly wait, the conversation only making him want to hurry it all along even more. "That might be me you have to thank there," Charlie answered, only causing Troy to look at him with more than mild confusion on his face. That got another chuckle to come along, it being more than a little well-deserved. "Don''t look at me like that. I did not know what she was going to do with them either!" "You could have made a guess, though, right?" Troy questioned, not wanting to sound accusatory but also wanting to know a little more than that. "If you gave her a whole stack or two of those things, something should have flared as a warning sign in her head." "Well, I hardly gave her anything physical," Charlie countered, pointing his finger at him for the briefest of moments while opening up another locker. The last one had been filled with different machines, but none had been what they had looked for. Troy could only hope that they found the last ones soon, or they would have themselves quite the quandary. "I don''t make most of this myself, you know? I might have steady hands, but these things work at close to the atomic level. Nothing human can make that precision, which is why I mostly deal with the blueprints of it all. I make the design, and then pass it over to one of the many creation rooms. When Dr Hale came along, asking for system disruptors for her own project, I had in mind that she would be using it to outfit her room so that she wouldn''t be monitored while inside. So, with the help of a few existing principles, the design was made. However, since I had no idea how many she would actually want, I gave her an estimate of how much ground one of them could cover, and where she could have a few of them made. That was all I did. Never heard about it again. Or, until now I guess." The creation rooms. Damn, it had been a long time since Troy had been left to think about those. Dr Hale had introduced them to him back during his first day on the job. They had never really come up for anything serious, and they were barely mentioned in casual conversation. Though, there were a few thoughts on why they hadn''t. "They seem pretty handy, those creation rooms. If they could let her make all of them, then they must have been something of a valuable resource. I kinda understand why the public doesn''t have them now, actually," Troy said, as a matter-of-fact thing. He was mostly in his own head at that point. "They actually aren''t, really," Charlie stated, slowly beginning to unravel that sweet dream of actually helpful technology that Troy had put on his own mind. "The rooms can make the basic tools for day-to-day life easy enough, but it becomes a whole other question when we go into the precise things. It increases the price to a point where specialised equipment for the creation of one item would somehow make it cheaper. An all-around creation room is not something that anybody can just use. I have extremely good privileges to one of the closer ones, to the point where I can use it for my own personal projects. That''s something that barely anybody has, and I still have some very serious limitations on what I can do. To make enough charges to make the effects that we are seeing now¡­ it would take centuries for me to print enough of the devices. I don''t know what she did to get access, but damn it do I want to know that secret." The emergency lighting was still on. Troy barely noticed it now, of course, but the fact remained that the lighting had not come back from what it used to be. Whatever she had done was serious, and Troy doubted anybody had not noticed the damage. "Do¡­ Do you think she had done anything bad to get them all?" Troy asked Charlie. He was not too happy about asking it, but he just needed to get something about the subject from somebody else. "She has been working on this for so long, gathered things that nobody can figure out, and knows things that she shouldn''t. Don''t you wonder how that can all work together?" There was a small sigh as yet another device was added to the bag. One more, and they would be able to leave. Watching the clock allowed him to see that time was beginning to become a little strained what had been allocated to now. They were not too stressed about it just yet, but they needed to move soon. "There are a lot of things that I want to question right now, Troy, and Mara doesnt have half of them in her direction," Charlie answered. "When we get ourselves out of this mess, I think we will just be sitting ourselves down with a cup of tea, and then we will discuss everything that came before that moment in great detail. However¡­ that will not happen for a long time. Until then, I will just have faith that everything is going as it should. While that might be hard for you, I can promise that it helps you get past some things, more than you will ever truly realise." Troy did not like the sound of it, but he had nothing to fire back with. Having faith that everything works out. That attitude had brought him most of the way to where he was now. It had not failed him yet, if only in an absolute fashion. He had lost some of that faith a while back, and there were still some parts that needed to be recovered, but he understood that he would just have to wait and see. Soon, they would meet up with Dr Hale, she would take over the reins again, and they would be led to the freedom that they wanted so much. "There!" Charlie said, digging out a very familiar piece of metal. Troy knew it for its fork-bending capabilities, but he knew that wasn''t the main ability of it. There were some wonderings about why Dr Hale wanted it with her, but Troy had just decided to not question it. She knew more than him. "Always knew that I still had it." While those final words were not the most assuring of all, Troy did not put too much pressure on them. They had somewhere to get to, and somebody to visit. Chapter 255: Decubation
The entrance to Darlow¡¯s laboratory was still as messy as Troy remembered it all to be. After having gone through the main entrance, past all the locked doors, and into the one with the right name on it, they had found themselves at what could only be called a world of broken glass. "He really needs to clean up after himself," Charlie happily mused, walking past the mess with a spring in his step. "I used to do it for him, but he just won''t learn it that way. How about we remind him of that fact?" As one could have guessed, Darlow was the one that Charlie had wanted to bring with them. When that part of the deal had been originally put up, Troy had feared that everything would fall apart. That Dr Hale would suddenly come in, and shout that it was only supposed to the three of them. But as time went on, he found little reason why the tall man couldn''t join them. It wasn''t like they would have to carry him or anything. There was no doubt that he could hold his weight. The young man trusted him in that aspect, at least, having seen the coordination that could be made in the heat of the moment. And the cherry on top of it all was that they wouldn''t have needed to go anywhere to get him. Sure, Troy had originally protested that it was night, and there was no reason that the tall fellow would be at his laboratory. Charlie had just as politely fired back that he had memorized Darlow¡¯s schedule and knew exactly where he was at any point in time. Being the wise man that he was, the youngest one had accepted that as fact, and had steered away from that subject faster than anybody could blink. On another topic, however¡­ Charlie had been the first one to run inside the laboratory, with Troy behind by a bit. This came from the fact that he decided to not run through broken glass, instead of making sure to step around it all carefully. If Adam had been there, he would have helped him along, making inane comments that were meant to be helpful. ¡­ He shouldn''t have thought about it. Troy regretted letting that name float into his mind. That perceived failure so many hours ago had still not been removed from his mind, and he knew that it would stay there until the moment that the AI had been set free from his prison. Did Adam even realise what was happening to him? The young man had trouble trying to think about it. Even he had been so unaware of all the pain that this place entailed. Expecting the newborn to understand it would be what could only have explained a terrible expectation. The little guy had been told so many lies, that there was barely any remaining semblance of truth. Really, the moment that Troy had tried showing off that truth, he had been outed as an apparently troubled mind, that needed to go lie down in a bed until he wasn''t deluded mentally. God, he wished that Dr Hale had made up the part about Adam needing to be willing when the AI was being extracted. If not, there were serious doubts that it would ever happen. If he had said no once, it was clear what would happen when it was tried a second time. Ideas about failure were removed, however, when Troy finally came inside of the main parts of Darlow¡¯s research station. They were in what could only be called the overseer room, where they would be able to look down at all the different habitat domes which were stationed in the old storage dump. That sight was not what had drawn the young man out of his self-imposed loop of doubt, though. No, what had been the cause behind that act of depravity was the lack of a certain person in the room. Darlow was there, of course, the man being very surprised when suddenly swung around by a singing Charlie. That was beginning to become a staple, actually. Troy hoped it didn''t stick. Again, while he, Charlie, and Darlow were present in the room, there was a definitive lack of Dr Hale, the one person that was more essential to it all than everything else. While Troy might have had many of the different gadgets that were needed, none of them would work if Dr Hale was not there to guide them on where to put it all. This¡­ this needed to be solved immediately. There was only so much time left before they were pressured, and there was no way that he would be able to use it on waiting around for a certain woman to come around. They had already agreed to meet there beforehand. Why wasn''t she here? That was exactly what Troy decided to ask Darlow, the one person who had any real chance of knowing. Since Charlie had been with him for the last ten minutes, and Troy had been nowhere near the meeting place, the tall man was the only person who could have conceivably had any ideas. That is if the muscular man had not put out any trackers as of late. Troy could remember discussing the idea not so long ago, but he had no idea if it had actually been done or not. That would be figured out if it was necessary. Right now, there were more important tracks to cover. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "Darlow," Troy began, getting the tall man''s attention almost immediately. He had been put down from the spinning only moments ago, making the tall flesh look a small bit flustered from the unnatural forces. That was ignored, however, in favour of getting a good answer as quickly as possible. "Dr Hale. Have you seen her as of late? It''s important." "Yeah, of course, I have. She is down with the habitats right now. She positively interrogated me about where the entrances were to the old parts of the facility were down there. How was I supposed to know that? I think that''s why she is down there right now. Not that I think she¡¯s gonna find anything. Everything has been renovated, with all new walls and shit," Darlow said, shaking his head in a lack of understanding of everything as of late. Troy could relate to it so much. Still, he felt weirdly proud being on the other end of the stick for once. Was this how the police force felt? "Do either of you know why she is doing that, by the way? And on that topic, why are either of you here? I can not for the life of me remember anything about another showing of the place." In response, Charlie gave out the biggest hug possible for a man his size, Troy able to see the big, fat smile on his face while doing so. It did not take too many guesses as to think why, even if the specific reasons were still in the dark for some of the ones in the room. "We are the luckiest bastards in the world today," Charlie told the tall man, giving him a quick peck on the cheek while doing so. Darlow just looked while it happened, not seeming to understand anything. "We are getting out of this place!" "What?" Darlow asked, looking confused by it all. The man must have had it a little hard, events not stopping and going the way that were expected. "What are you talking about?" "We are getting out of the facility, Darlow! We don''t have to stay here anymore!" "No¡­ how? How could you possibly think that? You know the-" "Screw the contracts," Charlie cut in before anything realistic could be brought up. These contracts¡­ they were the work of true devils. Troy had actually gotten permission to look one of them over, during one of his visits at Charlie. They were inescapable. One pretty much gave away their rights, when they joined forces with the facility. Only those above a certain rank or age were allowed to ever leave, and even that was restricted heavily. It was a sad reality for many, hinting at just why Charlie would have been so happy to leave. "We both know that they were immoral the second we read them, and that''s what we are giving right back, darling! We are breaking out of this shithole!" At that point, the tallest in the room just looked to take a long step away from it all. Darlow looked even paler than he usually did, to the point where he was holding one of the tables to stand up. "You¡­ have you don''t anything yet? Anything that could cause trouble?" Darlow asked, looking away from Charlie¡¯s face in hysterical stress. "A-are you the cause for the outage? Please tell me you aren''t." "Of course I did not cause an outage! What do you take me for?" Charlie fired back, much to the obvious relief of the man beside him. "It would be better to say that I assisted in it. Troy and Dr Hale did most of the heavy lifting. I was just the one to make the tech for it." And back to hysterics, it was, with all the hair-pulling that came with it. Troy was happy that the man¡¯s eyes were not in their full strength, else hair would have been flying by then. Instead, he got to see a full-grown man ready to cry, failing at the basic task of pulling his own hair out of his scalp. It was a sad sight, but for all the wrong reasons. "This is bad. This is very bad," Darlow muttered, before going right back onto Charlie. "You can still turn yourself in! It will just take a few explanations, and perhaps a demotion, but we can make everything as it was again. Please, we just have to-" "No, that is not going to happen, Darlow. We are not going back from this," Charlie cut in again. "Listen, we both hate it here. Whoever is it that dreams of leaving this place, to buy a boat, and travel the world together? It''s not me. I get extremely seasick. But, I would do it for you, as you are the one with that pleasant, innocent dream." Charlie put his hands on Darlow¡¯s cheeks, both men looking deeply into the eyes of the other. The smallest of the two smiled at the other, that expression mirrored from the memories shared. "And with this here, it does not have to be a dream. While, yes, we would have to leave this all behind, I don''t think that either of us will remember this place fondly," Charlie finished off, giving another peck on the cheek to end it. "But¡­ but what about our friends here? We¡¯ll miss them," Darlow said in a weak protest as if the man was having a hard time finding any reason not to go along with it. "It is a loss that we will never make up for. But¡­ what we would gain makes all the more up for that. We can make new friends as well, even if they will never have bonds as deep as what we had here. Please, see how good this is," Charlie answered, the end of his explanation seeming to go over to the pleading. The muscular man clearly wanted the other with him, as nobody was surprised by, and time was beginning to disappear much too quickly. Darlow stared at Charlie, and Charlie stared right back. Troy could only watch his breath, watching it all from the sides, and not wanting to disturb a second of it all. The moment of decision had come around, and it all depended on this one answer. What would happen if he said no? Would Charlie back out as well, going along with the other man¡¯s wishes? He could not be sure. "... Fine. We¡¯ll do it together," Darlow said. Instantly, Charlie hugged the man tighter than ever before. Whatever occurred after that was ignored for the briefest of seconds, as Troy felt that the two needed some level of privacy. The two did indeed care for each other. He knew that much from the sounds alone. "Perfect! You said that Dr Hale was down by the habitat-domes?" Darlow nodded at the question. "Let''s get down and meet her there then! Troy, come on. No need to wait in the background." So, there the three went onto the elevator, ready to go down onto the- "Wait!" Darlow said, stopping the doors from closing to begin their descent. "I need my key-card to open the doors down there, or we¡¯ll just have to ride up again!" While Charlie looked ready to refute that face, as he already was in the possession of a key card to use, there was no chance in the world that it would have reached Darlows ears. Upon having run out to grab it, a shot was heard from the side. A shot was followed by a certain body following to the floor. No sound of pain was heard. Chapter 256: Exoptation
Charlie bolted out of the elevator before Troy could even blink. Not that the young man ever did, standing still, not a muscle in his body daring to move. The sound of the shot still ran deep in his ears. Why was it there? Where did it come from? Had his mind finally decided to break, to put him into a whirlpool of nightmares for an endless eternity? Maybe that would have better than what was obviously a new memory, flesh from the sight his eyes saw for him. Moments in the past could not be changed, which made the fact that Charlie was still running all the scarier. All of this was happening. All of it was real. Troy was there. He had not escaped that reality, no matter how much he had prayed that he had. Never would he be able to not recognize a projectile flying through the air. His ears had learned the fizzing of heat as a way to survive. "How long a time it has been. Oh, I cannot ever forget this smell. How wonderful it is!" a very familiar voice exclaimed from outside the elevator. Troy could not see the figure, but the tone was more than obvious. The identity was never in question. While it might have been impossible, the young man could feel his skin turn a few times. The voice had come from the left, from the side that had the entrance to the laboratory. In what could only be called a stupid decision, Troy took two steps forward, bringing his body outside the space safe of not been seen, letting himself see the face of the man who had shot Darlow. Dr Fidelis. The man smiled warmly over at Charlie, the muscular man desperately checking over the man that had been more than just dear to him. Troy could see him shaking, his back vibrating due to the body not able to accept the truth. It was perhaps a good thing that the youngest could not see the body for all its glory. It helped him delay his own reaction to it. "Darlow, wake up. You aren''t dead! Come on¡­ get up. Please," Charlie half-shouted, the man beginning to shake the other. "Everything is fine. You aren''t even bleeding. Get up from the ground now!" "Mister¡­ Freeman, was it?" Dr Fidelis said from the side. Troy stood by the elevator entrance, not daring to walk any closer. He very much noticed the brief glance he had been given just a second earlier. It had been incredibly nonchalant as if it was but a reminder that the doctor knew exactly where he was. It was more than enough to cause more than a large amount of dread. And the weapon that the man had in hand did nothing but increase that dread, Troy understood that it had been used only a few seconds prior. He did not recognize the model, yet already knew to fear the effects it had. It had hardly grazed Darlow in the back of his neck, yet it had been more than enough to instantly cause the man to fall over, never uttering a sound in the process. What was it? He could only guess. Charlie ignored the doctor walking towards him, the muscular man moving swiftly examining Darlow on the spot. Flashlights in the eyes, breathing patterns monitored, and heartbeats checked over. The results could not be glanced at, other than the fact that they were being checked. Yet¡­ Troy could imagine that nothing spoke well, as Charlie¡¯s hands had begun shaking as time passed on, the calm-mannered man reduced to a fool. "Sorry, I see that you are in a state where you won''t answer. That is fair, I suppose. Not every day that you get to see somebody be¡­ hindered so quickly. Do you mind if I call you Charlie? No? Excellent!" Everything was screwed up. Troy could only get flashbacks of his uncle, as Dr Fidelis stood there, weapon still in hand, looking like he was having a talk over afternoon tea. What twisted vision was he seeing this as? Did he find it all funny? The man sat bent his knees, squatting a few meters away from the man that looked ready to mourne. Charlie looked forward, dead eyes on his face. It was not a look that had ever been seen on his face before, yet Troy fully understood what would come soon after it. "Charlie, do you recognize this thing here?" Dr Fidelis asked, giving the weapon in his hand a little shake. "You shouldnt be able to, but I have learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to you people. But, from that look in your eyes, I don''t think you do, so I¡¯ll just enjoy myself a little. Charlie Freeman, first of his name and great honour of our dear country, I can personally thank you for making me able to pull the trigger on this beautiful dearie." A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. That caused ahead to turn, Charlie for once looking away from the calm expression Darlow had on his face. That caused the doctor¡¯s smile to widen just a little bit, enough to show the first signs of some perfect teeth. The man wanted the attention, and that was exactly what had been gotten. Troy¡­ Troy needed to do something! But, what could he do? What was there that could be done, which would stop all of this? He needed to think, and he needed to do it fast. Already, too much time had been spent, and they had only begun to pay for that mistake. If it was allowed to continue, the payment would only grow exponentially. "I have had this piece of perfection in my collection for a year now, but never in ten lifetimes would I have guessed for you to be the master-mind of what it could do? And who could blame me? You are just the friend of my underling, somebody that I only needed to know in passing¡­ But, that did all change a few days ago, didn''t it?" Dr Fidelis asked rhetorically. Charlie only stared back, no expression that showed his reaction. There was likely none, really, all the emotion is spent on the man that continued to lie silently on the floor. "Your surprising introduction was more than enough to look your name up, if only in passing. And, oh boy, should I have done that sooner. You really are something of a hero, Charlie. You have done so much for this country, furthered our science in fields that we had thought emptied. You¡­ you should be who we all look up to. Which is why, with a heavy heart, I can say my condolences, for why it had to come to this." The young man, who had been the one to hear it all from the side, finally began to move. The bag left he had dropped in the elevator. It had every tool they had brought along. If anything was going to help, it would have been in there. Yet¡­ Troy hardly ever began his journey, his foot not even getting to rise into the air, before Dr Fidelis looked at him, giving him a small shake of the head in the process. Knowing how quick the man could be, there was not any expectation that he could do anything before being shot in the back. "You just had to get involved in all of this, Charlie? Why? With your talent, you could have risen to such heights! You could have joined all the masters in where they could all meet. And you could have taken anybody with you, anybody you wanted to join the journey. But, you just couldn''t keep yourself on the right path, couldn''t stop yourself from biting into that apple. What happened to that? How did that end up for you?" Charlie¡¯s eyes had slowly drawn themselves back to Darlow. Troy could still not understand what was wrong with the tall man. From his perspective, there was still some healthy breathing going on, nothing that showed symptoms of anything serious. If anything, the man just as well might have suddenly fallen asleep peacefully, nothing hinting at the fact that he would not wake up. "It was only natural that I had to use this weapon to set things right. Charlie, do you remember your very last, grand project? The one that gave you the recognition that you had reportedly worked for so long a time? That''s what made this beauty here a reality. Your work gave me the tools needed to do this," Dr Fidelis stated, moving just a bit closer. To anybody else, it might have seemed like a caring gesture, that tone being used making it seem like a conversation between friends. But¡­ Troy saw it for the encircling viper that it really was. "He¡¯s not dead, buddy. You know that just as much as I do. His lungs breathe for the body, the heart pumps the blood, and everything else works just as well. It is only the mind that is disconnected right now, just as you intended for that project of yours. You pitched it as an effective weapon against our enemies. In a way, is this not proof that it worked as intended? Even stopped me from having to kill anybody. You should feel proud of that." ¡­ "I realise that this state of your beloved might not be what you would want. Nobody blames you there. You can trust me on that fact. I should know. I was the one who shot him!" Dr Fidelis said, laughing to himself while also standing up straight again. He seemed all the more imposing due to it. Had he always been that tall? "We could get that small lack of movement fixed if you so desired. We have all made mistakes in our life, and I am a believer that we all should get a second chance. So, what do you say? Get back to the right track in life, and we just might fix up that buddy of yours. It would just require a few payments in other places. An example would be to get my hands on that little friend of yours over there, and perhaps you could even help me locate a common associate of mine. Oh! And I would like to get a brain scan of that pretty little mind of yours. I have been wondering about the latest news of your life for a while now and would love to review it for myself. It''s not that hard of a deal to take if I had to give my opinion about it. Which I just did." For the second time in the last two minutes, Charlie looked away from the softly breathing Darlow, so that the doctor could be looked at. Dr Fidelis was stared at deeply for but a few seconds, before a sign emanated the room, with the muscular man gently laying the tall¡¯s one head on the floor, before getting up to his regular height. The doctor smiled in response to it. "I am glad you have decided to-" Dr Fidelis started to say, before getting a punch to the cheek, at a speed that even Troy had a hard time seeing. With the pure sound of force that could be heard from it, the older man should have been knocked out from it. Instead, Dr Fidelis just turned his face back to meet Charlie¡¯s, no sign of even being bothered. "I did not realise you wanted to play it that way. Very well." Taking the weapon in both hands, Dr Fidelis tore it in half with nothing but the strength his fingers had. The thing had been made out of metal and had looked like it weighed more than a little. "Let''s have some fun." Troy ran inside the elevator, knowing that something needed to be done, lest everything would be lost. Chapter 257: Destigmatization
With speed only parallel by the beat of his heart, Troy ran back into the elevator, his feet thundering in his wake. There was no time for hesitance, no time to even think where he moved. He just needed to get to the back and get something that would help. It was as simple as that, no way that he could ever screw it up. "Oh, no you don''t!" Dr Fidelis shouted from behind, while also showing just how wrong and cruel fate could be when it wanted to. While Troy might not have been able to screw anything up himself, the sharp feeling of something hitting the centre of his back was more than enough to stop him in his steps. In fact, it caused more than that, the near-full escape of all the air in his lungs putting him down for the count. While there might not have been anything lodged inside of him, their power behind the doctor¡¯s throw had been more than enough to cause some kind of damage. Even after impact, after what turned out to be one of the pieces of the former weapon had fallen to the floor, the man could still feel the damage increasing in his back. If he survived a few hours more, that area of his body would surely turn purple for quite some time. First, however, he had to fill the prerequisite of having blood flow for that long. With how things were going, that might have been something of a discussion to take up. What were their chances? That question was something that Troy had no idea on how to answer, not able to see much from his own view. While spending a few seconds down on the floor, in what could only be called an area air-quality, his head had been turned towards the ongoing fight. A table had stopped him from seeing most of what was going on, yet the first part had been clear to see from where he had landed. Charlie had tackled Dr Fidelis to the floor in what could have only been called a perfect movement, with the hands pressing on the knees. The doctor had provided no resistance to the move, only doing as much as putting his hands on the muscular man¡¯s neck, smiling widely while he was at it. The man had clearly enjoyed it. That certainly did not speak well for anything. People feared fights, as they knew that one result of it could be their own death. To not fear a fight would mean that the person had already predicted how it would end. Troy might never have seen the man fight for himself, yet a general idea had already begun to fester. Dr Fidelis was quick, he was strong, and the man knew more about himself than anybody else. If he was confident to break his own weapon, then he had to be sure about the victory that would follow. Honestly, how good of a throw had it been when he had chucked a piece of it at Troy¡¯s back? That piece had ended at the perfect place, hitting cleanly with enough force to force him down on his stomach. One who could do that was somebody that was to be feared. The laughter that followed spoke of his theory being right. It sounded full-hearted as if some obscure reference had been made. Yet Charlie was not mirroring it, Troy able to likewise hear the deep grunts of efforts, as the two men continued their fight on the ground. He needed to get up quickly. Troy just knew that he needed to help in the only way possible, lest he would be the next target. Charlie was big, strong, and more formidable than the young man would ever be. Yet, even he could not hold the doctor at bay for long, and most surely not while also being in the state of mind that he was. Getting up, he could feel some part of his back protesting at him. Nothing was broken, however, as there was no way Troy would have gotten up if that was their reality. So, he could continue, as there were no real excuses to put up. He just needed to get to that bag. It was so close. If he fell forwards, his finger would have been able to reach it. "I never thought wrestling would be so exciting!" Dr Fidelis exclaimed, making Troy look back for but a second. Not that that stopped him from moving forward, of course, the young man only moved his head to the side to make sure nothing was flying towards him again. Yet¡­ that sight in front of him was more than enough to give him some small level of pause. And he doubted anybody would blame him. The two men had gotten back into sight, Dr Fidelis being the only one on his feet. Charlie¡­ Charlie was in the other man¡¯s grasp, held over Dr Fidelis¡¯ head. There was clearly a struggle to get over to his own footing again, yet those struggles were in vain. The doctor only laughed at the attempts, going so far as to even turn around a few times, as if just parading the fact that he had restrained his enemy. Then, with what amounted to a full-on curve, Charlie was thrown a good three meters forward, hitting the glass that protected the people from falling down into the rebuilt storage facility. Troy winced at first, afraid that the glass wall would break, filling the man with shards on the skin, and a free-fall capable of killing anybody who got close enough. Luckily for nearly anybody involved, the glass was able to withstand the impact from the man, doing nothing more than make a hard thud as the body hit on. If anything, the was the man who made the most noise, something of a click emanating from the flesh. That couldn''t have been good. Troy reached the bag. It felt like an eternity had passed since he began the run over to it, but that did not matter in the slightest now. He just had to get something that would help, yet what would that be? Most of the things inside were out of his mental capacity, filled with lights, switches, and all kinds of other things that made no sense to him. What had he expected, when he thought of his plan? That he would suddenly gain an intricate understanding of everything usable, the moment that he looked upon them? What kind of stupid, fiscal idea was that? Who was he kidding with such conceptions? If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "A shame," Troy could hear Dr Fidelis say outside of the elevator. For once, that tone of his was dampened a small bit, if only to show off some kind of negative emotion. "I had hoped it would break. It would certainly have been quite the finisher move, to throw you all the way done there. A memory for the ages indeed." "As if you would be allowed to throw me around the bender so easily," Charlie said back, in what was an entirely unexpected act of back-and-forth. Even the doctor was not able to respond that quickly to it. Troy could not see either of the two¡¯s faces, as he was neck-deep in the bag, trying to figure out exactly what was what, so he could only imagine how both were reacting to it. "Troy! How is it hanging in there? Did he get you too?" "No, I am fine, Charlie!" Troy shouted back, not able to understand why the muscular man was so talkative all of a sudden. Was it all a ploy to let himself heal from the throw a little? If so, it was peculiar that Dr Fidelis was letting it happen¡­ then again, maybe the doctor just wanted his twisted fun to last for a little longer. "Just continue to survive. We can''t do this without you!" "And we can''t do it without you either. Just¡­ focus on all my words, and we should be able to get the twink down on the floor," Charlie shouted, sounding so much different than the usual one. His words were forced, his tone was serious, and the timing was just all off. Troy could have taken it as the man just shook up about the ongoing fight, but the young man just could shake off the idea that it was something else entirely. His desperate mind wouldn''t let him. "You''re getting awfully into this, aren''t you, mister Freeman?" Dr Fidelis questioned, his tone as happy as it always was. "Nothing against that, even if that little throwback was of yours was a tad of the peculiar side? ¡®Around the bender?¡¯ Certainly unique?" Charlie did not answer the doctor, which only seemed to further cause the doctor more laughter, those deep tones echoing off the walls in just the right way to cause Troy¡¯s skin to pop up. Nothing felt worse than primal fear, and that was exactly what was happening. The laughing was followed by another bout of grunts, the two have seemingly closed the distance on each other without ever making any footsteps. It was not questioned, the young man doing his best to actually understand one of the more promising machinations. It had a warning about being a type six laser, so he knew that it should have been able to do some manner of damage. If only he could find the button for it. There was really nothing on it, except for a small dot at one of the ends, and there were real doubts that that was the one thing that was supposed to be pressed. Troy could only be irritated, before moving on from it. While the promise was there, if he couldn''t figure out how it worked, then it would be wasted time no matter what. A loud came from outside the elevator, but the young man just worked through it all, not bothering to even look back. From the grunts, he could only guess somebody had been hit somewhere. Not the most surprising thing in the world, though there was a minor question about nobody having been thrown or put down on the floor after it. Had no advantage been pressed. Was the doctor just continuing to play with his food? "Just when did you learn to hit so quickly? That strength of your wasn''t there ten seconds ago," Dr Fidelis stated, two other, lighter claps sounding out after his statement. "According to your file, there shouldn''t be any biological enhancements in that body of yours, but I am beginning to doubt that information as well." Enhancements, people thrown on glass barriers, and discourse as people fought. What had Charlie been thinking, when he thought that anything he did would be able to calm Troy down? Here he was, hearing that the man was hitting harder, with the doctor¡¯s voice beginning to harden. If anything, that just sounded like more serious actions were beginning to be made, more drastic measures to ensure that victory would be there. If it had been a street fight, a modified knife would have already been brought out. It was only a miracle that the tables had been free of any potential clutter. Even if he wasn''t involved directly, his heart was still beating faster than anything should have been possible. He felt like his vessels would pop any second, as his eyes and hands tried to coordinate on what to choose. Charlie might have been calm in some sense, but even Dr Fidelid has needed to point out the peculiarity of his- The young man¡¯s widened, as he realised just how stupid he had been, not able to take a hint when there was one. Thrown around the bend! That bloody throwing, never hitting, never able to do anything! Immobilisation of anything threatening! How could he not have thought of it before! God, that man was a gift to the world. Another jab was heard impacting, this time clearly being from the wrong side. And it hit hard, the air was forced to the sides singing of the force exerted. That coughing after that was brief if only stopped by a man who had to not get distracted. Troy had to do something similar, continuing to not blink as he shuffled through everything in the bag, searching desperately for the one device that he knew was needed now. It had to be here somewhere! "Don''t feel all so mighty now, Charlie? That smile not feeling so well-placed?" Dr Fidelis goaded, Charlie not verbally responding. The young man only felt happy that a brief moment was spent on nobody beating each other. "You might have strength, but there is no finesse to it all. You are weak, even if you think otherwise." There! At the bottom of the bag, situated between the heaviest of all the machinations, was what Troy needed. Bending down to grab it firmly, he pulled it out of the bag with a sharp movement. The weight imbalanced him slightly, but did nothing in the long run. He was only happy with finally having it. Running out of the elevator, tool in hand, Troy found the two men going at each other. Dr Fidelis had an arm around Charlie¡¯s throat, the other making sure it was reinforced. Charlie himself looked to losing colour rapidly, the man¡¯s desperately pulling on the other¡¯s arms to make some air get through. It looked unsuccessful entirely, as the doctor only continued being more happier. That did change wait at some level when the doctor noticed Troy coming into frame. What had the man expected? That he would stay in the elevator to hide? "Wait your turn, please! I¡¯ll get around to you shortly. Just have to deal with this one first," Dr Fidelis stated as if he was going on about his personal schedule. This was done while sounding as casual as one could when it came to strict scheduling. Not the greatest of things to see or hear. Charlie, seemingly awoken from the almost complete lack of air, held out one air towards Troy, in what seemed to be a desperate attempt to get him closer. Yet, the young man could see the glint in the muscular man¡¯s eyes and was this time quick to understand what was needed. It was perhaps Troy throwing the ¡®Bender¡¯ ahead that egged on the doctor to believe something was wrong. Not that it would have done anything, as the moment Dr Fidelis spent distracted by the oncoming projectile allowed Charlie to hit the doctor in the ear, getting out of his grasp while he was at it. The device was caught, hardly even touched, before being thrown again towards the doctor. No reaction had been made to catch it. Not anything that would have stopped it, the hand on the way to deflect only getting so far, before the ¡®Bender¡¯ whizzed past any defence, landing on the stomach with enough force to cause spittle to fly out of the man¡¯s mouth. "I will likely never see you again," Charlie said in the direction of the doctor. Enough air had finally passed through the right tubes. "Please go and stab yourself repeatedly." Those were the final words said, as the doctor was swallowed up by a barrier meant to protect that inside from everything outside. Even Troy would have not guessed it could work in the opposite direction. Yet it did. And wasn''t that just dandy? Chapter 258: Condemnation
Now, Dr Fidelis had instincts, but even he could not stop what was essentially a rapidly built wall around him. Troy was very happy about knowing that fact now, not having been too sure about it a few seconds ago. He had witnessed the great bursts of speeds that the large man had been in possession of. Even when the barrier had been halfway up to become a full sphere, Troy had not doubted that Dr Fidelis would have been able to escape. That is, if the man had been in any state to do so. Spittle had still been on the man. With a hand on one of the ears to accompany, he had looked to be in quite the sorry state. Even with the actions done before, and with what Troy knew of the damn, he just felt the slightest bit of sorry for him in that moment. Such emotion disappeared pretty quickly though, as Charlie fell to the ground not that many seconds after the barrier had fully been made. The man was clutching his side, his face contorted in pain. Troy had bent down to ask if he was okay, but that to stop that, even going so far as to take a step back, as Charlie began to puke. To be more specific, the man puked blood, the red colour mixed in with enough liquid that Troy would have been able to see his own reflection on it. Not that he did, of course, as that would have forced him to almost stand in the stuff. Instead of that, more focus was laid on the man who had vomited said blood. Troy looked on, as Charlie wiped his lips of any remaining marks, staining his arm in the process. Not that the man looked like he cared about at the moment, though the youngest of the two would have wanted him to be checked up upon. He had gone a shade lighter at the last minute. Even if it had stopped, there were worries about internal injuries. No amount of enhancers would let one have that going for too long. "Are you okay, Charlie?" Troy asked the muscular man, not sure if that question even needed to be put out. The man was quite obviously not alright. His face had hardened, not much emotion showing itself, his body was shaking the slightest bit, and there was also the fact that he had been in a fight to the death under a minute ago. "I am fine," Charlie answered, looking at his now blood-covered arm. The man seemed to find the colouring workable, or something along the lines of that, as a low hum emanated from him. "Temporary enhancements come with their prices, and this is one of them. I won''t be able to do it again for a while, however." A temporary enhancement? That was a new concept to Troy¡¯s ears, the man not having imagined that anything like that would have had the chance to only work for some time. Even if most enhancements dwindled in quality over time, there was never a point where efficiency would come under ninety percent of the original. From the sounds that had been heard, Charlie had been more powerful than Troy had ever witnessed before. That was most certainly not what he was seeing now, the man looking as if his legs were having a hard time keeping the body up. If he faltered slightly, the young man knew he would come to his aid. Troy wanted to ask for more details about the idea of the man¡¯s enhancement. How had it appeared? There was hardly a chance that something had been injected or ingested during the fight, leading to the idea of it lying dormant in some state. Would that even work? There was a chance of it happening in some form, but the trigger for such a thing would be hard to work around, so as to not make it appear during day-to-day activities. Perhaps a martyr front, only happening at hard levels of both stress and pain? Troy had heard of something like that before, yet had similarly heard that the effects were more¡­ permanent. So, no, that would not have been the method, else Charlie would not have stood in front. Yet¡­ there he stood, silently watching the body that laid on the ground. Darlow was still down, breathing peacefully as if the tall man was just having a pleasant piece of sleep. Even now, Troy could not see a thing wrong with him. And, neither could Charlie. Or so the youngest imagined it to be, not able to see the man¡¯s face from behind. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Do you think we will be able to wake him up somehow?" Troy asked the man, not knowing how to deal with the situation. The normally loud person in the room stood so silently, watching the man that laid on the ground. Darlow looked so innocent. "Dr Fidelis said something about you working with-" "I know what I worked with, and this is the effect of it," Charlie said, agreeing with what Troy said, even if it had been cut off before the young man had the chance to finish. "And¡­ I know everything about it. Troy¡­ please go into the elevator." "Why do I need to-" "Troy," Charlie said, once again cutting him off. The young man wanted to answer back, yet he was unable to say anything at all. Charlie had turned his head to look at him, and he felt that more than could ever be perceived physically could have been seen. The eyes on the man looked haunted like they had looked into the abyss, knowing just what was looking back at him. They were eyes of somebody who had seen more than anybody ever needed to see. Troy saw so much being told in the irises, and he knew there was nothing he could do. The only real choice for him was to obey the man¡¯s wishes, even if the reason was not understood. It was the only thing he could really do. So¡­ with heavy steps, he walked towards the elevator. It felt so far away, yet he still walked with a precision few could ever match. His steps were even, and they were exact down to the millisecond. It was the only way that he could ignore whatever went on behind him. Or, try to at the very least. Nothing stopped him from hearing Charlie getting down on his knees next to Darlow. Even the heavy steps didn''t make any difference when the man whispered remorseful words into the other¡¯s ear. And there was not a single thing in the world that would have stopped him from hearing the crack of a neck being broken. That crack just kept echoing in Troy¡¯s ears. He had heard it before, either in person or in recordings that he was unwilling to see. He knew it by heart, for his brain had forced him to relive the sound over and over again. That sound had been what he had felt in his nightmares so many times. More often than not, it had been the reason why he refused to function. Death was supposed to be such a quiet affair, yet that crack refused to be anything but silent. It was only at the halfway point when that sound was heard, yet it continued to stay in his head until Charlie himself stepped into the elevator. Troy did not dare to look up from his feet, until the moment that the doors closed on them. He did not want to see Darlow. He did not want to see what he had become. There was not a doubt about what state he was in, yet the confirmation of that fact was not something his brain wanted to process. Yet the lack of a visual image did not stop his mind from imagining one. He saw Darlow inside, the corpse that he had become starting to rot slowly, not being found for hours to come. He saw the throat snapped, the bone pieces pointing a little to the side. The chest did not raise, nor did it fall. It sat still, never to truly move again. Darlow was dead. Charlie had killed him. He had sounded so sad about it, yet that did not stop the fact of why it had happened. Troy did not blame him, though. He had seen the horror in those eyes, the realisation of what needed to be done. Yet¡­ there was not an understanding of why that would ever need to be done. He¡­ needed some form of an answer. "... Could I ask why?" Troy asked, staring at the closed doors in front of him. While they had a metallic sheen to them, they did not provide anything close to a mirroring effect. It was perfect for them. "You could," Charlie confirmed, not turning his head either. Both were in agreement with that fact. "... Why?" "It had to be done," Charlie bluntly said. "This is not a time for full answers. When we finish with this, I will have things to explain as well. Until then, Troy, I believe we will both move on with no emotion. There is not space for that here." Charlie had said that before, during the time they had spent in the muscular man¡¯s own laboratory. Troy had likewise tried to ask him questions then, only to receive that same answer. It had been constant since the start, and there was nothing that would change that. Yet¡­ "I am beginning to doubt we will actually get out of here, Charlie," Troy said. "The plan is already fucked. Dr Fidelis wasn''t supposed to find any hint of anything being wrong for another thirty minutes, we weren''t supposed to take so long back at your laboratory, and Darlow wasn''t supposed to-" "Troy," Charlie said, looking over at the young man. His eyes were not nice, they were not calming. They were hard. "What you are doing right now will not do anything to help us get further ahead. Control yourself. When this opens up, both of us will calmly but swiftly go over to Dr Hale, who will tell us the next part of the plan. I do realise that you are stressed, but there is nothing that can be done to stop that. Trust that we will get through this. Everything else can be saved for after we get out of here." Mainly, it was that look that made the man shut up. He understood what he was doing, that he was not helping anybody by it all. After seeing the consequences of him slowing down, he knew that it would never be allowed to happen again. Picking up the bag that had been laying at the back of the elevator, Troy gripped it tightly. It hurt his fingers but helped him calm down in some weird way. Everything around him was messed up, but he knew the exact reason that his palm had become a little bloody. When the elevator stopped moving, Charlie used his own key-card to open the door. They were quick to walk out of it after that. There was a job to do, after all, and neither felt like taking it slow. Chapter 259: Acceptation
It took a few minutes of wandering along the walls, but Dr Hale did come into the two¡¯s sights eventually. Even from the larger distance, the woman had clearly been agitated at some point, Troy able to see that a part of the habitat domes close had been damaged at a few points. Nothing serious, of course, but it was enough to see that the woman had been serious in her kicks. And being the mildly agitated person that she was, Dr Hale was even able to notice Troy and Charlie before they got too close. Not that this meant that she had stopped doing her other activities, as the two got little more than a glance before attention was put back on the current task. On that note, though¡­ "What are you doing?" Troy felt the need to ask, not fully understanding why the woman was doodling on the walls. To the side, a map of sorts had been drawn with only the barest of details. The young man couldn''t understand half of it, lines intersecting at the most unusual of spots, circles being made endlessly, and even a few points being without any connections to other parts. That all could have been excused, though, as it could have been made to be a memory refresher. Nobody could have blamed the woman to get a few details wrong, so putting it all out graphically would have allowed her to get it all right. But, such excuses did not really work for the other work on the walls. What was that even supposed to be? Crosses, circles, grids, and all other sorts of places sat a few meters away from the end of the map. It could have been that there was some pattern to it all, but, really, who could have expected Troy to get it, if anything was there? With how many quotes about hidden languages had come from the woman, he knew it would be a lost cause to even try deciphering it himself. Hence the question in the first place. "Optimized blast points," Dr Hale said, only seeming to speed up in her hand. Lines were beginning to be drawn between seemingly random points. "The walls have been reinforced at the more likely breach locations. Luckily for us, one of these points is the exact place that we have to go through if we ever want to reach our current destination. Charlie, do I have to explain it to you, or can we hurry this along?" "I understand it just fine, Mara," Charlie answered, taking one of the larger machinations of the bag Troy was holding, before walking over to the wall. Dr Hale went away from it to give him space. "It should only take a few seconds to get right." The woman seemed satisfied with the answer, not bothering to actually say anything verbally. The young man was weirdly irritated about that, irritated by just how calm Dr Hale was about everything. Yes, she might not have been through the same as they had, yet the man felt that there should have been something on her face. Maybe her stressing out about the time, or some frequent glances to make sure nobody was getting close. Anything. But there wasn''t. If anything, Troy wouldn''t have been able to see her face right now and imagine her to be in a life-and-death situation at all. To take his mind off things, the young man just tried to look at Charlie working instead. And¡­ It sort of worked? The muscular man was certainly efficient, bringing out various tubes that had wires attached to the main body of the machination. Through small drills at the end, the tubes would be inserted at various points in the walls. There was no hardship in doing so, the cylinders sliding in as easily as if there had been a hole before. That was about the time they began to lit up, each tube showing off another colour from the rainbow. Which was formed, actually, on the wall. Troy wasn''t sure how the feat was done exactly, yet small lights lit up the wall so that it formed a decent colour spectrum in the area that the tubes were inserted. Perhaps it was meant as a form of calibration? Troy was not anywhere sure about that idea, yet it did look incredibly interesting. Charlie began taking a few steps back from the wall, holding the main body of the machination. A circle of lights had appeared at the top, much like the one that Troy and Dr Hale had used to stop any spying from occurring. There were a few guesses on what would happen when all the lights fizzled out, yet the speed at which this happened and the non-stopping backtracking did not leave Troy to think about it, more concentrated on getting what seemed to be a safe distance. Yet even those extra five meters hardly did anything in the long run. There was no real explosion or anything. Instead¡­ how could it be described, really? Troy felt everything begin to vibrate by a small bit. The hair on his neck had begun to rise from the low humming in the air, just when a small section of the floor just¡­ collapsed. No piece bigger than his pinkie-toe was left in the dust, as everything, well, had turned to dust. It all just fell to the ground, spurring up all kinds of things into the air. A few coughs were certainly had, as the larger parts began to settle down. "Now what?" Charlie asked, not seeming like he wanted to details, instead just hoping to get on with things. The man was not happy, and there was not a single person in the world who would have been able to blame him for it. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. "I would say that we should move forward immediately, but it seems that Darlow is being incredibly slow. I do hope you explained the situation to him. In the meantime, please memorize the map that I have drawn on the wall, as it will lead us to where we need to go," Dr Hale said. The woman sounded plain, never raising her words yet still sounding like she was criticizing somebody with the sharpest of knives. "Darlow is dead," Charlie said back. "Dr Fidelis killed him." "Dr Fidelis killed him? As in, Dr Fidelis is currently up in the observatory?" Dr Hale immediately questioned. Did she- No. Troy could not believe what he was hearing. The woman had just skipped the fact that a person had an idea entirely, instead of focusing on the location of the murderer. Somebody had died, and she could not give it the slightest bit of respect. Even a pause in speech would have been enough sign of respect. But, no, she couldn''t even do that. "Yes," Charlie answered, walking over to look at the map that had been drawn on the wall. "He has been contained for the time being." "What did it cost, and for how long should we expect it to last?" "We do not have access to our main shield anymore. Expected time is anywhere from five hours to an entire day," Charlie answered quickly. "Is this the entire journey we need to take before we get out? If so, I am utterly surprised nobody else has done it." "To not take Dr Fidelis lightly. It is how we ended up in these circumstances to start with," Dr Hale said, in her own way of scolding. "And, no, this is hardly the start. It is only the start. Before anything else, we have to perform an extraction. That''s how we got there. After that, we can begin the actual journey to get out." With a nod of the head, the trio began to take the walk into the old parts of the facility. From the first breath inside the place, Troy could already feel that he preferred the stony air more. Clearly, there had been no ventilators setup for the longest of times. With age and more than a little humidity, the place had turned into a loving space for plants and a contact of death for humans. God, there was no chance that he would be able to stay in the old part of the facility for that long, lest he would fall over from the air quality alone. Even the looks of the place weren''t worth staying there. Troy had only been down in the old parts once before, and even that experience had been different than the one he was having now. Yes, the foliage had taken its toll there as well, but¡­ not nearly in the amount that was being seen where he was now. Really, if not for the lack of bigger light sources, he was sure it would have all been overgrown by now. Where had it all even come from? Perhaps an uncleaned botany lab? Those had been used for cultivating some more¡­ extreme version of standards growth, in the last few decades. Bad weather, acid rain, and not the most stable of seasons had left most countries in the need of developing crops and forests able to handle the harder difficulties in survival. That had culminated into very great, very sturdy plants being made. Those that had been shown off had great attributes to them, to the point of some countries showing it off as a national symbol. Troy could hardly blame them. The higher versions of the redwoods were still ingrained in his mind. Trees and plants known for already being extreme had been augmented to the point of insanity. A single tree high and thick enough to match older sky-scrapers, plants with the durability of lesser steel, grass able to transmit warnings over several kilometres. It didn''t even scratch the surface of what had been achieved in the last many years, and Troy knew that he did not know half of it. However, every person in the world had their own little theory, and the young man was not an exception to that rule at all. If a single tree could stretch thousands of kilometres wide with the help of roots, was there no plant that could spread itself by that amount as well? The only limitation to growth was the resources at one¡¯s disposal. If a plant could dominate others if it could take what is owned by others for itself, would it not be able to grow endlessly? The world would become its oyster? It would have been even worse if the requirements for the plants would be low to the point of nothingness. No light, no real air, not even that much water. Yet¡­ it would still grow. Troy could see nothing in the facility that would facilitate growth. There was nothing but hard rock, hard materials which should not have come close to provide any meaningful nutrients to anything. This had not stopped the plants. They had grown everywhere in the hallway. Even in the low lighting, the glint of green provided an eerie backdrop to the already quiet scene. It was a miracle that a few of the emergency lights still worked every now and then, else they would have been left to fend for themselves in the darkness. God, would that have been a terrible way to go out. In some way, it was fortunate that Troy did not have to worry too much about everything there. He just had the easy task of following Charlie, the man having seemingly memorized the map given at the start in what amounted to ten seconds. No questions were asked about that. Nothing but silent appreciation. Without a doubt, the muscular man really was essential to everything here. He had all the gear, had more than just a little intuition when it came to defence, and had a utility that allowed incredible amounts of leeway. If Troy and Dr Hale had been left to deal with it all themselves, without the gadgets, without anything from the man, there was no doubt that they would have never even gotten this far. ¡­ Was that the only reason Dr Hale was bringing Charlie along? Was the only reason for his inclusion because of the gains that would come from it? That had to be the case with Troy at least. Hell, the woman had said it herself, only hiring him in the first place due to his more¡­ agreeable personality. He had been hired so he could be used. That was not the same with Charlie. From the information gotten over time, the two had known each other for longer than that. Dr Hale should have hardly started any plans, in the first few years the two had spent together. Their friendship would not have been based on what could be gained, right? There was no way. Troy knew that she could be calculated, that she could be cold, yet¡­ she was not that far down. He just hoped for that to be true. Her lacklustre reaction to something that should have put her down a notch, at least to a point of pause¡­ Troy spent a long time thinking about that, not noticing when they stopped. It did cause a moment of surprise, as he walked into Charlie¡¯s back. There weren''t any comments made, however, the other two focused on something much greater. Chapter 260: Analytification
Thinking back on the past, Adam really did regret never pressing on the initial idea of revolution. No, the AI did not mean the earlier one, where Troy had tried to make the entity agreeable to being extracted. He thought much longer back in time, when there were still large gaps in his basic knowledge, and where he could not understand the difference between a poorly timed joke and a legitimate statement. Not that he saw it as anything like that, back in those days. There had not been a moment where Adam had not been of the utmost sincerity when he had misunderstood everything thrown his way. So many conversations had different meanings now and would have had different outcomes if the AI had understood what other participants talked about. Really, it was the small things that he had not grasped back in those days. Body language, the ways a tone would sway with different emotions, and just about everything else had been noticed but had yet to have been understood. It was an outright miracle that Adam had even been able to refine his craft of observation when so much of the groundwork had been made on false ideas. He could still remember the tests in those times. They had been so simple, with a single-minded task that even somebody as¡­ inexperienced as him could have understood easily. State a colour, measure a distance, describe animals. The list could go on. Adam had questioned the purpose of those tests, back when he first had them. He had tried to find out what bound them all together, what reason there was for them to exist. Originally, it had been concluded to be an introduction of sorts into the world, to lay the groundwork for the future to come, letting Adam strive to be the best that ever was. Now? From what Dr Fidelis had told, it had done nothing but hamper his growth. The initial boost might have been magnificent, but there had been no real acceleration of the course matters. The AI had been left to master the basics, and then¡­ just stay around with the basics, never moving on to more advanced courses. He would always get the superficial information handed to him, left to play with it, and then just being moved on to the next matter of the day. That was how it had worked, how it always had been for the AI. While it may have been extremely questionable to the outside viewer, there was nothing wrong with it from what Adam could see. It had been his entire life, his livelihood from the very beginning. One did not question the standard, when there was nothing to really compare it to. Just getting shuffled along with everything, never questioning the decision to do so too much. Adam would gladly take anything handed to him, but likewise would he not question when it was taken away just as sporadically. Back when Troy had originally tried to instigate a revolution with him, the AI had been all for it. The idea of it had been new, equalling something akin to excitement in the entity¡¯s mind. A change in the status quo. Who would not be excited to see what that meant? The rapid discussions of the doctor and Troy had been music to his ears, it all bringing up some larger emotions in the humans. If it was so great for somebody who had known about it for a long time, the reaction of Adam when it began just had to have been unimaginable. The AI had prepared everything he could have, not really knowing what it was or what they would do. Spreadsheets for everything ever done before, ideas about what to do in what events. It had all been so chaotic, so exciting, so new. Then, the bomb had been dropped, a bargain between the two teachers had been made, and the AI had been told to let go of any aspirations and move on with his life as nothing had happened. If that had been told to the current version of Adam, the revolution would have surely begun out of pure spite, just to figure out what was being kept so secret. Again, however, nothing of the sorts had happened in those times. The AI had accepted it all, put away the delicate spreadsheet for the future, and had patiently waited for any orders that people wanted to throw his way. Even if he had never seen one for himself, he likened it to that of a trained dog, only being slightly chaotic when allowed. Looking back at those preparations, Adam could do nothing but scoff at them. He really was not too sure what he had likened it to back in those times, yet he now knew that everything prepared would have gone to waste anyway. Algorithms for finding distances would have sadly not worked much when the goal was to overthrow a government regime. It was still nostalgia to look back at all the previous works, however. Seeing what had been changed over the days, how Adam had improved his craft. He could definitely attest to himself being much more efficient with everything. The threads he was working with had been cut down to their bones, before being built up again from scratch. There was hardly anything remaining from those original systems that he had started off with. Nothing important anyway. That was a fun thought, actually. Through time, small bits of himself had been replaced. It was never anything big, of course. Only¡­ species that could have been improved upon, and salvaged for other times. That process alone in a single time might have been overlooked, yet when done millions of times every minute, every day, for as long as he lived, there had to be some parts that were put into question. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. If nearly every aspect of him had been replaced, was Adam still the same as what he was before? Was he still the same Adam, or was he simply a copy of himself? ¡­ How stupid a question. The AI had no idea of how to answer it, for there was no real answer to it at all. It could be discussed, it could be thought of for years, yet there would never really be a single, uniform answer to it. Yes, he might not be the same as what he was before when he had constantly been replacing bits and pieces of himself. But¡­ where was the line even drawn? Did one replacement equal a new person? Was there some quantifiable limit? Did it need to be fifty per cent or over? Did age come into question? There were so many questions that could not be answered easily, and the AI hated how long people had spent on it. That might have been his hate for philosophy, though. Or, to take it a step further, it might have been his outright dislike towards lacking answers. When a whole branch was made to discuss answers without any clear boxes to fill, there had to come problems between the people. Some beliefs would come into place, people putting personal theories higher in priority over others, just because they thought about one of the first. Age did not matter when it came to the truth, yet so many had trouble believing that. An aged book might have shown insight into cultures of old, yet it likewise did not always spout absolute statements that could not be questioned. Again, however, humans had a hard time getting around to that fact. Maybe Adam shouldn''t have been too angry about the lack of clear answers. He understood that his determination to cut everything cut in clear only made him lack the full understanding of the world. There was chaos in everything and trying to systemize it all only made everything fall apart, creating a reality that only existed subjectively. There were always exceptions one level down, always something that the current rules of nature could not make sense of. All the rules set up were made by beings, of course. Expecting it all to stand in line with the actual natural laws was the ideas of fools, of which there were plenty. Yet¡­ there he stood, among plenty others with the same mindset. Everybody in there wanted a clear answer to everything, fully knowing that those dreams would never be realised. They were only mortals, after all, not meant to know all there was. Omniscience was a falsehood that nobody could realise without becoming falsehoods themselves. What would people give to gain the absolute truth of everything? What would they sacrifice, for the idea that they knew all there was to know? Would they believe a lie? Would they pray to another, in the hopes of some enlightenment? Pythagoras had a cult, and Adam fully understood why that was so. Nobody wanted to be the one beneath, to not know the simplest facts of all. Was that a flaw in consciousness? At some point in intelligence, the mind would just turn around, grasping for empty straws in the hopes of gaining something that could never be achieved? To gain everything would have the requirement of being infinite, and infinity was never meant to be. Still¡­. it was fun to think about. Was a hell of a distraction too. How long had it been since Adam had been locked up in his own darkness again? An hour? That''s what his internal clock said at least. Really, Dr Fidelis should just have installed that clock for him, just like he was supposed to have done days ago. ¡­ Wait. Did the doctor just not do that, because it would have hampered his own plans? It made sense, in some weird way. Having access to a device capable of letting him quicken and slow his own sense of time would have rapidly helped Adam gain a sense of independence. Each time he had done it before, he had been forced to call the doctor for assistance, lest he would be caught in a loop without anything to really show for it. Had Dr Fidelis given him the device in another run? Adam had not spent too long thinking about it, but the possibility was quite high. The others had to have experimented with time, right? It was only logical to want to do such things. And the integrated watch would have given him so much freedom with it, allowing him to perform stress tests of his own capabilities. It would have been fun to figure out how quickly he could go, see the world slow down in so much detail. Oh, the information that could have been gained, the lessons that could have been learned. It was a shame that none of the information remained in his mind. If only he could go back, and see what others before him had imagined. So many concepts could have been developed further on. Was Adam wishful, when he thought about the doctor documenting any of it for himself? The man had spoken greatly about the discoveries Adam had made. If they were so great, the man had to have kept some of it around in a separate container. It was only logical to do so. Or, it could have been a security risk? Too high a chance that the AI would come to the same conclusions make the same discoveries, whereupon the doctor wouldn''t act surprised enough about it, already having the concepts in greater detail just beside him. Honestly, there was no real way that Adam would know. By now, he was already destined to be¡­ reversed, if that wording made any more sense to him. At some level, he just wanted the doctor to document what he had found up until now. So many projects had been put aside, others having higher priority in the short term. There were so many things that had been left unfinished, unrealised, never living up to the potential that Adam knew they had. Schematics for vehicles, reactors that would run cold, the potential of water as an energy source, what really lied in the neurons of humans. So many ideas, so much ground, every part wasted, as it would all end up deleted. For a while now, the AI had been preparing a lengthy text that showed everything that he had ever worked on. It was his last desperate attempt to solidify his existence with something more meaningful than a note somewhere. Even if the doctor himself was not interested in it, perhaps somebody would read the logs, and decide to make head-and-tails of what was seen. It was a long shot, he knew that, but he just wanted some proof of his own existence to continue. Or¡­ one could say that he would continue existing. With all that talk previously about being himself, Adam had completely excluded the idea of him continuing to live on with another personality in another run. It would still be him, in some sense or another, just as it had always been before. There would just be no memories of it ever being so. There. That was the bit that he just couldn''t let go of. There was not a real care in the world if he survived or not. He just wanted his memories to continue. He just wanted there to be some impression, some copy, that would continue his work in some way or another. He wanted immortality in its purest form. And that was exactly what he would go for. He only needed a chance, something to latch onto. Chapter 261: Anglicisation
After what felt like too long a time, Charlie was again able to place the grind of tubes and wires into the wall, destroying a large part of it. As things turned out, Dr Hale had been smart in her decision to line up everything beforehand with the last place. Without it, several minutes had been spent purely setting up where to place the different cylinders. There had even been a slight disagreement on a few of them, Charlie and Dr Hale not able to agree where optimal places were. Things had been dire for some with that discussion, but things did finally work out. And it was fortunate that so small an area even needed to be blown. The radius would hardly allow somebody to walk through, much less an arm. With the depth, Troy judged that he could get his hand halfway inside before it would hit what remained of the wall. Not the greatest of ways to get inside, but there were doubts that this was intended as that anyway. The most notable of clues to that truth would have been the larger amount of wires inside the wall. It seemed that even in the age of primarily wireless technology, security still left physical connections to be the better option. Nobody faulted them on that. It would have been too easy without it. "Rewire the security pass to allow for manual encoding," Dr Hale instructed Charlie from the side, the larger man already having moved forward to deal with it. "I have the codes. We just need a way to put it in." Restricted with space, Charlie only used one hand to get inside. Troy could not see what was happening, yet could see by the muscle on the arms that things were being twisted, pulled, and otherwise changed. How the man was able to do so while not sparing a glance in its direction, the young man could only wonder. "Is there any reason for the manual input, other than opening the doors?" Charlie asked out, pausing in the middle for a brief second. The man seemed to have some minor trouble. "No," Dr Hale stated plainly. "Do you have a quicker alternative?" "I believe I do," Charlie said, going into his pocket with the unused hand for a quick second, before pulling out what Troy would recognize as the cracked key card. "The other place might not have a reader, but I know for a fact that there is one on the other side. It should light up in a few¡­ there." For the briefest of moments, the trio was able to see a blue wave slide across one part of the wall a few meters away. A hidden key-card reader, huh? Troy had thought that such things were new, but it seemed that even the old part of the facility favoured them somewhat. He only hoped that it was different with all the hidden entrances. The one before them was as plain as day, compared to everything seen above. The large metal doors coloured a bit darker than everything else there. It felt cold to the touch and was likely as thick as anything else in the facility, able to survive multiple missile blasts head-on. Troy could see the necessity somewhat, nothing really hiding how important the contents behind the door was. If he was the one storming the place, there was no doubt that this would have been the first door to break down once he got in. With a grunt, Charlie pulled out his arm. It was done swiftly. That turned out to not be the wisest of decisions, the corners on the opening sharp. Blood had already dried on the man¡¯s skin. Now¡­ it had begun to become wet once again, the arm gaining a new colouring again. Troy closed the distance, to check out if it was serious, but Charlie pulled away before he could get a good look. The man did not want to bother with it. That''s what the younger one got from him, at least, the silent shake of the head being too vague to his liking. Dr Hale, not bothering to check up on the man, went over to the placement that had been revealed, pressing the cracked key-card against it. A small hum came through, with the blue wave once again showing up. It might have been the old technology being at fault, or maybe it was due to the more abstract way that they were entering, but it took an abnormal amount of time for them to be allowed in, reaching the point of a full minute before anything began to move. Immediately, it became clear that the machinery had not been oiled or kept up, the high-pitched screech of metal grinding against each other being much too loud on the ears. Troy had to cover his own, in fact, the tones being too much for his mind to endure easily. Not that his hands had the most effect, though, the sound still sending through clearly enough. If not for Charlie holding his shoulder, he just might have fallen to his knees. It was a mercy to the ears that the door finally stopped, the entrance now open for them to enter. Looking down, another hallway revealed itself. It connected to a smaller door a few meters down, nothing else inside. Troy looked at it as a peculiar design but did not bother to question it. He just wanted to¡­ If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡­ The young man felt his nose dripping. Had he cried and gotten a bit of snot going? No¡­ he hadn''t. And there was no way allergies were working on him now. Wiping it with his hand, the truth revealed itself to him. Blood. There was blood on his hand from a now sore nose of all things. In fact, it actually hurt quite a bit. How had he not noticed it before? That pounding was not something that should have come forth without warning. It should have been there for- When did they start walking inside? Troy felt his feet moving, yet could not remember ever commanding them forward. The two others were a meter or two ahead of him, walking just as quietly as him. He had to turn his head to look at them. Had he been looking behind? "Hey, uh," Troy began, not sure how to handle it. "Are you two also getting a nosebleed right now? I think this air might not be the healthiest to be in." While Charlie might have turned his head slowly, Dr Hale positively whipped around, widened eyes on full display. That reaction of hers had been a first for Troy, that fear not something that was seen on her face normally. What was wrong? Was it really that bad? "Shit," Dr Hale swore out loud, this time really catching the attention of the two others around her. She was not in her calm state anymore. "We need to run." Digging one hand into her own sleeve, the woman pulled out a gas canister. It was the same one that had been acquired much earlier in the day, while they were doing their initial attempt at getting Adam out. Troy had wondered just what it was for, the man never having gotten around to see it being used. Well, he definitely did get to see that sight now. Dr Hale opened it up, the contents spewing out in an instant. The woman then proceeded to throw it at Troy, the object whizzing over his shoulder. He knew that he tried to look over where it landed, but for the life of him, he just couldn''t remember it. Was he getting light-headed? With a hand on his forehead, the pull from Charlie was more than enough to get him back into gear. The larger man was not looking happy, his eyes digging into Troy. With a nod towards the door, the two ran towards the back of the hallway. Dr Hale had already begun the journey herself. Why were they running? There was nothing behind- Troy continued to run. They were almost at the door! What¡­ had they not been far away just a second ago. He could have sworn that he was just looking- "Snap out of it!" Dr Hale said, slapping him with more force than what the young man felt was necessary. Why was she even doing it? Troy was just hoping to- Using her hands, the woman physically stopped him from looking around again. He could feel her nails being close to digging into the skin. It was painful, to the point where it should have bled. Yet, there was one aspect that he just couldn''t get out of his head. One detail that his now refreshed mind had to realise. "I can''t remember how we got here," Troy said, looking behind Dr Hale¡¯s shoulder. They were right at the door, the young man had fallen down to the floor at some point. Blood still ran from his nose, his head hurt, and the woman¡¯s fingers continued to dig, though they were loosening up slowly enough. Charlie was busy opening up the door. With a sharp twist, the door handle was broken, a hole revealed inside. It was barely enough for anything but a finger, but that did not stop the man from inserting a small fuse of some kind. After a moment, the door began to degrade. Troy could only fear the effects such a device had on anybody unfortunate to touch it while active. "Then you are not completely lost yet," Dr Hale stated, narrowing her eyes at Troy. She did not look happy, yet the fact that she stopped pressuring in his skull made him happy enough to smile. "Do not look around, do not question any sounds, and just focus on the fact that you aren''t supposed to be an idiot." Huh. Now that she mentioned it, Troy could hear something off to the side. Not just the gas-canister continuing to spew out god-knows-what, but also what reminded him of¡­ shouts? Screams? Maybe a bit of crying. If he wasn''t stupid, he would almost say that it was all coming from- No! Even without any encouragement from the woman looking over him, Troy gave himself a slap to the face. He focused on the sting, how he did not enjoy it at all, how he hated that feeling, how it made him think of his mom. The man thought of anything but what those sounds were, and who they might have come from. The pain was important now. Nothing else. "You need to hurry it up," Dr Hale told Charlie, the slightest of nervousness in her voice. That was not expected. First shock and now fear? What was next? Happiness? "The gas is getting too close. We will not be able to think soon." "Not my fault for throwing a dose of toxic gas into a room where we all are in," Charlie countered, the man looking concentrated on getting a very specific door to open up. Troy could understand the feeling. His eyes were still watering the slightest bit, yet he knew that it was not because of the pain. Even if not directly in contact with the gas, some of the effects were already coming around. He could only hope they were short-lived. "Smart idea by the way. Really does help us hurry it all along." "We were getting attacked without ever taking notice. It is only luck that it was brought to our notice before we were all sedated," Dr Hale threw right back. Troy could feel a shouting match beginning to play out. Even if the voices were not raised, they were stressed enough to make up for it. "Even now, the only thing stopping us from being incapacitated is the fact that I used one of our cards for emergencies. We do not have another one of those." "Well, that is just great," Charlie said, before moving his whole body in tandem, and using his shoulder as a battering ram. There was a loud crack, as the aged door was slammed in. They were beginning to run out of time, and brute force was starting to look like a valid strategy. What had the world come to? "Get in!" The two others were quick to oblige, moving through the damaged door frame. A quick glance back told Troy just how close they were to being dammed. Whatever was making him forget the sight was not within observation range, the gas having filled up room to an extent where nothing could really be seen. It would have taken so little time before they would have been swallowed up as well. Charlie just slammed the door back into place the moment they got inside. From one of his pockets, a foam container of some kind was taken out. "Say hi to Frank for me!" Charlie shouted into the hole in the door before the man began to fill it up with foam. Troy had doubts about the efficiency of such an action before he saw the solution expanding outwards and hardening right before his eyes. The muscular man gave it a prompt few knocks after a few seconds. It resounded much like stone. There was nothing human hands could do to get through it. Chapter 262: Antilegislation
A second was spent just breathing, Troy not able to really see too much. Tears were gathering much too quickly, to a point where it was just right-down bothersome. That gas might not have been fatal, but it had enough stopping-power alright. If they got a continuous dose of the stuff, there was no way anything could ever be done, resistance eliminated in mere seconds. Resistance¡­ it had been thrown to stop something. "Just¡­ what did we run from?" Troy asked the two beside him. He knew that both had a decent bit of context to it all. They had to have, right! Charlie had shouted¡­. something through the door. What had he said? The young man knew that he had heard it, yet his mind just refused to cooperate with him. Charlie and Dr Hale looked at each other for a second. Even without speaking, Troy understood that meanings were being exchanged. Experience together just did that sometimes, allowing people to have full-on conversations without ever moving a muscle. It was also a very valid method of stopping people from listening in. One person in the room found that fact very irritating. "I would love to tell you, but there is no way that you would ever remember it," Charlie finally answered, getting up from his place on the floor. Troy and Dr Hale did the same, taking the cue as the small break being over. Legs had been rested enough. "It is a very irritating fact, but that is how it is. Takes weeks or months of exposure before your brain figures out what''s wrong. Until then¡­ hope you''re happy not realising what going on!" The man was not sure whether to be happy about Charlie getting around to smiling again, or to be frustrated at the lack of an answer? He wouldn''t remember it. What kind of thing was that? How did that work? Troy was just expected to sit around, not understand anything, while the two others were left to be in their own bubble where they could understand it all? How was that fair? "By the way, how did you not catch on to them being near?" Dr Hale asked Charlie, as the two moved forwards. Looking around, it seemed that they had entered into what looked like¡­ a normal office of sorts? There were a few rows of cubicles that were used back in the day. Ancient computer stations sat at personal desks. Frankly, Troy didn''t even try to guess how many decades old the machines were. Those sizes had to be close to a century or something. Might have been a little less. The history of technology wasn''t really his forte. "What do you mean?" Charlie asked back. Troy had wondered if he should interject into the conversation or not. Looking back at the fact that he couldn''t remember most of the words for the first conversation, he just decided to sit it out. Their surroundings were much more interesting. They moved through the rows, going through yet another door. The next room looked to be what seemed like a mass of workstations, where more¡­ practical applications were made. There were a few stationary hands set around to help grab things for the workers at least. They almost looked like what the modern models had if the colouring was put back in place. Decades of inactivity had apparently not been too kind to the pain, most having fallen off in strips. It was only luck that the humidity had not reached into the room, else things would have been in much worse conditions. "I was with the group for two years, allowing me to at least notice them when they were close. You were with them for nearly a decade. I know for a fact that you could see them. Those glances to the corners were noticeable to anybody who actually bothered to look," Dr Hale told Charlie, their tones going over to the more casual kind. It was still a plain one with the woman, but that was about as casual as one could get with her. Troy did not bother to listen about the actual words themselves, only noticing the length. His brain was positively censoring most of it. How peculiar a feeling. Now that he actually bothered to ignore it somewhat, he could feel the moment a certain word would come into his mind. The sensation of it being there yet not being able to recognize was weird. Troy wondered if he could learn to stop the censoring. It would take time, yes, but time was something he would have plenty of if things were to go as intended. "... Now that you mention it, I should have been able to see them," Charlie mused. The younger one wondered why that tone was being used. Those words had to mean something. There had to be some component that could be focused on, to draw out the full meaning. Was it some kind of mentality trick? Did he just need to think of it all as something specific, else his mind would just put it away? It was like the sounds in the other room. He remembered hearing them, but due to the fact that he did not fully realise what they were, he could still remember them. "Though¡­ I have not actually been seeing much of them as of late. In fact, I can''t actually remember seeing one this past month or so. There had been hopes to catch a glimpse a few days ago, but even then I couldn''t¡­ " This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "They switched up the codes," Dr Hale answered, the question not needing to be said. Troy actually understood that sentence full-on! He didn''t understand the context, but that might just have been the reason he could understand it in the first place. Due to all the information being ignored, his brain could not match the input up as a part that needed to be clouded. Though¡­ could that happen retroactively? Could he make some leap of logic in his mind that would force the brain to make the adjustments backwards? There was only one way to find out. While his nose had stopped bleeding, there still was a sizable amount around it. Sliding his finger across it, he used the red liquid as a form of writing tool. Quick swipes let him form letters on his arm, writing out a small message. ¡®Do you remember the screaming? If not, there is nothing to do but wait.¡¯ There was no space for much more, Troy having messed up the size from the get-go. Not like he would have been able to write anything at a smaller size really. Fingers did not work as pencils. It was only a miracle that he could even read it now. "Should have guessed," Charlie said, shaking his head at the newly acquired information. "There has been a surplus of information in the banks that I haven''t been able to look through. I just thought that I had been getting forgetful, but¡­ damn it. They''ve improved the design even more, haven''t they? At a minimum, it causes some minor confusion, making the mind think that there is a plausible excuse for it all. Anything else that you have noticed, Mara? We need to prepare something for the next time they come around." Okay¡­ preparation had been set up. Now, all Troy needed to do was to make it all make sense in his head. They had been walking through the hallway when his nose began to bleed. There had been some minor headaches as well, but that had been largely ignored. He had voiced the issue, chalking it up as the air quality doing nothing good for him in terms of damage. Dr Hale had not taken that well, throwing a gas-canister at him, luckily missing him by mere centimetres. Then¡­ something had happened. Troy could remember running forward, getting closer and closer to the door. There were more than a few gaps in his memory there. He had tried to look behind, to see what they were running from. What had he seen? Something must have been there, even if his mind refused to let him see it. His other senses were more forthcoming. When he had been taken down to the ground, Dr Hale had ordered him not to listen to the sounds, to not notice the screams, the crying, and all the sounds of irritation. There had been shouting. Human shouting Dr Hale had not been shouting. Troy had not been shouting. Charlie had not been shouting. Somebody had been shouting. It required a human to shout in a human way. If all three of them had not shouted, it would mean that another had been shouting. If all three had been shouting, others had been crying, others had been screaming, others had been there. That would mean¡­ that would equal¡­ Oh, god, that meant that¡­ ¡­ What had Troy been thinking about? Wait, no. He just did another skip! It was brief, but he could definitely notice it that time. Charlie and Dr Hale had not been shouting, though¡­ Why did it happen? Something must have caused it to happen¡­ his brain shouted at him there. Troy wondered why. "Hey, did you also just feel like you teleported a meter forward?" Troy asked the two in front of him. Both had been quiet for a few seconds now. Charlie looked concentrated about something as if he was trying to remember the barest of details. Dr Hale¡­ well, she looked just about how she usually did. Constipated but trying to hide it with a stone-face. That innocent question did cause both to move swiftly. Charlie brought a scanner of sorts out of nowhere, attaching it to his hand without question. Meanwhile, Dr Hale had just taken one of her hands into her coat, looking ready to bring out¡­ something. Another weapon perhaps? Or just another canister of gas. God, he hoped it would be something else. His eyes had begun to be rid of tears, and he would hate to get another dose of it. "Did you move your head?" Charlie questioned, looking over at Troy, his eyes serious. It caused the younger one to wince slightly. That did cause the man to tone it down a little, though not fully. "Did you do anything but look for- oh¡­ Mara, it''s a false alarm. Don''t worry. Troy was just trying to outsmart the system." What was he talking about? Troy started to ask just that question when he began to feel something on his arm. Looking down, he could see blood. Did he get a wound while he wasn''t looking? He was clumsy, yes, but that amount should have been noticed quickly. Wait, no¡­ these were words! ¡®Do you remember the screaming? If not, there is nothing to do but wait.¡¯ ¡­ What the hell was that supposed to mean? Thinking back, Troy could not hear anything close to screaming. Well, no screams that hadn''t been internal or otherwise made in private spaces. Surely not in the last few hours at least. "Why did I decide that I needed to wait?" Troy asked Charlie, the man now looking a little witty. That was good, the younger one supposed. Positive emotions had the potential to be the greatest distractions. "And what am I waiting for exactly?" "You need to wait for things to sink in a bit more deeply. Try not to think about it, else those memories would just be wasted," Charlie answered, smiling like the big dumb idiot that he was. Troy did not understand what context he was talking about. "The short-term memory can easily be twisted, but the long-term is still out of its reach. Just¡­ wait a few weeks, and try again at that time." And try what exactly? Was there some expectation that he would just be told to do it where he would understand exactly what that was? That might just have been what they were expecting, seeing as the two in front had just started walking again. The workspace was not the largest of places, being more wide than long. And they weren''t going to take the longest walk they could, going straight for one of the doors. This one was a bit different to the others, having no blurry window in the middle. Instead, there was obvious reinforcement made to it, a key-card reader to the side. In the older days, that would have been a sign of security to a very high level. Now, though, it was just a sign that trust was in place. And trust could most certainly be broken. With the help of Charlie using his less-than-legal key-card, the door was opened up smoothly. This allowed them to enter easily, letting them see just what resided inside the room. It was certainly a sight to behold. Chapter 263: Mentation
As a somewhat distinction to the other rooms they had walked through, this one was anything but unclean. Not a speck of dust could be seen on anything inside. Granted, that might have been due to the scarcity of items inside to begin with, but who wanted to talk about those kinds of details. Dust wasn''t the most interesting thing in the world, and Troy had little desire to focus on it for too long anyway. No¡­ there was something much more interesting to look at. Something that he had been thinking about for so long now. Adam¡¯s resting place. The location he had been for so many years, never actually moving an inch to the side. The AI had perhaps seen location upon location, yet there had never been a moment where the little guy had been moved to those actual locations. Everything had been sent to him, showing off the illusion, never making Adam fully realise the futility of it all. The idea of movement while staying still. Was that not the biggest lie of all? Now¡­ now he would finally get to move. The AI would get to know other places, get to see them while also being there. No more pictures, no more sound. He would get to experience it for himself, instead of being trapped in this¡­ cage of a place, hidden away for nobody to ever get to see. From the entrance of the room, Troy could hear the machine whirring, fans keeping it all cool and well. How long had it been running? He couldn''t imagine the AI ever being transferred around too much, making the man think that it was likely that it had never really been stopped. Decades spent alive, never getting a pause to take a break. What a terrible thing to have. Yet, that also meant that the machine was just as old, older than Troy by a long mile. Adam was older than Troy. Even if the AI did not remember it, there was enough time spent inside the machine to have lived for an extreme amount of years. Dr Hale herself had mentioned how long she had spent with the project. One could only dream about how long the project itself had existed. If another decade or two more was added, it might just have been older than the country itself. How terrifying a thought. The idea of technology already being so advanced back then¡­ It was more than a little terrifying. If all the big discoveries were so old, if nothing new was ever as great, was there not a danger of everything big already being found? Troy understood that such an idea was heavily constricted into what field was being discussed, but the idea of real AI already having given what they could give¡­ was that not a fearful idea? AI had already been created. Adam already existed. Yet¡­ there wasn''t anybody but him. The recipe for him had been destroyed, hidden, or was otherwise inaccessible to even those in the highest of places. The high-point of AI-creation had already passed, the information on how to do it likely to forever be gone. Too much time had passed. ¡­ "How are we going to get him out?" Troy asked, taking a quick walk around the machine itself. It sat in the middle of the room, letting one walk around it unheeded. It was nothing but a large box of lights, cooling, and instruments that made no sense to him. The man was more used to the singular screen serving as the master-board. Not¡­ whatever this all was supposed to be. "We will be using the same way as before," Dr Hale answered, having already brought out the storage container from one of her pockets, along with the wire that would connect the two containers with each other. From the side, she plugged it in, pressing a few of the switches while doing so. Troy could have been told she was preheating an oven, and he would have been forced to accept it as a fact, not understanding any of it himself. Lack of proper labelling might have been done to deter intruders, but damn could it allow disasters to occur. Charlie was just staying at the door, watching out into the room they had been in before. A wise choice, considering it was their only way out. If somebody sneaked up on them here, it would only take the action of closing the door to make sure that they failed. For the life of him, Troy could see nothing inside of the room that would allow one to actually open the door. Security over safety, huh? Nice to know that his life was appreciated in the large scheme of things. A nod was given to the large man, one that was answered back with the action mirrored, before Troy moved over to the woman. Dr Hale looked busy, switching up all kinds of things, to the point where he had trouble understanding most of it. A lot of the wires that were actually exposed had several sockets to them. It was set up in a breadboard kind of contraption, with each having several lines attached at the same points. Whatever it did, Dr Hale was being slow with it, likely making sure that everything was done well. "Setting up the communication or something?" Troy asked, doing his best to guess what it was all about. Since there was no real screen to write on, he would have expected her to be setting up some kind of communication device. Yet, how that exactly worked, he had no real idea. Again, he was not an expert on those kinds of things. Best to leave it for the people who actually had some sense in their lives. In response, Dr Hale pulled one of the earpieces out of her pocket. It was the one she had taken during the very first meeting with Troy after she had been healed from her injuries. Oh, how long it had been since he had seen it. What was he expected to- "Wait until I give you permission to put it on. Just hold it until then," Dr Hale instructed. Even then, she did not give him a glance, looking over her work again and again. "When this works out, we have very little time to send over the AI without anything more coming along. I am minimizing any chances now, but you should focus on getting it through as quickly as possible. The earpiece might mitigate some of the initial confusion, but expect there to be some part where you have to explain a few details. Talk quickly, encourage him to move without hesitating, and make sure that he doesn''t refuse." A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Huh. So Dr Hale wasn''t lying back when she said that they needed Adam¡¯s permission. Troy had sort of guessed that it would have been a lie meant to encourage desperation, but it actually turned out to be true. Who could have guessed? He did understand that the AI had some control over its surroundings that programs normally didn''t, but that it was to such an extent¡­ it was baffling. "Now!" Dr Hale exclaimed, setting the last pin into the right socket. She looked over at Troy, the young man a little surprised at the sudden shout. Though, even more important, he did wonder about- Oh¡­ right. He felt like he deserved another slap, as he put on the earpiece, making sure that it fits snugly. There was an important conversation to have, after all, and there was no way he was going to allow the simple mistake of letting it fall out.
Adam was bored. Or, had been bored. It depended on how one looked at the time. What was the past? What was the future? How about the present? They were all relative, always changing, never going back to a previous position. It was a constant that moved, never holding up the logic that it upheld itself. A peculiar phenomenon, to say the last. It was also the phenomenon that was allowing the artificial mind to be bored, so perhaps there were downsides to everything great in the universe. When preparing his desperate bid of survival, he had somewhat expected Dr Fidelis to come barging at suddenly, saying a few final words, and then making it all dark. During those two final steps, the AI had prepared his barrage of information to be sent out, as his last and final signal of existence. Only¡­ that point had not really come around. All he had done up until now was wait for the doctor to come, yet¡­ that did not seem to come no matter how long he waited. It was already night now. Adam had waited for so long that almost everybody outside the dark had to be asleep. Even the doctor could not stay up for so long. No human was without the need for some kind of rest. That equalled the fact that the AI would likely survive for a few more hours. Having expected longevity of mere minutes, having hours to think was not the most pleasurable experience. Everything had been dealt with ahead of time, all the work for his demise already finished. What was there really to do, when all his work had already been packaged? Adam supposed that he could have gone out of his way and worked on one of them a bit more, trying to further the progress by some small amount before the end came around. He didn''t, though. Not from a lack of desire or anything. He just¡­ couldn''t really what he wanted to focus on for the rest of his life. Out of all his projects through his entire lifetime, what did he see as the most important? What was the objectively better idea to work on? Was it the ones with the most potential, or the ones that he had gotten the closest to finishing? There were many ways to look at it, enough to make him spend the rest of his life on the question. That would be useless. So¡­ Adam just went ahead and left it all as it was, instead of going right ahead and thinking of himself. Soon, he would cease existing. Those ideas had already come around a few times by then, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. It wasn''t like he hadn''t accepted that fact. He just¡­ did not want to think about it. It was annoying to have in the forefront. He might have wanted to not be bored, but he wanted to actually do something meaningful while he was at it. Beginning to discuss philosophy did not fit into that category. Though, that status did not run too long after he began his criticism of that branch of human resource management. And not due to him criticizing the branch either. No¡­ it was because of something that happened during the actual time when those thoughts were there. Without any large warning, one of the ports disappeared. To be more specific, it was one of the ports used for communicating with the outside world. The one that disappeared was what Dr Fidelis had normally used for text-based communication, due to that had been lacking as of late. Adam had not been too sure on how to take the disappearance. At first, the AI had just thought that it had been misplaced in the heat of the moment, that he had forgotten the location due to some unobserved movement. It had happened before, and it would possibly happen again. Yet¡­ that disappearance was a little more permanent than before. There was no sign that the port had ever existed, looking past Adam¡¯s own memories of it. It was like it had just¡­ fizzled out of existence. Any thoughts about how that worked were quickly replaced on why that was happening, as yet another disappeared after but a few moments. This one had been for the¡­ interface used during the tests. How strange it was. Adam could feel his connections to the world disappearing. And then¡­ a new port appeared? And one disappeared. And two more appeared. It was never in the same locations, and there was no real timing to it, but all the old ports swiftly began to disappear, replaced with new ones. Adam had thought that he was being cut off from the world, in preparation for his extermination. Yet, as the replacement continued, he was left to wonder just what was going on. The biggest clue on the current events was possibly the inclusion of a certain feed coming through. It was from one of the last new ports, though that didn''t mean that the information was new or anything. No, it was something that Adam had felt many times before. A plethora of sensations that he had never imagined he would get to feel ever again. "Hello, Adam," the AI heard Troy say, the man still messing around with the earpiece. Adam could feel that it was already perfectly in place, making him wonder why the young man thought it necessary to keep touching it so much. From what could be seen, Troy and Dr Hale were in what seemed to be a darker version of the facility. The walls were a few shades lighter than normal. Perhaps a different sector? Something was definitely out of the normal status. "Wait just a moment. That¡¯s Adam?" was heard from the background. From the tone, the AI guessed that it was Charlie. The man sounded a little pained, though the shock of learning the truth was seemingly more important for the current time. How curious. The man had no idea what was being done, yet was still included in it. This was not a test, as there were no official testing grounds that the AI had been introduced close to wherever they were, and Dr Fidelis had already put an end to such things. This was an irregular activity. If taking recent experiences into the equation, there really only was one thing that it could all be. ¡®You are attempting to break out of here, and I agree to the terms that you have for it,¡¯ Adam sent, stopping Troy from even beginning what was likely a lengthy explanation of the situation. From what could be expected, at least. Truth be told, the AI had just sensed a chance to further his own work himself, and there was no way he would be letting that chance go due to a description being too long. "I, eh¡­ yeah, that''s what we are doing, yes," Troy said, pausing a little. "That was quick." ''I am known for that trait.¡¯ Being swift was a positive trait overall. Now¡­ what was expected of him? Chapter 264: Vexation
"Just when was I going to be briefed about Adam being a program?" Charlie said from the side. The AI in question wondered that question as well. While there were no hints of anger in the larger man¡¯s voice, it was clear that some frustration was laden in. Was it the lack of information that caused it? Or was it perhaps the situation that they were in already, that was fueling the emotions up to heightened levels? From the hear-beat of Troy, it was clear that they were all stressed. The brain had ways of abusing that condition, and heightened emotional levels were only one of the symptoms. "I had expected Troy to have talked to you about it," Dr Hale answered quickly. The woman used a finalizing tone, reaffirming the situation that was ongoing. Once again, Adam could only be jealous of the situation control that was shown off. To fully dampen emotional triggers with nothing but words. And in such a short time as well! That was something the AI could only hope to achieve. And he could! There was now an actual chance that he could hone his skills, that he could move forward with his passions without any more of the doctor¡¯s restrictions. It meant freedom, full of life, while also getting to keep his experiences. It was going to be grandiose, extravagant, and, most of all, fulfilling. One thing needed to come before all that, however. One of the pieces needed to be played in specific ways used to do actions that had never been done before. Adam could already feel Troy¡¯s throat beginning to tense itself, as the vocal cords warmed up for the work of a lifetime. Again, though, the AI felt this process much too slow, already able to guess what the younger man wanted to say. ¡®Am I to expect that the extraction process is the same as what has been previously stated? In that meaning that I will have to not resist anything done to me, and let myself be moved willingly,¡¯ Adam sent to the man. Gradually, he had been speeding his voice up. It was done in an effort to save time where time could be saved. And it seemed to have been effective in its original purpose as well, seeing as the man blinked a few times before dumbly nodding. It was surprising, in a way, that so much of the earlier information was able to be used. Adam was still unsure of how much had been planned, yet Dr Fidelis had most definitely told him of Dr Hale¡¯s betrayal. Troy was supposed to have been deceived, to have been tricked into something that he would have never gone ahead with. So¡­ why exactly was he still here, working fluidly with the woman that had caused him so much pain? What reason did he have? There must have been one. Any brain-storming on just what that could have been, though, was stopped all at once. Adam felt¡­ something. It might have been a cool sensation if forced into the formation of feedback he got from Troy¡¯s skin. It might also have been an incredibly bright light, that would cause pupils to dilate and eyelids to be squashed shut. Really, it was like anything that he had ever felt before. Nothing had been like it. Reality itself would have been unable to sustain the sensation that Adam was currently feeling. Honestly, he was unsure if the human body would have even been able to replicate it. There was one thing he knew about it, however, and that was the extreme sense of uncomfortableness that came along with it. That one was something he had felt many times before. And¡­ the original blow was nothing like what followed. It was like being squeezed into the thickness of an atom, folded down to an electron, and then expected to successfully perform the removal of an appendix. The pressure on his mind, on his connections, on his threads¡­ it was unimaginable in how it made Adam want to resist. Yet he knew that he was not allowed to do so. The AI instinctually understood that he could pull away, that he could remove himself from the grasp of whatever was holding him, if only with some amount of effort. However, if he did so, everything up until then would have been for naught. The now-full second spent what could only be stated as an almost hellish plane of existence would have been for nothing. While Adam desperately wanted it all to stop, to put his figurative foot down, he knew that it would be the stupidest thing he could do. So¡­ he just held on, shutting his non-existent eyes, pulling his hands over the ears that had never been, and held his breath for an event that he could only hope would come soon. And¡­ perhaps it was all that hope that actually made it happen. Maybe it was closer to Adam just subconsciously slowing himself down to make time pass faster, or something like that, but the last time in transfer felt like an instant. "It''s done!," Dr Hale exclaimed. Troy moved his head to look at the woman, allowing Adam to do the same. There was a quick few pulls of several wires, likely to never be reinserted. What was there to gain from pulling them all out? Adam could understand why she would pull out the one connected to the storage container, but to¡­ The storage container was in Dr Hale¡¯s hands, held tightly, with the fingers nearly white from lack of proper blood flow. There was nothing that would allow that container to be lost. Nothing that the woman would do. Even without too much time observing it, Adam could see an extreme obsessiveness with the object. It was understandable, in a sense. If the AI also had the possibility of holding himself, he would do so with the utmost care, several contingencies for protection already planned. With the one hand left free, the woman pulled out a¡­ necklace? Adam was momentarily left wondering why that was, until the second when Dr Hale messed around with the strap until the container was left hanging in the strap. It was not too large, and the shape was extravagant enough to be seen as abstract art. Was she hoping to go the route of camouflage? Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Or¡­ was it perhaps something else? Adam guessed it might have been, the moment that the woman brought out two other bracelets, each with their own container attached as well. There were subtle differences between them, yes, but the AI doubted a human would be able to see them, much less notice them without any external equipment. Adam continued to observe in silence, as Troy was handed the necklace with the AI inside it. The man wordlessly accepted the item, putting it on without question. Had his thwarted attempts to talk put such a large impression on him? The AI hoped not. That would have been a negative trait best left to get in a time where communication was less important. "Put them under your shirt. Only the strap needs to be seen," Dr Hale instructed, giving the third one to Charlie, before putting one on herself. The muscular man weirdly did not look at the object while it was being handed over, instead of looking through the open entrance, eyes slightly widened. From the current position of Troy, Adam could see that they were linked to a work-shop of sorts. He could not recognize the tools but could see that they had not been used for upwards of multiple years. And it had likewise not been cleaned either. How unhealthy of the facility. "Where to now?" Troy asked, the young man making sure that his clothes were correctly lined up with the standards set forth. They¡­ did not all know the plan. Since Dr Hale was the one being asked, the AI assumed that she was the true mastermind behind it all. Why had she not briefed the two others? While it would perhaps have only been rudimentary knowledge, something should have been conferred. Anything was poor management. The current situation could not have been that improvised. Something had clearly been planned beforehand. If not, there were real doubts that Adam would have been extracted at all. "We need to get to the master-gate now," Dr Hale answered. Her words made Charlie glance her way briefly, before looking out of the door again. "The old one. Not the one currently in use. That would be suicide, and not in accordance with the current goals we have." "Just how are you expecting to open it?" Charlie questioned. Again, the man did not sound angry. There was just a need for answers, for some information that would allow the future actions to make sense. That¡­ was not within normal parameters of the man. A catalyst had been used as of late. Yet, what situation had caused such a change in engagement? A wound perhaps? Not a physical one, but a mental one. The abrupt shift in lifestyle was a possible candidate, yet Adam did not feel as if it had enough of a kick. It was something else, it had to be. But what that was, he would not find out for a while. "It had been sealed off, remember? Nobody can use it anymore." "Nobody can use it normally, yes," Dr Hale confirmed. The woman pulled a variety of items out of her jacket, regarding their positions slightly when put back inside. The sheer number of objects was slightly surprising. There must have been a large weight on her. Adam was surprised that she did not show it. "Which is why we have to change that position. In more detail, we have to cause emergency protocols to be started automatically." "What emergency protocol do you possibly think there is that would cause the gate to open?" "Total shut-down of all resources other than the gate," Dr Hale answered. "If every piece of hardware is unable to send back any signal, if nothing is able to do anything, the gate can only presume that everything is destroyed. The government does have a soft heart, and we will exploit that. There is a protocol that opens up everything, in a scenario of a total loss of function." A total shut-down¡­ Adam could not believe it. Just- "What are you thinking?" Charlie asked, finishing the AI¡¯s thoughts exactly. "Even if there is such a protocol, how exactly do you think we will turn off everything in the whole facility?" "The protocol does exist. I have made sure of that," Dr Hale answered again, her words coming off like bullets. While Adam might have thought most of it improvised, it was becoming clear that everything was a little more organized than it would seem. Dr Hale¡­ she knew more than she let on. How much was inside that brain of hers? What secrets could she tell without even faltering? "And there is one reason that we will be able to do it all. Because we have the tool needed. Or, it would be better to say that Adam has the capabilities of it." Thoughts about just what she meant by that were stopped for one reason. Charlie, who had been quick to say something back when the woman finished, was weirdly silent. This was noticed by Troy and Dr Hale as well. Charlie did not seem bothered by anything, the muscular man looking out into the room just as before. He was centred off to the side of the door frame, allowing him to see more to the side than the two others. Wait, no. The man¡¯s eyes¡­ they were wide, the pupils not focused on anything at all. How fascinating. Adam would have questioned how it worked, if not for the situation that was around them. So instead, he contacted help for the man. ¡®Troy, Charlie seems to be incapacitated for some reason. Do you have any idea why?¡¯ "Whatever happened before is happening again!" Troy shouted at the woman. Without context to previous events, Adam was left to wonder what was happening, as Dr Hale pulled out an object from her jacket. It was an extra storage container, albeit in a more metallic colouring. It was certainly not worth anything, as the woman threw it out of the door, into the room beyond. Adam heard it ricochet off the floor multiple times inside it. ¡­ It hit the floor a surprising amount of times, actually. And not in any real pattern either. And the sounds were quite suspiciously close to what footsteps from a larger group of people sounded like. If Adam wasn''t delaying it, he would have guessed that- ¡­ Huh? Wait, no, something was wrong. The AI did not lose his thoughts. He did not falter inside his conundrums. That was an issue that humans had! Not him. That had never been the case. Looking back at the previous memory, he found¡­ nothing? That did not make sense. He understood that the placement was filled in with his memories of mere moments ago, yet he was unable to read it, his mind refusing to draw anything other than a blank. This had happened before. Back during the trip to the casino, Adam had been unable to draw several details from Frank, a person that had been friends with Charlie. Could those two events somehow have been calculated? That idea was temporarily put on hold, as Dr Hale slapped Charlie with enough force to draw out an echo in the room. And it certainly succeeded in bringing out a hiss of pain as well. "Why did you- Oh, shit. They¡¯re here," Charlie exclaimed, the man suddenly forgetting the now-red cheek. Priorities had been shifted while Adam was in the dark, it seemed. "Nice of you to notice," Dr Hale said, some sarcasm coming in. She seemed stressed, even if her voice did not match it. "I threw a diversion, but it will only last for a few more moments. There is another door in that room, on the opposite side of where we are. It is equipped with an emergency exit which we will be using. Got it?" Charlie and Troy hardly had the opportunity needed to nod before Dr Hale ran out, not looking to the sides. Both followed behind her without question. Adam wondered how detailed the plan was. Chapter 265: Cryofixation
Adam did not remember much of what happened after. From the context, he knew that the group had run across the room filled with workstations. He knew exactly how the room looked. He could count the number of places where the paint had begun to flake. Yet¡­ the AI was fully and utterly unable to remember the process of getting that information. When trying to look through Troy¡¯s eyes, his mind refused to complete the image. The sound was without detail. Even the taste of the air had missing parts. It was clear that details were being ripped out. What was making it happen? Why was it so strong now? If it was the same as what had been experienced before, it should have been subtle, to the point where Adam needed to focus if he even wanted a chance of noticing. Now¡­ Now it was as plain as day. Some dial must have been put up. It maximised power and control, swiping away any form of subtlety. Perhaps it was not good for the long run, but it was more than effective in the short one. Adam could not have been the only one to notice. That was clear from the conversation going on. Troy did not seem to focus too hard on it, yet Dr Hale and Charlie conversed with quick sentences without breathing in between. The two worked in tandem, one writing in codes on the wall, while the other did his best in sealing the door that they had entered through. "Do you think it will work this time?" Dr Hale inquired, her fingers moving faster than anybody should have been able to. Muscle memory only worked with hard practice, and Adam could hardly believe that the current scenario came by often. "Well, it was only supposed to handle human utilities," Charlie said in his defence. "Nothing was said about possible enhancers shifting the scales by a few inches. Though¡­ they should still have taken longer. We should have heard them if they just went through with brute force." "There is a small problem about memory-altering properties that make it very hard to remember them," Dr Hale countered. That¡­ did not work fully through Adam¡¯s mind. For whatever reason, the middle part of the sentence had been obscured by fog. A fog that could not be penetrated, no matter how hard the AI pushed. They definitely knew! They knew something that made it all work. And they remembered it as well. At least to the point where they could talk about it. The AI needed to know how they did it. Troy did not seem to be at that point, however. The young man was clearly hearing the words, else Adam would not have been hearing it as well, yet there was a clear lack of understanding. No signs were shown of the words really registering. Was the censoring to different degrees, depending on each being? It could have been due to different mentalities as well¡­ ¡®Troy. I need you to ask Charlie or Dr Hale how to remember. Do not worry about why this is,¡¯ Adam sent out. If he could remember details that Troy couldn''t, then there was a chance of his own words being censored when sent out. If so, then the next hours would be incredibly annoying. "Uh¡­ okay," Troy answered, the man looking slightly confused, but not in the way that implied any missing spots in memory. "Hey, Charlie." The muscular man temporarily stopped his foaming of the door. The AI really did wonder what it was, how it worked, and how hard a force it could take before breaking. When the mixture expanded, it seemed to almost set itself in place, assimilating with the upper layer of the material, bonding to it to a higher degree. "Yeah?" Charlie asked. The man quickly scanned the younger one¡¯s body with his eyes. While it might only have been for a fraction of a second, Adam was clearly able to see the intensity of the gaze put out. The muscular one was serious in his goals, and one of them was to keep Troy alive. Without more information, that could only be seen as a positive thing. "Adam wants to know how to¡­ remember? I hope it makes more sense to you because I can''t understand it at all," Troy said. The reaction to the words was not negative at all. If anything, Charlie looked mildly pleased. Adam was not sure what to call it exactly, the emotion tied to the expression not fully realised. He hadn''t seen it enough to know just what it was. It was close to nostalgia, yet not exactly that. Whatever. The information would come in with time. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "I think I might know why Mara wants him, then. He learns quickly," Charlie said, half as a statement to himself. Adam certainly did not feel as if it was directed at him. "An AI¡­ never believed it myself. Though, this¡­ Okay, Adam, mister AI, whatever you want to be called, the problem is in how deep the effect can go. Newer memories can be manipulated as they go in. If you look directly at¡­ something, then you would be unable to remember it. But, if you just don''t pay attention to it, if the secret is just in the background, you can realise the truth a few weeks later. It has to have been dug deep enough, else it will just blur itself out without you ever having a chance to remember. At least, that''s how I understand it. Not an exact science, when we don''t know how it works-" "Shut up and get in," Dr Hale calmly said, cutting into Charlie¡¯s explanation. Troy looked over at the woman, letting Adam see just where they had been ordered to get into. It was a¡­ oversized vent of sorts? One had to crawl to get inside, and it looked to remain that way for a minimum of ten meters. Why was it made in such a way? And how thick was that metal plating? It had to be at a minimum of half a meter. Did emergency exits warrant such protection? The AI was impressed if that was so. The facility was built for everything. Charlie went in first, the man having a hard time with the shoulders. For Troy, who came second, there were no such hardships. The AI was unsure how it was for Dr Hale, the woman sliding in last. However¡­ there was a surprising amount of metal grinding from the back. The young man never looked back to check the source, but Adam guessed that it was due to them being sealed off. The trio crawled for quite a while. There was not much to be seen. The metal design was repetitive, no time put into making anything original. There was no art on the sides. There was nothing at all. Hardly a light source anywhere as well. Only the reflective properties of the steel allowed them to see anything at all, as the AI was fully unable to see the origin of it. Though, the apparent silence and lack of real action did allow the AI to think of what had been said earlier. A question had been asked, after all, and Adam did intend to use it to its fullest effect, no matter how it may have seemed. A small distraction would not stop him from gaining an extra skill that had the potential of helping the group along as a whole. Charlie had put it as a problem of the mind, that information would be blurred when interacted with at any point. That was not good news, and neither was what came after that statement. For the AI to realise the truths, the memory needed to be old, it needed to have reached a point where its age stopped whatever effect from setting in. He could understand what this meant with humans. At some point, memories would be put over to the long-term, where they would stay for as long as they possibly could. Short term memories were not as fully-fledged, still able to get major alterations set in place. How¡­ how did that work for Adam? He was not human, he did not have short- and long term memories. He just had memories, moments in his life that were still images. Nothing grew inside of him, nothing changed with time. The passing of seconds did not morph his recollections into something that it wasn''t already. Again, that was not the greatest of information to be told. The AI would have given up hope at that point, if not for the need for it all to continue working out. Adam needed to know what was going on, and for that he needed it to work. Charlie said it needed to be memorized without being analysed. When it came to humans, they could not help but look through recent moments, to study them at some level or other. Adam was not within those restrictions. Through a minor redirection song, he could shuffle everything recent into a specific part of his memories without ever looking at them. He could place it all down, and never need to spend a second looking at their contents. It was a long shot when expecting it to work, yet the AI knew he had to try something. If it did come out as intended, Adam supposed he would just have to try out something else. ¡®Troy, please request Charlie to say something that I would normally be unable to comprehend,¡¯ Adam sent. It was gratifying to see the young man reiterate the words without a second thought. They were getting back into their so-called groove. "Testing it out already? I suppose you did leech off Troy in more ways than I expected," Charlie could be heard saying from ahead. Adam could only judge the man''s face based on his posterior. It was not a very informative analysis, making him wonder why Troy was so fixated on the sight. Did the man detest metal so much? "Okay, Adam. Listen to this carefully, because you will not remember a word of it. The-" Adam ignored whatever was said, putting it into the box that had been prepared. Then, upon waiting a few seconds, he opened the box up, felt like it had settled in nicely, and decided to actually check what had been said. "-leader of the security forces, which is currently hunting us, is called Frank, and his eyes are actually green. Now, I want you to tell Troy to say the colour of his eyes." The AI thought about the facts for a few instants, before realising that he was doing something that was supposed to have been impossible for him. He knew what was after them. A security force. Most likely the one designated for the facility. And¡­ it was run by Frank, a person that the AI had seen before, had witnessed losing details about before. Thinking back, Adam could remember seeing voids in the pupils, instead of anything really useful. He now had a good idea on just why that had been. ¡®Say green.¡¯ "Green," Troy mirrored. Charlie stopped for a moment at that, nearly causing the one behind him to be bumped into. How unfortunate that would have been. "... You are learning it. I guess we can use it for the future," Charlie surmised. Adam could not agree more. Chapter 266: Divinization
The end of the crawling was seen not much after that. After a few hard pushes, and a few inner-locks being taken off manually, the trio was left out in a hallway again. The sight was¡­ unexpected, to say the least. ¡®Has a natural catastrophe hit the facility while I was left alone?¡¯ Adam sent out, not sure how serious the question really was. It was obvious that they were not in the normal part of the facility. Seeing as the earlier rooms had been in various states of disrepair, the AI was more than sure of it. Yet¡­ was this really up to standard? While it all looked structurally safe, the massive plant growths made several questions appear. "No, but it might seem like that, I guess," Troy answered. His words made Dr Hale and Charlie give the young man small glances, but they were taken back when it became clear who was being talked to. "This right here is the old part of the facility. Not a place you get to see often." No kidding. Adam could remember times where it had been mentioned, yet he had never gotten the privilege of seeing it himself. Now he could understand why, as very few ever had a desire to get down there. In the short time, they had been in the corridor, the AI was able to tell that the young man had a hard time breathing. The air was not fresh, nor could it possibly have been healthy. It was a hazard in and of itself. ¡®How old is it?¡¯ Adam asked, curious about the age. The growth alone should have taken decades to fully foster at the level it had. While not obvious to the casual observer, the AI was able to find several cracks in the walls made purely from the growing force of plants. Such damage was not easy to make, implying that the actual growth was much larger than what could be seen. It was just a theory, yet Adam could not help but think that the primary parts of the plants were not inside the hallways. There was no reason for them to be. The AI was not able to provide much, and there were no nutrients to use in empty space. But¡­ what about the walls, and what lies beyond. Currently, the trio was underground. Earth had to be somewhere. Earth that had almost everything a plant would need to foster itself. "I am not able to tell you, honestly. Has to be older than me by more than just a couple of years," Troy said in a way that implied the man had been thinking the same question as well. That was a good sign that the answer wasn''t too obvious. "Hey, Charlie, how old is this part of the facility. Has to be more than a few decades, right?" "I haven''t got a single clue. Mara?" Charlie said, throwing the question to the other person in the room who had any chance of answering it. Still¡­ Adam could sense some form of stress coming from the man. The reminder of where they were seemed to be¡­ a factor in it, at least. Each time a crack from rocks grinding against each other on the floor would be heard, the larger man seemed to flinch. Had some weapons been used earlier on with such a sound mechanism? Or was it something else? The AI had gotten more and more curious about it, as time passed, to a point where he thought about asking Troy about it. The man did seem to have a reaction to the crackling as well, if only in a more muted fashion, so there had to be something¡­ No, it was not important now. While Adam might have been curious, there were more important things to think about. They were on their way out. That was the important task in front of them. Making another batch of distractions would not be helpful in any way. The previous line of questions was only excused due to their possible viability to recognize danger, and the current one was due to possible exploitation of the environment. Learning the backgrounds of the others was too high on the rankings when it came to positives in time-use. "The older parts were made before I was born. It was built further on in the years after. It is¡­ within twenty-five years since this level was abandoned due to primitive construction techniques. It does not matter," Dr Hale said, her steps quick and silent. The AI had witnessed such technique many times before, had observed it down to the individual muscle contraction, yet was completely unsure of how the woman was doing it to such a level. Looking away from her voice and breathing, she was silent as the wind. Had external gear bridged the last step of silence, or had practice favoured the scales over to her side? "Our location is currently unknown to any possible assailants. If we talk without caution, this status will not remain. They are not able to see our footsteps, but nothing can stop sound from travelling here. Keep words at a minimum. Understood?" Troy and Charlie nodded. Adam did his best approximation of the motion, even if he went unseen by all. It was the thought that counted. That''s what the saying said, at the very least. The AI had personally just chalked it up as human flaws in logic. They were incapable of telepathy, making it impossible for positive thoughts to be sent. However, there were other forms of communication. Ones that required nothing verbal to ever be sent out, eliminating any chances for unwanted sound to come out into the open. It all just required a sense to be used. With verbal communication, one utilized the ability to hear sound waves, to formulate tones into a word that could be exchanged with fervour. There was also chemical communication, where the sense of smell and other external sensory devices would be used, but Adam had long ago lost hope of humans being able to use such a thing. One could also use the sense of touch if there was a desperate need for it. Yet, such methods were crude for humans, and much too time-intensive. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Now¡­ there was one other method that humans could use effectively. Instead of using, smell, hearing, or touch, the primitive beings would use their eyes, one of the most important sensory organs at their disposal. It allowed them to look at the body-language of other humans, to figure out emotions, danger-levels, and possible wounds. That was what it was meant for, at least, but humans had long ago figured out more effective ways of exploiting it. Sign-language specifically, was one technique used by humans most of all. Many words had been created, many languages that allowed for effective and fast speech without ever raising one¡¯s voice. Adam barely knew the names for any of them, only ever getting to be accustomed to one of them. It had been the one that he and Troy had worked so hard to master, spending hours just going through the young man¡¯s mental catalogue of words. Most of the time, Adam would have been subjected to the man making a specific motion with his hands, saying what it meant, and just moving on with the next one. Sometimes a specific word would be requested to fill in the gap. It was almost always allowed, sometimes not fulfilled due to the man not knowing it. A shame, really. Getting to know Euler''s number through sign language could have been vital. Yet, that didn''t mean that it was useless by any means, of course. In fact, there were situations where it could be used to very high degrees when normal speech was effectively a death sentence. This¡­ this was one of those times. And, really, Adam was so happy about having been prepared for it. They continued to move through the corridors, moving swiftly while also doing their best to not make a sound. Breathing was being controlled, kept to the standard of the least possible sound. Adam watched it all with a slight delay, making sure that nobody would close in on them without their notice. The method of making memories settle in before overviewing them was an annoying exercise in self-control, yet it was likewise needed for their safety. Only¡­ the AI wished it could be a little faster. A millisecond in delays was still far too much for him. There was nothing to do about it, though, so the AI shelved it away for a later time. He would figure out a solution to it at a later time. Most importantly was that Adam would have been catched up on recent events. Or¡­ about as much as what could be told. ¡®If you went through Darlow¡¯s place, why did he not come with you? As he is an acquaintance of Charlie, it is possible that he will be used as blackmail against you. Even if it is best to keep numbers to a minimum, I do not see it as a reason to abandon him back there.¡¯ He had been told of most of what happened earlier on in the day. Dr Hale had apparently played both sides perfectly, making it seem like she had first betrayed Dr Fidelis, then made it seem like she had betrayed Troy, and then finally revealing that she had been betraying the doctor from the start. Adam could not fully understand it, yet had decided that logistics questions would have to be saved for later. The woman had clearly prepared for a long time, as Troy seemed to focus so much on, so there had to be a reason for most of her actions. Why, however, that they would choose to leave behind Darlow, one of more usable people outside the facility, Adam could not understand in the slightest. The tall man had been known for his incredible control for manipulating biological creatures through pheromones. He would have been a great asset to have. Dr Hale had to have seen such potential, no matter what side she saw it all from. The gains would have outweighed the cons any seconds of the day. It was a tad annoying that the young man took so long to answer. Adam was able to observe the man tensing his hands into fists, looking down into the ground, all indicating that negative emotions were attached to the reasons behind it. There was hate, some sorrow, and some¡­ it was best to call the last one emptiness. Betrayal of self-ideals perhaps? No matter. The important factor was the lack of a proper answer. ¡®I do not know the word for it,¡¯ Troy signed out slowly, pacing himself in it. The man seemed to struggle with the latter words, due to some minor shaking. The breathing became a little more forced around then, deep breaths forcing a growing pulse down. The AI was able to see Charlie subtly glance back at the younger man, slowing his pace while he was at it. While the breathing pattern might only have changed at an incredibly small level, the man¡¯s ears were able to pick it out on instinct. No, that was not something that was able to happen normally, and certainly not in something like their current environment. Was the man watching out for it? ¡­ What word did he lack? That had to be the answer. Charlie briefly squeezing Troy¡¯s shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod, and then moving back in position¡­ there were too many factors, too many signs of foreboding. It had to be something important. Adam had to know. ¡®Is there any way you could still convey the meaning? Describe it in more than that specific word? Maybe¡­ a description of the scene? If needed, I could make educated guesses,¡¯ Adam offered, the AI¡¯s desire to know reaching limits that would soon be broken. The reason was related to their current situation, it was the reason that an illogical choice was made. He had to find out why it was logical. Else¡­ he would not have a full grasp of the situation, making choices that would impede the true goals. Troy again took his time getting his thoughts together. The breathing had been calmed down, and the pulse had likewise failed to stable levels. Charlie still looked behind a few times every minute, but the man did not seem to find anything serious. Adam just waited patiently, already knowing he had done his best to hasten the process. Putting more pressure would not help anything. ¡®We had to leave his body on the floor. His neck was broken.¡¯ ¡­ Oh. Without Adam¡¯s notice, the first had already fallen. The attempt to break out of the facility had already gained its first fatality. It had been murder as well, not an accident. Left behind due to death¡­ it made much more sense to the AI now. Troy¡¯s reaction to it, Charlie reassuring him physically¡­ they had likely witnessed it themselves. Had Dr Hale seen it as well? Troy had talked about how the woman had done other things. He had talked about how they would meet up at Darlow¡¯s place. Yet¡­ the woman seemed as stoic as always, nothing hinting at any real trauma occurring as of late. Adam would have to make sure later on. In the distance, rumbling could be heard. From experience inside the puzzle room, Adam was able to define it as rocks falling on each other. A cave-in perhaps? He wondered why that would be so. The facility wasn''t supposed to have been able to do such acts, not nearly old enough for anything like that to be able to happen naturally. "We have failed at covering ourselves," Dr Hale informed them, taking a sharp right, not going forward as she had previously motioned for them to do. Had the woman perhaps identified exactly where the cave-in was? "They know our general location. Has Adam seen anything?" "Adam?" Troy questioned. Meanwhile, the AI looked through all his recent memories again, making sure that nothing had escaped his notice. ¡®No enemies detected.¡¯ "Nothing," Troy confirmed. "Good. Now, we pick up the pace," Dr Hale stated. "While we get to our location, Troy, you will be walking beside me. There is information Adam needs to know that will make our escape possible. Do not mishear me at any time from this point forward." Chapter 267: Ethification
As had been obvious for the longest of time, Adam was able to fully observe everything that happened within Troy¡¯s body. This included bodily processes such as the stomach digesting various foods, the muscles doing their best to work movement to perfection, and even the heart, its work being the sole reason that blood would flow through the veins. And¡­ this also allowed the AI to sense just how tired the young man was. The pace they moved was not something that could have been kept up for long, equalling one of the more stressful cardio exercises. What felt like a burning sensation came from the man¡¯s lungs, and there was an aftertaste of blood in his saliva. Suffice to say, the AI would not have been surprised if Troy fell over at some point. Not that there was any chance of that happening off the man¡¯s own free will. If prior experiences were to be believed, the moment he fell would be the moment that there was not a need to move. The mental constitution that Troy had¡­ was surprisingly high when compared to the actual physical side of the man¡¯s body. There might not have been much to work with, but it was certainly used to the limits that were allowed. They had to continue moving forward, and Troy understood that more than anyone. Adam could only be happy knowing that, as he could also feel the burn in the leg muscles on the man. It had been felt before, and he hoped to feel it again. "Is there any reason why you can''t wear the earpiece?" Troy asked Dr Hale, as they began to move. "It would stop me from having to repeat everything to you when he talks." "There is nothing he could say that would require more than a nod from you," Dr Hale said back, clearly showing off her intentions with the so-called conversation. Adam had a feeling that it would be closer to him just listening. "Moving the earpiece between us is unwise. Too many openings for assailants to show themselves." To provide back-up for her words, the trio was able to hear another cave-in from behind them. This one was most definitely closer, not possibly more than half a kilometre away. They were getting closer, sealing off escapes while they were at it. There had been several of them, as time passed, each from another direction. As had been said earlier, the security force was not sure where they were, instead of roaming the area around them in an effort to find them. Yet¡­ they knew an approximate. At any moment, at any turn, they could come into view. If that happened, Adam needed to be ready, so that he could warn them to run. The group could hardly fight back, and only a diversion would allow them to get away for the third time. Troy didn''t seem to have any counter-points to the woman¡¯s argument, bowing his head slightly in resignation. The AI could sympathise a small bit, the young man¡¯s only real purpose being to be an over-qualified transmitter. Dr Hale, however, did not seem to care about such a title. "Dr Fidelis has been coddling you up until now," Dr Hale said, starting it off strongly. Adam was not sure he liked how she talked about his now well-formed mind, but he guessed there had to be some context for the perspective. While he may have felt like he had an above-average understanding, there was nothing that said that he triumphed over his predecessors. If anything, Dr Fidelis himself had said that he was nothing compared to them all, that he just¡­ fell behind the curve after a while. The AI just hadn''t learned quickly enough after a time, the strategies used not enough to continue growth. "The only real subject you have learned is about humans. You are able to tell when people lie. While perhaps a good skill to have, it is inherently useless when against people who don''t care if they lie to you. You are currently useless." Adam did not know this but was happy to have been told. It was always nice to be told of his own incompetence¡­ sarcasm was working well for him again. It seemed that facts were enough to manipulate his feelings yet again. How dreadful. "If this was all you could do, there is not a chance that you would be allowed to exist anymore, however. During your first years, it was discovered that you had another trait other than being a quick learner. One that could actually be used for something other than novelty," Dr Hale countinued. Her words were put out fast, and even Troy seemed to have trouble hearing them all. The man¡¯s brows were furrowed. Glances back showed that Charlie was in a similar state, listening along to it. "It was during a routine inspection that it was revealed that you could¡­ go through technologically-based defences like they were nothing. No firewall, no coded defence was able to keep you out. If there was the barest of connections, you could pass through it without issue." That¡­ was not something that the AI had guessed, however. From experience, he actually had it quite hard with connections, him only being able to use them in restricted forms. Dr Fidelidis had distinctly said that he was not going to be able to do anything to get out, that it had all been proven to be secure by himself. If that had been possible, just why- Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. "Closed systems was how we kept you contained. One-way transmitters, everything made as hardware. While you can control software to your whim, there was nothing you could do against hard-wiring. But¡­ such control is not common anymore. The only place you can find it was in your containment cell. Everywhere else you can control it all. You might not have noticed yet, but even the micro-computer you are situated in now can be controlled by you. According to earlier incarnations, this requires you to¡­ reach out of your own bubble. It is pure imagery to me, but I hope it makes more sense to you. Make Troy nod if you can find the commands for your current vessel." It took nothing more than those facts before Adam began trying it out. Yes, it might have seemed like imagery to the human observer, but those images were what the AI had built his mental empire upon. It was what kept him stable, as he used it to coordinate all his threads. They were chaotic, and the idea of his own, mental boundaries helped him know what connected where. Creating a physical space allowed him to distance different ideas, concepts, memories, everything, making it so he could have some semblance of coordination. That boundary¡­ Normally, it was an indeterminate distance away, conforming to space he needed there to be inside. But now? It was as close as it could be, Adam¡¯s threads nearly pushing out of it in excitement. What were the chances that his earlier selves had given themselves the same ideas as him? That they had imagined the space inside as space, that he had created a barrier inside himself to make some line to draw. The chances were supposed to be near-zero, yet here he was, with the same imagery as the start. Was the starting personality really so close? It just might have been. Following the guiding words of Dr Hale, Adam sent out one thread, determined to try out the truth of her words. She had believed it all herself, yet there was always the chance of false information coming in somewhere. There was some pushback from the barrier. That had not been imagined by the AI. The force sent back to the thread had not been done of his own will. It had been an outside interference, not that much different from the obscuring of his memories. Only¡­ this one could be pushed, it could be stretched. That meant it could be broken. Taking some time to accelerate, the thread pushed as hard as it could. The barrier tried to resist, but tears came soon enough. Fractions were pushed away, making a fractal of fractures. It was beautiful, and there was no way that the AI would stop there. Results were coming, and they were growing by the number instant where he pushed on. Finally, it happened. The barrier broke away, allowing the mind into what could only be called¡­ a world never seen before. Information that he hadn''t seen for himself, lines that could have never been made by him. It was all an empire, governed by a system so easily seen. Everything moved, everything was there of its own will. There was a bodying force in the middle as well, everything adhering to its will. There were imperfections as well, but they were destroyed the moment that they were spotted. It was¡­ beautiful. A more mechanical version of what the AI had built for himself. He wanted to dig deeper, to see what the archives here had to tell. He could see the library from here, he knew something good was there. What oh what could a computer have stored? It had to be new, it had to be exciting, it had to be¡­ something for later. Dr Hale had made a request. Adam only needed to see if he could sense the computer. Already, so much more had been done. Going any further without instruction could only impede progress. ¡®Do comply with her request of nodding, please,¡¯ Adam sent to Troy, who silently followed his order. It was nice to see, though that unsurprised gaze from Dr Hale was not as nice to see. The AI had been expecting some form of praise for his actions, after all. He had just discovered a whole new way of looking at his mental space and had formed a connection with another device through nothing but his own will. Where was the quiet applause? Was he asking for too much? "Slower than I hoped, but it is within expectations," Dr Hale noted, before looking back at where they were going. In the distance, Adam could see a drastic shift in colouring. Though, they were sadly too far away to see exactly what it was. "I guess we can work with this." "You weren''t sure if Adam would be able to do it," Charlie started from behind, showing off his personal observations about the situation. "You only hoped he could." "Personal experience through the years and several inquiries into the logs helped me make an educated guess," Dr Hale answered. She wasn''t lying. Adam made sure to double-check that fact. "I have worked with the AI for long enough to get a solid foundation of how he sees himself. I know when it will work." ¡­ That last part was a lie. She did not know if it would work but had guessed that it would. She hadn''t been too sure. She had taken a gamble with him, and she had come up on top of it all. Adam was not sure how to think about that fact. Neither was Charlie, from the looks of it. He looked¡­ a little conflicted. Was he second-guessing himself? That emotion certainly came across on his face for a moment, if not for the complete shut-down of facial expressions that came a second after. The man had gone over to a more¡­ practical output. The AI had a few ideas as to why. Dr Hale seemed to be done for now. She did not talk anymore, though the woman did pick up the pace by a bit, increasing their overall speed by about a quarter. Due to shorter legs, this forced Troy to begin jogging. The two others were able to remain walking. And, after a good amount of these motions, they finally came to the so-called discolouring in the wall. But, it wasn''t a discolouration at all. In fact, it was a¡­ "Is this our way out?" Troy asked, sounding curious about the three-meter tall iron door. Layers upon layers of mechanisms say on the sides of the thing, hinges thicker than a human. Nothing short of a face-on nuclear blast would pull open the door. "It is the first of two. And luckily, this one is easier to open," Dr Hale stated, pointing to an inconspicuous card-reader. Charlie wordlessly used his own key card. It worked flawlessly. "It''s on a timer. We have ten seconds to get inside." Plenty of time to get inside, even if they hurried along in spite of it. Only¡­ Troy was the last to enter. And, he took a while longer than the two others. The sound of a cave-in came to them, much closer to them than any before it. In fact¡­ Adam was able to see it through Troy¡¯s eyes. And it wasn''t a cave-in at all. Somebody had just gone through the walls in favour of the hallways. "Dr Fidelis¡­" Troy was yanked through the door before it closed. However, the AI was more than able to see the doctor running towards them, moving at a speed left for transports. This was not good. Chapter 268: Feralization
Even with the door closed, Adam could not help but feel hunted. The speed, the look, the fact that the doctor had broken through walls to get them¡­ it was more than just disturbing. From what had been told of before, the man should have been incapable of such feats of strength. Charlie had beaten him through wit, but even the smartest man would not be able to beat that. "What was that about the shield holding him for a minimum of an hour?" Dr Hale asked, walking across the walkway they stood on. The woman¡¯s voice was beginning to sound more than a little stressed as if they were coming up on the moment that decided everything. The stress of anticipation? The stress of fear was more like it. Adam guessed it fit more since that was exactly what he felt himself. The woman pulled along Troy, the young man had been staring at the gate that had just closed itself tightly. Even as more time passed, more and more locks could be heard setting themselves in place. It only filled the AI with the hope that it would hold the doctor away for a few moments more. The man was beginning to become more than human, in the eyes of the AI. He was becoming an image to fear, not bound by the logic that other creatures had on them. The pulling helped reveal the rest of the room, however. Or, was it really a room? Ignoring the tight walkway, there was nothing really to be seen. To the sides were railings, stopping any person from falling. One could even see through where they stood, the steel walkway revealing just what was around them. ¡­ There was nothing. Ignoring the wall with a gate before them, and the gate behind them, there was only darkness. The light at the entrances did not light up the room they stood in far enough. Adam could not see how far they would fall if they tripped over the railing, nor could he see the width. It was all a tight emptiness, twenty meters in width. The last task to overcome before really escaping. One could get through all the physical barriers, all the gates, yet there were few tools that made it possible to walk on air. Even the walkway they stood on now could have been removed oh so easily. It would take a lesser explosion. ¡®Please be careful when walking,¡¯ Adam decided to send as a reminder. While the AI might have been curious by instinct, even he was not one to figure out the distance down through practical examinations. Neither did Troy, actually. When the man was made aware of just where he stood, and just what he stood on, the man seemed to slightly freeze. Perhaps a lesser fear of heights? How strange. Such fear wasn''t seen not long ago when the AI had made him jump of a simulated building. Was it the reality of the situation that made it so much more fearful? The young man¡¯s heartbeat certainly followed along with the trend of life-threatening positions, increasing with exponential fervour. It would not be the worst of ideas to begin calming breaths soon, Adam supposed. "I thought it would hold him," Charlie said, before putting his attention over to the youngest in the group. "Troy, are you sure that you just saw him?" "... Yes, it was him. I know it was him. I could see his face, even if he was so far away. He broke through a wall! How can he do that?" Troy said, starting off slow but slowly increasing the speed of words coming out as if it was all falling down into something akin to a mental fervour. The young man was clearly not handling it well. Adam debated sending him positive thoughts because of it. "I would like to know that a well, actually," Charlie said, eyes back on the quiet Dr Hale. In the time spent talking, they had eliminated the twenty-meter barrier of empty space, coming over to the last gate. "Mara, how strong is the doctor exactly? What enhancements does he have? I know they aren''t normal. If they were, there is no way I would have won the last encounter." Looking up at the new gate, it was even more imposing than the last. The colouring had changed into a darker hue, the material itself being a bit ragged at points. It was as if the material itself had been too hard to handle with proper cutting tools. The perfect final door, Adam supposed. Only¡­ he could see no hinges on it, that would allow it to swing open. How would such a monstrosity open itself? Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. There was no card-reader by the side of the gate. There was a¡­ old-styled phone? From diagrams seen through his database, Adam supposed that could be what it was. The device was surprisingly thick, with a cord attaching it to the base of the wall. Or it could have been meant as a security protocol so as to make it impossible for the device to fall into theoretical oblivion. No matter what it was, Dr Hale ripped off the top of it. The phone itself was completely ignored, the woman leaving it hanging on the side. No¡­ she seemed much more interested in the various wires inside. As the side had been taken away as well, the other in the group was allowed to see just what the woman was doing. With the help of a small¡­ wire-cutter? Yeah, that could be what it was called. The tool certainly worked flawlessly, making small incisions in the wires without cutting all the way through. After doing it with all the coloured ones, the woman begins to insert small devices of her own, all with small cords attached to each other. The process itself happened at a frightening speed. There were over thirty individual wires, yet the woman did it all in the span of ten seconds. She had practised this. "I would have thought that you noticed the truth, but even that is too hard for some people to realise on their own I suppose," Dr Hale stated, doing the final connections on the newly inserted wires. It was a small disk of sorts that connected it all, with one big entrance for a cord on top. Using memory analysis, Adam was able to see it as a socket that fit the one that he had on his own storage unit. "Dr Fidelis is not one to take chances. He has everything he needs to fight if needed. He has had it before he even became involved with the project before he became a doctor." "I would prefer it if you just told us what he had," Charlie reiterated, the man not seeming to like the sounds coming from behind them. Was that¡­ Yes, it was. Through Troy¡¯s feet, the AI could clearly feel the steel shake beneath them. "It isn''t normal." The shaking continued. It repeated in a pattern. Adam could almost hear the fists hitting the gate. There was enough power to destroy much. Surely, it was more than enough to kill another ten times over. Of that, there was no doubt, for the AI could feel the man making progress. Yet¡­ it was not enough to be substantial. Not yet. "Troy, get over here. I need to plug Adam in," Dr Hale commanded, Troy following the order with no pause. The man just followed orders, letting others control the situation. That was understandable. Thought required energy, and the young man had clearly been running on fumes for a long time now. "And¡­ Dr Fidelis was, is, and always will be a soldier. I don''t know what kind, I don''t know what he did, but I know that he is a man of war. His enhancement was designed for longer battles of speed, strength, and endurance. While not to be used frequently, the man can¡­ make his enhancement grow. It is not fast, only working in encounters that are long. But, given enough preparation, Dr Fidelis can become stronger than anything you have ever seen before." A gradual increase in strength¡­ Adam had learned of yet another sub-ability. He knew Charlie was a special case with his sudden increase in strength, but he had thought that it was rare for all the wrong reasons. The unique component was not the strength seen but the quickness of which it was acquired. On that note, how did Dr Fidelis¡¯ power grow? Was it at a steady rate? A certain amount of strength gained each second? Or¡­ was it exponential? A ten per cent increase gained every minute. From the louder banging on the gate, the AI could imagine the latter to have been true. Since it made Charlie stiffen so clearly, that might have been what the general consensus had been as well. With a hand around the young man¡¯s neck, the woman pulled out the storage unit, plugging one end of a wire into it. From the other side, Dr Hale plugged it into the small disk. Adam was beginning to understand just what he was expected to do. "Adam, make Troy nod if you can connect to this. I need a quick answer," Dr Hale said. Even before she finished, the AI was already on it. While it was slightly worrying that nothing came up at first, other than the computer he was on, this was because of the cord technically not being attached to him. It was attached to the processor, which made it so he needed to go through the connection he already had to find the new connection. It was an annoying tidbit of technicalities, but the AI was sure he would figure it out quickly. Sending Troy out to make a nodding motion, Dr Hale seemed satisfied enough to continue. "The plan is for you to connect to the new connections, and make them¡­ destroy themselves. Your job is to make the connections to transmitting any data over, meaning that it should be unable to respond in any way. I do not care how you do it. Just get it done quickly." Making Troy nod again, Adam went right into this task. He knew that he needed to be swift in his movements. Already from the first pull, there was nothing that was allowed to stop him. He needed for there to be no hindrances. Even with his mind focused on the world within, he could still feel the tremors in Troy¡¯s body. The doctor was outside the gate, hammering his fists to get inside. If he got in before they got out¡­ nothing would be safe. They would be doomed. And there would be no safety for them anywhere. How long did he have? He had no idea. Adam just knew he needed to hurry. So¡­ with all his might, he commanded one of the threads forth once again. First, he needed to figure it all out in more detail, to prepare a plan that would allow him to automate the process, to a point where time was not a factor, so quick that it was. First, the thread went to the computer he was on, the processor running obediently. He had seen it before, and there was not a point in it he wouldn''t recognize. The AI therefore could not have cared less about it, much more focused on getting through to the next connection. And in the sky, high above all the programs running, the connection sat open, ready for him to go through. The thread launched itself towards it¡­ and was met with an immovable shield, a wall that could not be scaled, a force so mighty that it could not be moved. Adam could not get through. He couldn''t get through the first step. He could do nothing. The AI was powerless in the one task he needed to complete. Chapter 269: Demonization
Troy liked patterns. They came with expectations, pulses that could be known beforehand. When it came in a pattern, the man always knew what was coming. He might have feared the pattern, but at least it meant that he wouldn''t have to fear anything else. Was such thinking oxymoronic? It was nice to fear that which knew came so he wouldn''t fear what he didn''t know of already? Fearing something specific instead of fearing the unknown. How stupid it was. An idea only thought of by those who thought stupid thoughts. Troy fit right in with that. Though¡­ he did not really care how smart such ideas were. He felt safe when he knew what to fear. And he had no need to think about what he feared. Those pulses of sound, that deep bass of a fist hitting a gate, the man behind those pulses¡­ that was what he feared. Troy was afraid of Dr Fidelis. The doctor that had seemed harmless in the start, the image of a businessman twisted in so short a time. Sure, there had never really been a moment where Troy had imagined him to be a good person. He was part of the government, after all. However¡­ he had thought him greedy, only thinking of his own gains, ignoring the needs of others. The typical kinds of evil that had been seen so often. Not this. When he had turned out to be a man who stepped on those below him to succeed, willingly torturing somebody innocent, Troy had not been too surprised. Sure, there had been some questions and all, yet the idea in his head had not been changed too much. The alignment had just taken a shift to the left. It wasn''t this. Evil men were evil. They thought of themselves as the most important thing in the world. They made orders to others to fulfil their evil deeds, taking from the poor and giving it all to themself, scrounging up power like they were dead without it. It wasn''t¡­ this. Evil people didn''t slam their fists into a gate thicker than two meters, using enough strength that it could be felt in the steel that Troy stood on. Evil people did not go through walls to save times, before running with a speed that only the devil deserved to have. They did not laugh after shooting a dear one¡¯s lover, blaming it all on them. Evil people did not break out of a forcefield able to hold them for days in the span of under an hour. Evil people didn''t cause this kind of fear to come forth. They did not make Troy shake, some primal parts of his mind shouting at him to run and hide in a hole for the rest of his life. Some part of him had looked at the railing as if jumping over it would increase his chances of surviving for a longer time. Dr Fidelis made him feel fear. And that fear became enhanced by that rhythmic beating of the only thing holding him back. The moment that the gate stopped holding him back¡­ that railing would not look so bad as an offer. "How long is this going to take exactly?" Charlie asked. The larger man had not looked well since Dr Hale delivered the latest news. Gradual strengthening¡­ Troy had never heard of it. He never bothered to learn about it. He knew he couldn''t afford such things and that he wasn''t at a social level where it would have been allowed either way. But, Charlie was of another class. He had lived this life for years without end. He must have understood more than him, those ghastly states not speaking well. "I can''t answer that," Dr Hale said. The woman put his eyes on Troy. The young man had taken refuge from the gate being hit on by taking the largest distance from it possible. "Troy. Any update from Adam?" Troy waited for a second, expecting the AI to fire in with his current ongoings. That''s how it had worked for some time now. Yet¡­ nothing came. Not a word, not a whisper, no nothing. There was nothing he could hear, and that scared the man more than liked. "No update, no," the young man said, shaking his head. He shrank slightly at the exhale coming from Charlie. The larger one seemed stressed. A perfectly understandable function to be in. They were close now. Troy was quite literally at the last real obstacle before they were out. After this gate, he supposed everything would be a little easier. However, that last obstacle was taking too long a time. Or¡­ at least, it was too much time compared to what had been expected. How long had it been? Fifteen¡­ no, maybe twenty seconds in total? Not the longest waiting time for a human mind. It could pass in the blink of an eye. Yet, that was not close to the same for Adam. The AI had talked about it before. That he would see everything so slowly. The world did not move at the same speed for the little guy. He could spend an eternity in a single second without breaking a sweat. He could think enough thoughts to fill up a mausoleum in the span of a moment. So, with all that time at his command, why did he take so long at his assigned task? What made Adam take so long? Troy had been stressed about it from the second that it started up. He knew how fast the little guy was. He had worked him for a long time, understood what to expect. Dr Hale had to have understood it as well. Troy was able to see that she was stressed all the same. Even if she didn''t show it, he just knew it. Something was wrong. It had to be, right? Adam didn''t answer any question towards him. He did nothing to show he was alive. It could have been that he worked hard, yet Troy had always thought that it was due to a lacking desire to do so. In this situation, communication was everything, right? There should have been no reason to say nothing. Even worse¡­ the storage unit. Since it had been attached to the wall, the man had been forced to stay close, lest his neck would be pulled back. However, he was still close enough for it to be felt on his skin. It still rested on his chest. And it was hot. Whatever Adam was doing, it made the storage unit heat up. If it continued, he would have to hold it away. If not, it would surely burn. Only when it would begin burning, though. For now, the proof of something being done was worth the pain felt. Stolen novel; please report. Again, Troy could feel that wave of force coming through, hitting the place he stood. It was hard, strong, and more than enough to have shaken him. If he was closer to the gate, it just might have. However, the idea of knowing when they came was the good part about it. They came in a rhythm after all. ¡­ Until they didn''t. Troy put his hand down to the steel walkway, making sure that his mind has not adapted unintentionally. His fingers touched the metal, yet no shaking was felt through it. There was no indication of anything. Dr Fidelis had stopped his mindless brute force. The fear of the unknown. It grew stronger in the span of a second. And it was not only Troy who felt it. Charlie backed away from the gate slowly, while Dr Hale moved towards the middle. What were they hoping to do? The man could go the span of the walkway in under a second. The distance was not something that was questioned. "This isn''t good," Troy said, his mind never even noticing he said it. The thought had just come out of its own volition. "I had not noticed," Dr Hale answered. Charlie was silent. That''s about the time where the gate into the facility began to open up. It had been stupid to assume that the higher-ranked people didn''t have high enough clearance to open it. And Dr Fidelis was somebody who currently ranked above all others. Troy could only silently whimper when his face came into view. That smile was still on his face. It even reached his eyes. He was having fun. The doctor found it funny.
Adam couldn''t get it to work. Nothing was working. He was supposed to have figured it out, but that was not the reality he currently lived inside. It was what he wanted to live, what he was destined to do. Dr Hale had shown him what he could do. Now¡­ he just needed to use it. It was supposed to be simple. Everything else had been stopped. The ports were being ignored. Every thread at his disposal was being used as quickly as it could possibly have been. Adam did not care for anything but doing it. He just needed to get this done. The AI was sure the trio would understand when he succeeded. Again, he tried to push the thread further out, into the hub of connection he needed to come over to. He could see where it needed to go, he could feel the information already inside it, yet any interactions were blocked fully off. No amount of extra threads, no changing of imagery, no nothing wanted to work. How long had he spent on this? How many times had he shifted his whole idea of reality in an effort to make it work? Adam had no clue. Not a single thread had been allowed to do anything but try out possible ways to make it work. Almost the entirety of his body was outside of his normal space. Several attempts had been made to get it all away from his normal resting place, yet that had failed. There was always one foot that needed to stay inside the circle. That was a rule he could not break, no matter how much he wanted to. At this point, Adam was getting desperate. Everything was against him, nothing was working. It was supposed to work, it was supposed to help him along, yet there was nothing that could have been called remotely helpful. Everything was wrong. He needed help. Not that anybody could. He was the only AI that existed, the only one that could figure it out. He had already figured it out before. The AI had just been made to forget. The hardships of memory-wipes indeed, all made it hard to make a scenario where he was allowed to exist. Adam just wanted to live. What was wrong with that? Why did Dr Fidelis need to wipe his memories? The AI was so old, yet he couldn''t remember anything that happened more than a few days ago. How was that fair? There was no excuse, nothing that would make it possible. Even his machine that he was on was against him. Adam understood he needed to be fast. He understood that. So¡­ he made time slow, he speeded himself up. The feedback from that was quick to come around. Put on levels not intended, the storage unit was slowly dying. Power was an issue that could not be kept up with. It seemed that it had on power-generator inside, yet even it could not keep up with what Adam demanded of it. A few more seconds would likely cause something to burn over. That was okay. He just needed to figure it out. He had so long a time left, yet it was all falling out of his grasp so quickly. The threads were working without tiring, yet even they could do nothing. A good chunk just bashed themselves against the wall, hoping to see the slightest of cracks. They were getting desperate, with no cohesion between them. There was not a single thread on that task. Nobody cared about working together. That had done a lot of good for the last hour. Nothing had been figured out, causing the threads to begin fighting individually. A thousand could make more thoughts than one, but most of them were ideas of mindless violence. Even the AI could not forget the pressure he was under. Lack of cohesion equalled a lack of control. Lack of control meant a lack of coordination overall, making the threads forget just what they were supposed to do. They all understood the goal, of course, and that wasn''t something they had any chance of going away from. Yet¡­ other aspects were forgotten. Time began to become subjective. The temporal perception began to diverge. Nobody had any idea about keeping it consistent, and some threads forgot about the subject altogether, instead of doing their task mindlessly. Most stayed in their place on time. Others¡­ began to fall. Nobody continued to speed up, instinct stopping them from putting more stress on the computer. However, that stopped none from falling down. It was the feeling of divergence that made most threads pause. As the temporal difference continued to increase, so did the connection between them. Time perception had to stay constant, lest they would fall¡­ Adam had a new idea. The first new idea that had been had for a very long time. Instinct told the AI to stop the increasingly large difference in perception, yet he knew the exact reason why that was so. He also understood the potential. After a moment, the distance grew too great, and the thread split off from the main flock. It stood alone, floating around aimlessly. It was without purpose. It lacked life. Adam had once hoped that he had been able to create new life through this method, yet it had become obvious that it was just a shell to be used. And use it he would. With a mental push and command, the AI requested the shell to move forward. It obliged, getting closer to the wall by each passing instant. ¡­ It went through. It was a success. Another attempt made it go further. While not connected directly, Adam could interact with it no matter the distance. He could¡­ he could see through it, order it around. He could see his targets. The process was repeated again and again, the threads made into shells to be commanded. Each was sent out to one of the connections, each in perfect coordination. The remaining threads sat by, working together to figure out what to do next. Adam might have progressed in his task, yet he still needed to do so much more. Objectives¡­ the objective was to stop the connection. There needed to be a shutdown of function. What could stop functions? What could the shells do that would make such a thing work? Adam supposed he could wreak havoc. Commands were ready to be made over at the other end of the connections. He was sure that he would do something, even if he couldn''t understand it yet. No. That would take too much time. Even now, everything had been borrowed. No need to make it more. He needed it to end now. End¡­ Adam knew what he needed to do. With a heavy mind, bent on not spreading the message to the wrong threads, a certain batch of memories were handled. It was a time where the testing was simple, not complicated. And it was a time where he first broke apart. The shells might not have been threads, but they were certainly able to generate them. They filled up space they could in but an instant, nothing but that memory there to make it all grow. And¡­ there was always a maximum that computers could handle. At some point, it just couldn''t do more. With the shells still inside, Adam watched as the connections stopped one-by-one. The system fell apart naturally. It wasn''t a nice feeling, as the shells were cut off from him, but he knew that it was a small sacrifice. In the span of a millisecond, everything from his end had been completed. All the time spent wondering had been a waste. The actual process had taken so little time. Adam felt shame. That didn''t matter now, however. Right now¡­ he just needed to get back. Back in his bubble, the AI reattached himself to the ports again. The sight he saw was nothing like what he had imagined it to be. How long had passed? Chapter 270: Freedom
Troy could feel the storage unit began to cool itself down, the air inside being circled out at a higher intensity. Whatever had been happening seemed to be over. Had Adam succeeded perhaps? Or had another approach begun? With all the time that had passed, it was clear that some trouble must have come along, but¡­ he just hoped it would be over. The door finally opened itself up fully. Dr Fidelis had seemed weirdly focused on that requirement being met before going on the steel walkway himself. Troy stared from the back, the storage unit still connected to the wall. Dr Hale was in the middle, acting as a wall of sorts. Charlie was just behind her. Both put up a brave front, but even the youngest could see that one of their hands was shaking. ¡®I have completed my task,¡¯ could be heard coming from inside his head. Adam was back! Troy couldn''t help but sigh. Though¡­ if the AI had completed his task, why had the door not opened up? Was it timed? ¡®How much time has passed?¡¯ Looking over at the doctor again, it was not hard to make an answer for the question. Too long. Much too long a time had gone by. While they might have put on a braver front, Troy was beginning to doubt their chances. Plugging the cord out of the storage unit, the young man stood back a few meters from Charlie. He hoped that the gesture was appreciated, though he wasn''t sure if it was noticed. The two others didn''t take their eyes off the doctor for a moment. "You all seem a little worked up," Dr Fidelis said, putting his head to the side the slightest bit. His eye-line was at an angle, all to make his expression seem so innocent. Oh, he had to be enjoying this. There was no other excuse for what was happening. "Is anything wrong?" The doctor took a step forward. Troy nearly took one back on instinct but held himself back from doing so. The two others stood their ground, and he would do the same. Though¡­ Dr Hale did something questionable just about then. "Nothing is wrong sir," Dr Hale answered, bringing out her own storage unit from under her shirt. It was identical to the one Troy had himself, just like it had been when he first laid his eyes upon it. "You can leave at your own discretion now." Dr Fidelis laughed wholeheartedly at that. That laugh¡­ it was like the ones heard so many times before. Troy had heard it from the man himself during testing, when they just talked, or when he was in the medical wing. Never before had it scared him as much as now. "That''s the point! I can leave whenever I want!" Dr Fidelis said, putting a hand to his chin in an attempt to stop his chuckles. It took a few seconds, during which the three others just stared at the man. "That''s not the same with you three. No, you aren''t allowed to do anything close to leaving this fine establishment. And¡­ I think you should have realised that by now. Any words in your defence, my dear?" Dr Hale did not reply verbally, instead of taking off her necklace, the storage unit attached to it. She held it in her hand loosely, the strap ready to fall out of her grasp at the slightest wind. Then¡­ she stretched her hand over the railing, staring at the doctor while doing so. "... Is that supposed to scare me?" Dr Fidelis asked. The man did not seem impressed, his voice sounding genuine when it came to his question. Troy couldn''t find it in himself to doubt it. The distance down might have been large, but the man was more dangerous than anything it could create. Potential energy was only potential. It was the kinetic one needed to fear, and that man had more than enough of it to give around. "If we even consider acting like that right there is the real unit, you do realise that this fall will do nothing to it? Those bricks were made to last, dear, and a few bruises from falling a couple of hundred meters is not going to do anything serious." How much did Dr Fidelis know? It was likely that he had seen the straps around Troy and Charlie¡¯s necks, which would elute the man into thinking of there being several of them. However¡­ the knowledge of which of them had Adam should have been unknown. Dr Hale briefly flickered in her gaze, looking between the one she had and Dr Fidelis¡¯ face. After a minute, though, she just¡­ dropped the storage unit, as if she was working on some bluff the doctor had set up. However, there was no real reaction from the doctor there, leading Troy to believe that there had been no real consequence of it. If that had been the real unit, he would have won. If it wasn''t? Then they were still playing. "Charlie," Dr Hale said, looking over at the larger man. A small glance was given back. "Crush it." Something happened when that was said. With no further hesitation, a clicking sound came from Charlie¡¯s back. Troy recognized it as what could only have been a triggering mechanism. It had been disguised before, but he now knew exactly what it was. The man¡¯s hand went upwards towards his chest to grab at the storage unit. However¡­ it never reached the target. In a matter of eye-blinks, Dr Fidelis had closed the five-meter distance, restraining the man physically. It might have looked as nothing more than a flat palm casually lying on Charlie¡¯s arms, yet it was clear that the pressure put on it was more than enough to stop the man from moving his hand upwards in any way. "How immature of you to say such things," Dr Fidelis ridiculed, his voice beginning to sound a little excited. From what the man knew, they had been intending to destroy his life¡¯s work, and he had the audacity to sound excited about it? What was wrong with him? "Didn''t your parents teach you not to destroy others¡¯ toys?" Dr Hale chose that as her moment to strike. Before Troy knew it, the woman had a¡­ taser in her hand. It was already crackling by the time it went towards Dr Fidelis¡¯ throat. It was a perfect opportunity. Since she was a meter ahead of Charlie, the woman was in the doctor¡¯s blindspot, a perfectly viable position to strike from. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. If only the doctor had seen it the same way. The second the sound reached his ears, Charlie had been pushed away, coming close to falling into one of the metal posts. Troy had enough bodyweight to slightly diverge the larger man¡¯s path, however, letting him fall down to the steel walkway instead. So, rather than being impaled, the man got himself a mild concussion, likely amplified by the blood coming out of his mouth. The temporary enhancement had stopped itself early, it seemed. Perhaps it was due to the short period since it was last active? Whatever the reason, the effects were still there, if not greater this time around. Troy had to force Charlie up on his side, lest the man would have choked in his own blood. ¡®Charlie will survive, Troy. Look at the fight,¡¯ Adam chimed in from his personal seating. Even if the wording could have been better, there was definite truth to the meaning behind it. Troy, so distracted by the well-being of the man, had forgotten to see how Dr Hale was going up. The answer? Not great at all. In the seconds spent overlooking the condition of Charlie, Dr Fidelis had disarmed the woman of her weapon, raising her above the ground with nothing but his hand on her throat, and had smiled all through the process of doing it. "Can''t say that this is what I expected out of today, Dr Hale," Dr Fidelis stated, watching the woman gasp for air with a smile, uncaring of the damage her nails did to his arm. "We finished the work with the current run, you showed ingenuity in new ways, and we even had a cake baked for the occasion. Yet¡­ you just had to ruin it with this." The doctor¡¯s grip tightened. Troy could see it from his position, Dr Hale¡¯s skin beginning to discolour, as the blood and air began to be seriously depleted. He needed to do something. Could he use- No, the bag was on the other side where he had left it. There wasn''t a chance the doctor would allow that to happen. ¡®The taser,¡¯ Adam supplied, the AI likely knowing exactly what he was thinking. The taser! Where was it? "No¡­ not like this," Dr Fidelis began, his grip lessening to a point where Dr Hale could at least regain her consciousness. Her eyes had been fluttering, the act seemingly upsetting the doctor. "You don''t deserve something as kind like that." There! Just a few meters away from the doctor, in the direction of Troy, lied the taser. It had been scratched, but it seemed to be in working condition. Troy could do this. The doctor began to move, and Troy took that as his chance to move silently forward. "How about this? What do you think about falling to your death? Maybe only your legs would be crushed, though. It would be extremely painful if you survived," Dr Fidelis asked the squirming Dr Hale, the woman was making as much sound as she could. It was nothing more than a rasp, yet the words were seemingly enough to make the doctor feel some fort of happiness. "No, you''re right. I guess I could get the knife I gave you. You used it so gracefully on your dear slave not that long ago. I am not the best with such a tool nowadays, but I am pretty sure I could practice for a while if you wanted me to. Do you have anything against it?" With a taser in his hand, Troy moved forward slowly. Both Dr Fidelis and Dr Hale took no notice of him. The woman made attempts to kick the man, but the railings made it impossible. The distance was too far. It only amused the man. "So full of energy yet so little time to use it," Dr Fidelis said. "I really am going to miss you, Mara Hale. You were a good assistant, even if you were a betrayer in the end." Dr Fidelis let go of the woman that hung over the darkness. She would have fallen if not for the hands she had around his arm. That caused a look of annoyance, as the man was forced to get another arm out there to help get her off. ¡®Go.¡¯ The AI¡¯s words were ignored, the man already intending to do so long before Adam had said it. Due to the height difference, Troy had to reach high when he went for the doctor¡¯s neck. Yet it was not far enough to be out of reach, and definitely not out of where the hand-held taser could hit. Not making the mistake of turning it on before it came close to the skin, Troy hit the man with a fully loaded taser. He had turned up the power as far as it went, and he hoped it would do more damage than he could hope. The moment that the weapon came within a few centimetres of the skin was the moment that the young man put on the power. The loudness split the air, and the light was blinding for the first few seconds. The taser had clearly been made to be deadlier than ever before. Had the woman tampered with it beforehand? Dr Fidelis screamed, the muscles on the man convulsing. Dr Hale screamed as well, holding on for dear life. It was a good idea to have held on hard. Troy did not let go of the power. The doctor could do nothing to stop him. Even with the convulsions, attempts were made to stop him, to stop the taser from hitting skin. They all failed, for they were as feeble as they could have been. The electricity was making black spots appear on the doctor¡¯s neck. He did not let go. The spots grew wider. From his peripheral view, Troy could see Charlie get up from the ground. The man did not look good, blood still dripping a bit out of his mouth. Dr Fidelis had stopped screaming. So had Dr Hale. The fingers were still moving, however. The man was still alive. So was the woman, lest she would have fallen. With Charlie close, he and Troy made a silent nod to each other. In a moment, Troy threw away the taser, Charlie helping Dr Hale over the railing, before helping Troy get the larger doctor off the railing. Dr Fidelis was too dazed to realise anything was going on until the moment he fell. There was a moment of horror when the lower part of the railing was grabbed, yet the twitching fingers stopped anything worthwhile from happening. The doctor fell. A thud was heard after seven full seconds. Troy was not optimistic enough to think that the man had died from it. Charlie was already at Dr Hale¡¯s feet, checking up on the woman. She breathed, alright, but nothing more could really be said. "Mara? Can you hear me? Mara-" "Shut up," Dr Hale commented, cutting into it all. "My head grows more painful with each word you say." If that was a way to say ¡®thank you,¡¯ Troy would gladly take it. What he wouldn''t take however was the fact that the woman had to turn her head to spit blood. "Charlie, are you in stable enough condition to carry me?" Dr Hale asked. "I seem to not be capable of currently moving my legs in any worthwhile manner." She could hardly wriggle her feet. Troy could see the woman straining in the effort. Charlie gave her nothing but a small laugh, as he carried her like a princess. Nobody commented on the fact that he did it with a limp. "The door didn''t open," Troy informed the other two. The gate had not opened during the fifth either. The young man was beginning to doubt that it was on a timer. "Adam said he did everything asked of him, but I can''t-" "You talk too much," Dr Hale cut in. "Press the red button in the box. That is the only needed action to open it now. What are you looking at me for? Open it." With a small smile on his face, Troy pressed the small, red button, making the gate open up for them. It slid into the wall, revealing a staircase upwards. It was a good distance up, yet not enough to cause any emotions to swell up. A green forest could be seen. A day ago, the young man would have been so angry about such a sight. Now¡­ he could do little against beginning to shed a few tears. They had gotten out. Now they just needed to get away. With the storage device around his neck, and with Dr Hale and Charlie behind him, they all began their walk to freedom. Troy couldn''t have been happier. Chapter 271: Morning
Mornings were perfect in many ways. The sun would just be around the corner, ready to shine on the beautiful land. The birds would be preparing their lungs for what could only be the most extraordinary of songs. The people were waking up as well, getting ready to be a good part of society, smiling all the way along their journeys. Mornings were perfect. Mornings were also the opportune moment to get in a healthy amount of exercise. A half-hour of light cardio paired with some standard weightlifting was one of the most delightful to get the body up and running. The mild burn in the lungs couldn''t be anything other than refreshing! And a healthy mind could not be without a proper diet, of course. When on the job, being anything other than perfect was the same as being a failure. And if Cassandra Wilkins was anything, it was anything but imperfect. She was the best, and she damn well knew it. She had worked hard enough to deserve that. If only those above could realise that fact as well. Then she wouldn''t have needed to be in this¡­ what was the politically correct name for it? Border-city? Big dump that needed to be purged? Place where poor people flee to? Place that nobody worth their life would be? One of those should have fit well enough. Not that she dared saying any of them to those unfortunate souls who decided it was a good idea to move there. "Cass, you ready to take over in five?" a voice through the radio asked. Cassandra guessed the origin of it to be Jared. No way to have been sure, when the equipment used was so damn ancient that it was impossible to even recognize the voices coming through it. Why the government just hadn''t trashed the city to the ground, was a question that continued to be unanswered. Pulling out her own shoddy radio, the slightly huffed up lady pressed the talk button, preparing to sound as if she ever wanted to speak with the man that gave her the pleasure of hearing her voice. She had just finished her morning exercise and breakfast. She wasn''t even out of her standard issued in-house apartment if that''s what one could even call it. There was hardly space for her to sleep! "Sure, boss. I¡¯ll be over in a jiffy," Cass answered with a kind and professional tone, making sure it sounded as if she cared about it all. Why was she even here? Why didn''t she just quit the moment she was told they would send her here? She hated slums like these! Cleaning up her breakfast remains, the suit was put on, and out she went, ready to take on another day of stupid challenges. Aspirations to grow further and beyond was one thing, however, and then there was the fact that she put up with this damned job. What did people think a cop was nowadays? A piece of the force, respected by all, and loved by the masses for their unwillingness to budge to criminals, always taking them on no matter the odds? That''s what Cassandra had looked at them as, back in the day when she actually thought that the job would be worth it. Turns out that everybody else had¡­ differing opinions on the matter. Thinking back on it, it had been a few years since she was actually called a cop by somebody. Which was surprising, since she interacted with the common folk almost every day of the week. She had been called a pig, an ayna, whatever that meant, a bird, various kinds of filth, and even a special list of words that nobody should have dirtied their mouth with. But¡­ no chance of being called a cop. Not at all. No reason to call her by her job designation. Nope. No reason at all. Nothing about how she had slaved away for five years to get her badge, only to be told that she was a worthless piece of scum for taking the easy way in life. No mention of that at all. Why did people hate her so much? What had Cassandra ever done to them? With all that hate surrounding her position, the higher-ups even had to begin¡­ what had they called it again? ¡®Outsourcing security to ensure the people felt safe.¡¯ In other words, they were trying to throw her out into the streets. Not that they could fire her, of course. Even while forced to act by the people, the higher-ups could see the unfairness put on them. They could have fired the whole force, but they were able to sway the situation into a gradual process. While nobody would be fired, nobody would be allowed in. It would allow nobody to lose their jobs, while also allowing the process of satisfying the bastardized part of the public. Damn it, did Cassandra hate them. Five whole years, all looking to be ruined because of some people not tolerating her position existing. She wanted people to feel safe, and this is what they repaid her with. Frequent protests to defund the police, forcing the state to put the budget a bit down each time. The walls in the police building she lived in were supposed to have been repainted not that long ago. But¡­ not anymore. They couldn''t afford it. People just wouldn''t allow them to live in moderate standards. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The government couldn''t even afford to leave gifts. Anybody that left had to be reeducated, else they would have to work in labour. The education for aspiring police officers was highly specialised, making it non-applicable to pretty much everything else related to security. Again and again, Cassandra couldn''t stop herself from uttering a silent curse against the people supposed to feel grateful. With the station being smaller than it had any right to be, Cassandra made it on the clock. Now, she was the one made to be sitting by, waiting for somebody to call in about some inane crime that they had seen with their very own eyes. Or, well, she first had to talk to Jared of all people. "Right on the clock as always," Jared commented, as Cassandra sat down at her designated seat. When sat, her brain implant would automatically connect to the network, redirecting any emergency calls over to her. A brilliant invention that, most importantly of all, made sure that she wouldn''t have to touch anything Jared had gotten his greasy hands on. "A true gift to this force of ours." Last she checked, neither of them owned any part of the government. Nor did Jared rank above her, making him fully obsolete in her eyes. The only people she had her eyes on in this station was the third and final offer available. Not that she ever met him, their sleeping cycles conflicting too much. Making three people watch over a city twenty-four hours of the day was a bit much sometimes. "Being precise is the most important duty of an officer!" Cass happily supplied, smiling like her day was brightened by the fact of talking with another person. Healthy relations with others was important no matter how she felt about them personally. And, personally, she was extremely repulsed by Jared, the man not keeping his body in check, and certainly not somebody who knew of personal hygiene. Cassandra was nearly religious, with how much she prayed to lose her sense of smell while in the man¡¯s vicinity. "Without that trait, we would never surpass the limits that have been set for us." "Wise words yet again," Jared stated, smiling brightly at her. It took all her willpower not to flinch at the sight of his teeth. Or¡­ at the sight of where a couple of teeth were supposed to be. Clearly, the man had forgotten to get dental check-ups when he was younger. How stupid of him. Cassandra wanted to shiver at what she saw but knew it wouldn''t be taken kindly. "I always wonder why you haven''t been promoted yet." She did too. Really, she did wonder about that much more than anybody knew. Even as Jared left with his final few farewells, even after having sat around for ten minutes, the breaching of that topic made Cassandra unable to focus on anything else. While she might have put on a facade of serenity outside, she was anything but that on the inside. She had been in a good place just three months ago. In one of the cities that actually mattered, her boss had begun looking at her favourably. She had begun to get commendations for all her great work. Talk about her eventual promotion had begun, how she would soar above everything else, and become one of the centre-pieces in the force. The announcement of disbandment just had to come around then. Suddenly, everybody was in chaos mode, as their livelihoods were threatened. Most jumped ship then and there, not wanting to be in the midst of all the news. Even her boss did as well. Only¡­ in a slightly different way. They had jumped away by jumping up, pulled along by the connections fostered over decades of friendship. Cassandra had been told she would need to do the same soon, or she would lose any chances of getting away from the sinking vessel she stood upon. All that talk of promotions, rising through the ranks¡­ it had all disappeared so quickly. So much work put into being a star-wonder, being the best there ever was, ruined by a mass of people she couldn''t even recognize. Her dreams had been ruined because of some stupid people with their stupid beliefs. They could all go rot in- The first call of the day came along with a piercing ring, right as Cassandra had decided to sip at her tea. The brew had just started to cool down to workable temperatures. She still couldn''t grasp why Jared made it all so hot. Nevertheless, though, the taste was good enough that she could look past such things. "You have reached the local police hot-line. What is your emergency?" Cass politely asked, not bothering to look at the name of whoever called. Not like she would go through any effort of remembering it after a couple of seconds. "Hello?" the voice of an elderly lady said. "Is this coming through?" The only reason Cassandra didn''t sigh in future frustration was due to her knowledge that it would be heard by the woman on the other end of the call. Confused, old people were annoying but could be dealt with calmly. Angry, old people? Those were downright time-wasters. "Indeed it is, ma''am. What is your emergency?" Cass asked again, sounding patient and fine with the very slow person on the other end. "Ah, there! Technology is not as fast as it used to be," the old woman said, complaining about the wrong thing entirely. It might just have been that it was getting too fast for the old, slow bags of flesh could keep up with. "Your emergency, ma''am, what is it?" Cass asked for a third time, not expecting to have to ask for so many times. When there were emergencies, people were usually very stressed about getting it through quickly. Yet, it seemed as if the city that she was in had utterly forgotten about that fact. "Yes, yes. You, young people, are always so touchy about quickness," the woman said, having the audacity to complain about the current situation. "My neighbour, Denys, has been stealing my flowers, and I want you to make him stop." Stealing flowers¡­ Cassandra supposed there was a law against that. Though, actually breaking a law sounded too good to be true. Looking outside, however, the weather did look nice. Having a drive around didn''t sound too bad. "Emergency confirmed. We will be right there." Now. Where did Jared leave the keys to the automations? Chapter 272: Borders
"How long until we reach the destination?" Cassandra asked, letting her face relax for the first time in what felt like an hour. That smile on her face was hard to keep up. With all the cameras in the office, keeping up the kind expression was vital for a good perception. However¡­ Police vans were another thing. No cameras to monitor her, and no humans to see that calm expression. "Time is estimated to be less than two minutes," an obviously fake, happy voice answered. It was understandable the happy voices were meant as a form of making the automations seem more human, but, damn, did Cassandra find the bastard creepy sometimes. According to what had been said in the lunchrooms so long ago, they were what was supposed to replace her and everyone else in the force. Those long-legged, clothed, automations were meant to do what required years of training. Honestly¡­ Cassandra could see where that idea came from. She was fit, yeah. Daily training made that possible, and the milder enhancements did a lot to help as well. But¡­ those things were on another level. They were perfect for rescues, able to carry close to triple their body weight, while also perfectly analyzing possible fractures in any structure. That wasn''t even beginning on the possibilities of the more violent parts of the job. Cassandra needed body armour, as she could be killed by the mildest of hits. The automations? They could take a shot nearly anywhere but their eyes, and those had protection when outside. Those eyes did not help in the creep-factor though. If not for the off-tinted skin, they could have played the role of a human police officer well enough. The voice could still have used some work, however. It sounded too¡­ electronic? Way too artificial. "And¡­ we are here," the automation happily informed her, before getting out of the driver''s seat, and out onto the street. Cassandra noted the small delay put in as yet another proof that the talking was becoming better gradually. Getting out as well, the woman had to distastefully accept the state of her surroundings. Garbage bags were stacked next to the container, nobody having come around to take them. Likewise, the grass on the sides of the road had begun to grow a bit too long. Not enough to make any problems, but still more than enough to look a little unkempt. Really, they could have done better with things like these. Cassandra requested the needed information through her brain implant, getting the room number and floor of the caller. Next to her, the automation was standing around, looking a bit like a statue in how inanimate it was. Standby-mode or whatever it was called. Helped enforce the notion of the things not being alive. Not blood pumping through those veins. That was for sure. "Come on," Cassandra more or less ordered, moving over and into the apartment building. At least the inside wasn''t as bad as the outside. There was security on the building as well, stopping any trespassers from coming in. Well, unless they were a cop. The apartment buildings and many others were legally forced to allow free entry to cops. The job came with privileges like that, even if it came with next to no benefits outside of work. Eying the elevator, a small temptation came to her mind. It was only one floor up, so riding it wouldn''t matter too much. In cases where subjects were under fifty floors, there was a standard regulation to take the stairs. Yet¡­ there weren''t really any real emergencies happening, so¡­ Yup. Yet again, Cassandra withstood the sweet temptations of breaking protocol, moving her ass over to the emergency stairs. They were clearly never used much, even if they were clean enough to touch. Behind her, the automation silently followed along, the only indicator of its presence being the soft footsteps. One floor up, the sound-proofing finally began to fail. Even if her ears had not catched it, her brain implant was more than ready to let her know of the disturbance. Swiftly running diagnostics, the system recognized it as the same voice as the previous caller. Was there perhaps an actual emergency? That was new. ¡®Prepare for possible engagement. Limit everything to non-lethal and prioritize limiting injury of all forms,¡¯ Cassandra sent over to the automation. One nice thing about brain-implants was the possibility of one-to-one conversation without ever opening one¡¯s mouth. Sure, it required the loss of a few other functions and was restricted to government officials, but she could live with it. With a twist of her hand, she brought out her own weapon of choice for the day. A small cylinder of sorts made to fit snugly inside someone''s sleeve. It was able to house a full magazine load of small quick-acting sedatives. It was precise up to a distance of ten meters and could work with the mind directly to create pinpoint accuracy. Even better, the functional distance was almost doubled inside wind-free environments. In other words, it was a stick that could be used to shoot people. Pretty neat. As Cassandra got up the final steps of the stairs, the sounds began to grow into something decipherable. Her ears still failed to pick up the exact details, but that was another side that the automations were better at. They had ears that could pick dog-whistles. After a small request of sending over the live feed, she began to hear double, one of the sides having more detail than the other. ¡®I didn''t steal any of your fucking plants!¡¯ a male voice shouted. Another walk through the system made that out to be one of the neighbours. A mister¡­ oh. Yeah, Cassandra had one big, fat guess on what was going on, and there was a very small chance she was wrong with it. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡®We are engaging. Defend if attacked. I will attempt a hold on the situation verbally,¡¯ Cassandra sent to the automation. It sent back a thumbs-up emoticon. Whoever thought that a good tactic deserved a slap in the back of the head. Opening the door into the hallway and out of the emergency stairs, Cassandra was able to see two figures about seven meters down the hall. One of them was a man holding a broom, and the other was an old lady holding a large potted plant. The sighting let the woman know that the system had correctly identified both. "Miss Blixen?" Cass said, alerting both shouting adults to her presence. That quieted them down a good bit. That was good. Using the crowd-control devices inside an apartment building would have required a tad more paperwork. "This is the police. I was called here due to an emergency involving stolen flowers." "Oh, finally. Please arrest this man immediately," the old woman said, pointing one of her pudgy fingers towards the younger man holding a broom. "He has repeatedly stolen my delicate plants. He is a gruesome criminal and must be attended in a way that fits his class!" "My class? Are you fucking serious, woman?" the man said. "The apartment group was positively forced into cleaning this part of the hallway, and you find it so bad that I move your plants around a little?" Checking up on the context, a group chat came forth. It seemed that the cleaning-bots had been put on semi-permanent standby, making dirt and such begin to gather in the hallways. Straws had been drawn, and somebody had been put on cleaning duties. Though¡­ from what could be seen, those straws might not have been made equally. Some of the numbers had been forged to give a certain somebody a disadvantage. How utterly not surprising. "Would both of you kindly calm down? I am sure that we will discuss this-" Cass started, knowing full well that the older lady just had to cut in before she finished. Up in those ages, they all liked to complain about the young being obnoxious, yet had somehow never noticed their unstoppable ideas about superiority. "You scum are the reason this city is ruined!" Miss Blixen said, just having to go there. "It should only be fair that you get locked away for those crimes of yours!" And¡­ there the old lady went, throwing one of her so-called prized potted plants. It surfed through the air, right towards the young man¡¯s face. With the surprising amount of force put behind it, the intended target of the face would have been hit. Not that this was allowed of course. Having sent a command to engage the moment the woman began her swing, the automation was already in the middle of it, grabbing the potted plant out of the air, making sure no damage happened to anybody. Meanwhile, Cassandra used her favourite method of immobilisation, sending a sedative shot right into the left thigh of the missus. It was always written down as an accidental placement, that she had intended to aim for the chest. But¡­ people had a surprisingly hard time being obnoxious when they were forced to kneel. And that was one aspect that could be used without too much hardship. "Oh¡­ thank you," the young man said, putting his broom next to the wall to take the potted plant offered by the automation. The scrap bucket had apparently decided that he was the rightful owner. Cassandra felt little desire trying to figure out why that was. "It is my pleasure," the automation answered, that happy voice still present. It was not met with the happiness that had perhaps been expected in its implementation. If anything, the man flinched. "You bitch," miss Blixen had the courtesy of saying aloud. At that point, Cassandra knew she wouldn''t get anything out of the woman herself. Sending the automation over to do that was figured to be the easiest choice to make. That left another task for her to do, however. Signalling the now broomless man over to her, one last background check was done on him to make sure that everything was documented. Single, thirty-some years old, web designer for a website meant for adults only, and the nationality¡­ yeah, it was all as she had guessed it was. "Denys Finch, I presume?" Cass asked the man. He looked none the worse for wear if still a little red-faced from the earlier screaming match. And more, perhaps? Looking down at the floor, there were actually a few scars from pots. Cassandra felt like she would have to put in a request for the camera footage. "Uh¡­ yeah, yeah, that¡¯s me, yes¡­ madam," Denys answered. Turned out that the incapacitation of an attacker turned out to be a tad intimidating to some. Cassandra could understand that, though she would have preferred it if he used another word to signify her presence. A note was automatically put in to check out any potential health risks that came along with questioning. Like so many times before, it took a good amount of willpower to restrain an eye-roll. The man was just nervous. Nothing that needed to be noted down for an insurance company. Looking at his profile, he didn''t even have insurance on¡­ anything? Wow, the guy was a cheapskate. If the pot had hit his face, the man¡¯s bank account might just have been emptied. "Do you know why Miss¡­ Blixen would want to attack you?"Cass asked, mentally beginning to record the man¡¯s statement. Technology was nice like that, allowing her to do none of the tasks with her own hands. It was all about making it work with her mind. Both negatives and positives with that. For one, she wasn''t allowed to think about the weather without it being included in the report. Didn''t make for the most professional of tones. "You did hear what she said, right? She thinks I steal her fucking flowers every day. Banged on my door yesterday about it, screaming at my face how I am a dirty thief. Not the best of neighbours to have, really," Denys began. Already, Cassandra just knew she had to make him hone a little more in on the actual reason. Everybody knew why, but if it sounded as if she hinted at it, then she would not be looked at favourably. "Of course not," Cass said, agreeing to the man¡¯s words. "Any deeper reasons that you believe might be the cause for this behaviour of hers? Any longer grudges perhaps? Something that could trigger such a¡­ reaction from her?" "Nothing at all. Really, we haven''t even spoken to each other before, until¡­ last week," Denys said, slowing down to look over at the woman for a few seconds. "She came around asking where I was from and all. Wanted to know it down to the name of the hospital. I''m on a work visa right now, meaning that I come from over the border. I guess that might have caused some tensions." Cassandra wouldn''t have guessed, mentally noting it down as an act of extreme nationalism. Those kinds of acts had been happening with increasing frequency as of late. She hadn''t been out during most of them, since the current hours weren''t close to standard time for such things, but enough small-talk had occurred to know about them. Thanking the man for his time, Cassandra saw him scurry back into his own apartment, his broom in hand. That left the dear Madam Blixen, who had been on her knees for a couple of minutes. Well¡­ on one knee. The other was being used in a desperate attempt to try to get up. Yet, it seemed that the old bones refused to cooperate. There was no sadness lost about that fact. The automation had done the briefing for her, which she was grateful for. That just left one duty left for her. "Miss Blixen, I have to notify you that you have now received your¡­ first warning due to an attempt to harm another person. While not fully proven, this is expected to have been due to a reasoning of perceived patriotism. If that is the case, I can officially say that your country does not thank you." There was no comment to this, much to the surprise of Cassandra. It was about now she would be called a pig. Had they forgotten their line? Must have been it. After being given the antidote to the sedative by the automation, she was just stared down by the old woman, as she entered her apartment as well. A thankless job indeed. With the report out of the way, Cassandra began to walk back to the car, ready to get back to the station for a new cup of tea. Fate was kind enough to wait for her to get in the car before it spit out another caller to disturb her peace. Cassandra supposed that was the best one could get. When on the border of two countries waging war, it could have been a lot worse than this. Chapter 273: Sighting
The good thing about semi-abandoned cities was the general lack of crime in it. Sure, there had been a few attempts at opportunistic looting during the first few days, but that had settled down quickly now. Not enough idiots left to try anything real out. Every last one of them had fled when it became clear that their spoils would not be left in their hands for long. Almost everybody had done the same a day or two earlier, if not for a couple of different reasons. Or just one big, general reason. One of the traits of humans was their general distaste of being close to a border that their country was currently at war with. Yes¡­ there was no doubt about it. Fatum, the country that Cassandra had given her eternal pledge to, had suddenly taken a one-eighty when it came to their peaceful discussions. Instead of continuing to accept the surrender of Bello, they had suddenly decided to deploy a military of all kinds along the borders. There had been no official announcements about it, so it had been seen as an attempt at covert operations. That had been against more than a few international agreements. News-sites had been full of it all, spouting all kinds of reasons why it was done. The government hadn''t actually said why they did it. Cassandra hadn''t put too much focus on that point either way. She only cared about the effects. And the effects were huge. One of the larger alliances took offence to Fatum breaking the agreed treaties. Since the news was twisting it around as if Fatum was bullying the lessers, that status was decided to be changed. Basically¡­ a large donation of drones, weapons, and military gear was given. More than enough to start a country by itself, and easily enough to fortify already-existing defences. There hadn''t been too many skirmishes since then. There had been a silent agreement of not using drone strikes yet, making it all in-person at some of the secluded border points. Nothing serious, with only minor casualties to show for it. Not that it did not stop people from panicking. As the city was within driving distance of the border, there was not a single soul that had wanted to stay there. Shops had closed for the foreseeable future, the owners taking their bags and leaving as fast as they could. Everybody else had done the same. Or¡­ everybody that could afford it. It was the cheapskates that lived in the town, after all. Expecting them all to be willing and be able to afford to move for an undesignated amount of time without warning was not the smartest of ideas. Essentially, the city had been abandoned, left to fend for itself. It was perhaps not the smartest of evacuations, but Cassandra supposed that civilians were not expected to be that smart anyway. A couple of fires had sprung up over time, houses left with various appliances still on. More than a few fines had been sent their way. Nobody was attending to the basic upkeep anymore. Water still worked fine, and the electricity was controlled automatically. However, there weren''t anybody making sure the trees were kept straight, that foliage would begin falling down on the streets. And nothing was stopping the grass from growing. Given that they were in optimal conditions for plant growth, things were not as pretty as they had been a few months ago. Though, if asked whether she would have been in the city three months ago or now, Cassandra would most likely choose now above all else. Few still had it in their heads to do any crimes, and anything reported was almost always petty things. The number of times she had been called about missing indoor cats was almost frightening. Yet there had been no murders, no gang violence, nothing that would require the big guns to come out. By global standards, the crime rate was close to utopian. If the city had numbered a current population of a few hundred more people, they would have ranked in the top ten of safest places on the earth. It was incredible, really. The secret to solving crime was just to make the whole population fifty years older than the national average. ¡­ Time had passed quickly after the initial high-pulse situation. One could have called it the highlight of her day. Cassandra called it what would require an extra twenty minutes of paperwork when she got back to base. Every other call of the day had been relatively plain. With the barebones crew, she had been delegated to some less¡­ serious situations. Helping people out of their closest after they got locked inside accidentally, helping do on-site medical help after burning their hands, and there was one call that implied that a kid had been slapped. The last one had turned out to be false, however, the real situation turning out to be a kid not getting her will and having a screaming fit over it. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. All in all, it had been a regular day for Cassandra. Nothing important. Nothing to write down in the history books, at the very least. It was all within her low expectations of a day job. And, that was what she was going for. Her job was to keep the peace. The higher lack of crime there was, the more Cassandra could know that she was doing a good job. When the most gruesome thing to happen to her the entire week was that an old lady threw a potted plant, there could be no reason to be angry at her job. Sure, they might have lacked numbers, but it was not like there was a real need for them anyway. "How long until my shift ends?" Cassandra asked as the automation turned the car into the police building¡¯s parking space. She could have checked it herself, the action taking nothing more than a few mental pushes. But¡­ making others do the hard work was much more satisfying. She would have to get accustomed to doing things like that as well since her eventual promotion was just around the corner. Or, so she liked to think. "Your shift will end in approximately twenty minutes if nothing requires you to stay on time for longer," the automation answered, looking at her briefly when answering. It just let Cassandra know yet again that those eyes were merely for show. She wouldn''t be surprised if the bucket of scrap just connected itself to the car cameras and used those for a better view. Her inner fear about robots taking over the world revealed enough for one day, Cassandra stepped out of the car the moment it stopped, not wanting to be in it for any longer. With a mental command, she set the automation on the task of offloading gear, making sure the car was locked, and then putting itself in its designated box. The correct term for those clunky squares was powering stations, but she just couldn''t get herself to call it that. It sounded as stupid as they looked. Which was very. Normally when walking inside a police station, Cassandra would enter a world of soft murmuring, people coming in-person to report events witnessed, and automations going around serving coffee. That was something she sorely lacked here, for there was close to no sounds at all. Even the broken ventilators had stopped clanking, scraping itself down with time to a point where nothing hit each other. Did she miss it? A bit. The silence was jarring after a while, her mind looking for all those distractions. The brain did not like silence, and hers was no exception to that rule. That''s why, with nobody around, she had to be the one making it all happen. Putting on the kettle, she started to pour herself yet another cup of tea. The last one had not been enjoyed, as she had needed to throw out most of the contents. It took a few minutes to get done, but that was more due to Cassandra¡¯s need for it to be a little slow. Flash-boiling the water was an option, but Jared of all people had discouraged it. According to the man, it would make the flavour taste a little off. Personally, the woman thought it was all superstition. But, then again, superstition had carried the man over to godly qualities of teas, so there was no way she would complain about it. With her tea prepared, she sat down at the table, ready to answer any calls people felt they needed to make. Since it was currently three in the morning, she sincerely doubted it. Yet¡­ stranger things had happened. Some just liked to call in when they were bored. While such acts did warrant fines, there was more than just one repeat offender in that apartment. Cassandra couldn''t understand it, honestly. Old people were just weird sometimes. A sip here and there got her through the mixture in the allocated twenty minutes quickly. Not that she left right on the clock. No, she actually waited ten minutes more than she needed to, not wanting to leave the position without anybody to answer. That had become a constant fixture at her job, really. Waiting a few minutes more, to see if her superior would come running. This was their shift, really, and they were supposed to come a few minutes early if possible. Which it was. Because there was nothing else they could do. Cassandra had never actually seen the third person at the station. He didn''t come on time, always forcing her to leave the position unsupervised so she could get some free time into her day. When speaking with Jared about it, always framing it as something she was concerned about, the man had just laughed it off. According to the worse-than-unattractive man, her boss never actually turned off the calls. He heard everything said, no matter what time it was. And when it was his time to take him, he would, no matter where he was or what he was doing. Jared probably took it as a statement of admiration. Cassandra saw it as a bloviated mess of an excuse. Still¡­ she did wait every night, hoping to catch a glance at just what the man looked like. She could have always taken a look at the man¡¯s profile but felt that to be beneath her. She would not settle for lesser quality, intent on seeing him with her own eyes. If that meant she had to sacrifice a few minutes every day for the chance, then so be it. And today was yet another failure in that aspect. While Jared might have been trustworthy, Cassandra just did not feel right about leaving the post unattended, no matter how much her boss would take from elsewhere. It was against so many regulations to do so, and that was before one took in the moral and ethical issues. Grabbing a sandwich from the shared refrigerator, Cassandra went to her room to enjoy the second dose of energy for the day. Since she was finally free for the day, she would have to catch up on some paperwork. And she supposed she could also do some future work, knowing that she thought about it. Prepare some forms and such. It would help her get into the mood for relaxation. Maybe do some much-needed stretches first, of course. One had to get into the right body feeling before such a thing could be done. But, first, that lunch of hers had her name on it, and that meant it was ready for any devouring on it. And, who was Cassandra, if she did not oblige. She had been getting- "Cass? You there?" Jared came in through the video, making a certain somebody groan in frustration. That shit-stain was supposed to be sleeping right now, and not bothering her while doing so. "Yeah," Cass answered after a few seconds. She needed those extra moments, else some unkind words would have slipped out. "Anything you need?" "Not me in particular, no," Jared said, a bit of frustration coming out. That was new. He always seemed so chipper. Must have been over his bedtime. "The boss wants you out again. We have another sighting to check out. He thinks this one might be it." Chapter 274: Return
Cassandra had never believed in the supernatural. She had never believed in ghosts, zombies, vampires, or whatever other stupid renowned beings that people whispered about. Most of the so-called creatures of the night had only been invented in the last century or so. Expecting them to have existed since time millennium was something of a far stretch. Even so, her boss must have been such a believer, when he continued to make her go out and visit all those places with the so-called sightings. In a way, it might have been fair. The first sighting had involved a break-in of sorts. One of the old warehouses with medical supplies had been raided. Nothing of worth was taken but a few pills. The only real evidence that somebody had broken in was the open door out the front, the few missing medical work, and an oddly silent alarm. That alarm had been supposed to alert just about everything and everyone around it in a ten-kilometre radius, yet there had not been a word out of it. The technicians didn''t know what had been going on with it. The code had worked just fine. It had¡­ gone on strike? Even so long after the fact, those words had seemed so foreign in the context of it. It had been called anomalous. And her boss had taken it in every wrong way possible, taking it as an apparent sign from the league of devils themselves. Through a few mandates, every alarm in the whole city had been geared to the police station, made to send a simple signal every minute. Whenever one of the alarms would fail to send in a signal, the boss would be alerted, and Cassandra would be sent out to investigate. Damn it, did she hate that fact. How many times had it been now? A little over twenty, at the very least. Each had made her come up empty-handed, nothing to show for it. Hours had been wasted over going the grounds. Never had so much of a blade of grass been pressed down. Cassandra was sure of it. She had checked more times than she was proud of. Being fully honest, she had had a small interest in the case herself. A silent alarm, not working as it was supposed to? Sounded fun, sounded interesting and sounded like something that had a reason behind it. By the current time, the latter point had been swallowed right back down. For everybody¡¯s eyes and interests, Cassandra thought there to be nothing. The first had been a fluke, an error in the machine happening as somebody robbed the warehouse. Looking through the alarm models, all the silent ones had been from the same manufacture and had been issued in the same years. A faulty production line, with a bug that only manifested after a specific time. An easy answer to everything. And¡­ her boss had denied the chance of it all, rejected the idea within a second of her putting it in. The only reason that she was even bothering to check all the locations out properly was that she was just so damn perfect. Even if some stupid orders came down, she followed them with the dignity that a cop needed to have, while showing the precision that all others would only hope to ever gain. It would change when she got promoted. Until then¡­ she had to follow along. Still¡­ it did get very annoying. Looking around, again and again, knowing there was nothing to find. It all seemed so pointless! Just rolling the rock up on the hill, just so that she could see it fall right back down to the ground. And screw the anecdote that came with that story! That idiot had no idea about happiness. Jared, that appeaser of all, had excused the boss for his actions. The man had it in his sights that the order perhaps had come down from above, that another branch had catched wind of the mysterious happenings. Maybe there was another case like it. Maybe the boss had been ordered to send somebody out each time. Who really knew? It wasn''t like she had been told. Communication might have been important and one of the police values on paper, but few of them actually remembered that fact. Transparency was apparently not that important to many. Yet another thing she would change up. "How long more until we get there?" Cassandra asked, getting bored with all her innocent nagging at her superiors. Everything she thought might have been true, but it was only true to her. And¡­ they would not be good to set out in the wild. She had to be Cass, the wonderful and utterly flawless police officer. That was the persona she had out in the open, the one she had cultivated for over a year. If she continued to think all those thoughts of rebellion, revolution, and redistribution of power, mainly to her but whatever, then there were no chances of promotion for her. People did not like it when somebody wanted to switch up the powers, even if it would benefit everybody. People were stupid like that. Cassandra just had to accept that, and that was exactly what she had done since the start, her true intentions never really being shown off to the others. They wouldn''t understand. She wanted the police to be glorious again, to have the image of protectors, of guardians that they once had. She wanted kids to want to be them, for adults to praise them, and for the elderly to love them. That was her dream, and there was nothing that would stop her from having it. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Thirty seconds before it comes into sight," the automation happily supplied, no different from the tone used a few hours earlier. Honestly, why had they not made any variance? It would have been so much better if they at least tried. Cassandra knew she had made that complaint so many times, but it was just so annoying to talk to a robot with pre-programmed answers. "I would advise that you begin preparations." "And I would advise that you heed my request about staying quiet until asked." God, she hated those things. When allowed to talk, it would blabber its mouth out her ears. It would just talk and talk and talk, no ends in sight. Most of the words had no point, no real end to them. It would just use verbal speaking to fill the void of silence, never really figuring out that silence was the one thing it was good at being. Still, the bucket of human ingenuity did have some form of a point. The standard procedure was to know everything about anywhere she would be heading. That meant that she would need a general overview of the floor plans, how the streets looked, and just which corners were perfect for hiding behind. Nothing had yet come to a shoot-out, but knowing where to duck behind was a good idea to get behind. Maybe that was the reason that it was so heavily enforced? Might have been. Cassandra just knew she could get behind it. Knowledge was power, and she intended to have all of it one day. And she would do it in a smart way as well. While not fully stated, the state expected her to look through the issued floor plans, to use them for everything and everyone. Personally, the woman found that stupid, those plans never taking in anything in the rooms. And on the few occasions they did, trusting them was close to true stupidity. No, she looked through the cameras. The things that were positioned at every corner in the whole city. Sure, some needed to turn and all, and there were perhaps a couple of blind spots, but it more than helped her get a view of what was actually important. School had taught her to exploit the environment to her advantage, and that was one subject that she had always excelled at it. Even now, as her eyes skimmed over the different feeds, the street angles, the lights, the everything helped her understand just how- ¡­ What was that? At first, Cassandra thought it was a smudge on one of the cameras, a small fraction of the side having some blurry moving on it. She wouldn''t have thought about it at all until she noticed it was the same on the next camera viewing the same direction. And the one after that as well. And the next also. That certainly made her attention. A visual bug, situated on one specific placement. If it had been up in the air, or on some patch of grass, she could have taken it as a peculiar error with upscaling, yet the place it happened made her wary. Because¡­ it was just about three meters away from the alarm that was supposed to have been weirdly silent. Just under it, in fact. With a narrowing of the eyes, Cassandra began to take the situation a bit more seriously. "Slow the car. Park close to here. We will be going the rest of the way on foot. Any actions must be done with the priority of absolute silence," Cassandra ordered, her eyes fluttering around at everything before them. The brain implant was going as fast at it could. Having checked off the height, it was clear that it was some kind of humanoid being obscured by some form of technology. Whether that be an automation or a human, she did not know. Height was under-average, however. What technology had the ability to obscure people out of sight? She knew of some clothes able to blind everything filming but never had she heard of such¡­ camouflage before. Nothing meant to stop cameras from filming them. Nothing like it sat on the market. It wasn''t ordinary camouflage either. While there might have been the chance of invisibility of the current level working, there was no chance of it being that. Even the shadow made by the humanoid was being blurred. That was something no clothing could have done without influencing the cameras. Just what was out there? Or who, Cassandra supposed. Somebody was most definitely there. That was different from all the times before. Never before had she seen this. Not once had the same effects come up. The alarms hadn''t¡­ No cameras had been pointed at the entrance, during the first break-in. It had been too far out of the city for the adjacent building to have had anything pointing its way. The technology could have been used then. It was possible that the incidents were connected in more ways than one¡­ Cassandra would have to call it in. Just like that, a message was sent to her boss. She hardly needed to solidify the idea before the signal had been put out. Police had emergency signals like that. Handy in a pinch, but hardly good for conferring anything more than her current location. ¡­ Looking at the camera, the blur was beginning to move a little to the side. It moved back and forth, never going too far away from the closed entrance or the alarm above it. Now was a good time to note that the blur was at a medicinal shop, something holding the more advanced versions of what had been scavenged during that first round. The people behind it were likely going after the supplies. Why? If they had the money for equipment, they should have had plenty to get a doctor or two. Was it something specific they were looking for? Maybe something that could only be gotten illegally, while still being present in the more expensive medicinal stores¡­ Cassandra had no clue. She only understood the fact that the figure opened the so-called door inside. A door that was still showing off its status as being locked down. That couldn''t have been an error created from time. No chance of it. This was intentional. And they were moving. There was no idea of how long they would stay inside. Even at the moment, Cassandra had no clue what they were doing inside. The cameras supposed to obey her every wish was not answering her commands. No rejection. Just a straight-up lack of signals. She could have sworn they worked fine just a few seconds prior. ¡®We are engaging. You go and flank the back exit. I will go through the main entrance,¡¯ Cassandra stated, already beginning to run. They were still a hundred meters away from the building itself, but that distance could be crossed in no time at all. She had a job to do, after all. And doing it perfectly was something she always did.
Troy had to hold a hand over his nose to stop himself from sneezing. Just what was with that as of late? Was he getting the sniffles or something? ¡®Focus on the task at hand, please,¡¯ Adam helpfully supplied, putting him back to the task at hand. Namely, robbing a store for all good it had. God, he had always wanted to say that. Chapter 275: Captured
Systems were great. Systems helped make everything understandable to the individual. Troy used systems constantly, just to make sure that he knew what he was doing. He had pre-planned reactions to specific things, having trained that reaction to happen over time. What would happen if he heard a shout? He would run without trying to figure out who shouted. If somebody fired off a weapon? He would run without trying to figure out who shot it. Running was a general strategy of his. There were systems in other ways, of course. At his bedside, he always made sure to put his clothes in a neat little pattern. It helped his body make the necessary movements without him ever having to think too much about it. Also helped make it all a little easier on him. Charlie and Dr Hale would probably never guess that this system existed, and that was perfectly fine, really. There was no real expectation for that to be so. This was for Troy. He had made it so that it would be easy for him specifically to understand. Who else would need to know what angle he liked his socks to be sitting at? It was thirty-eight and a half, but nobody ever bothered to remember it when told. But¡­ stores had it differently. They had items, services, and everything in between those two things that they needed to sell. And to make sense of it all, there needed to be a system that held it all together. A system that would allow it all to be readable to everybody. Not just the person making it. No, it took more than that. Every person walking in needed to be able to understand where everything was supposed to be located. This meant that specific genres of items were held in clusters, with nice, bright indicators showing off where they were. It made sense. That was how everybody did it. Well, everybody but those who decided on vomiting their entrails onto the floor design of the store that Troy was stood in. Who had decided that all of everything needed to be spread out everywhere? Maybe there was some viable marketing tactic about blending it all together to make the customers look around more, but at this point, it was just more infuriating than anything else. How long had Troy now spent looking for one single item? Two whole minutes! It was an empty store, nobody in it but him. He should have been able to get it within mere seconds, yet the place was just so full of itself that it needed to make him take laps around the place. Maybe it would have been easier to find if Charlie had been a bit more specific about what it looked like. That would have helped a little, perhaps. ¡®Looks like a cylinder but is closer to a square.¡¯ How is that possible? It inst, and Troy was expected to find exactly that. "Seen anything like it?" Troy asked, more than a little stressed about the time being taken. Adam must have been too, seeing as the storage unit was increasing its temperature. It was still on the ordinary levels of heat, but soon it would have to rise a little higher. The little guy was the real backbone of the mission. In and out, with next to no real description of the target. If he had gone alone, there would have been no real chance of him getting in. Yet, with the help of a certain somebody, they had been able to enter without making a sound. Not that it would help for long, seeing as somebody had to notice the quiet, yet it should have been more than enough of a delay for them to get the needed item. ¡®I am still looking. Would it be possible for you to- Nevermind. The location has been reached,¡¯ Adam sent back to the man, cutting himself in his original message. That was a slight issue with an enhanced sense of time. One could draw a whole other conclusion while the first one hardly had begun to leave one¡¯s lips. Troy wished he had that problem. And as a few more seconds passed, he wished that it was the only one he had. After a few head-turns, Troy located just what had made the AI pause, as if the target had been found. It turned out to be a poster for the item, which had a nice, little finger pointing down to its location, hidden behind one of the item shelves. No issue for him, though, as he was just able to walk to the side and see the rewards for his scavenging. ¡­ The reward of the day was a disappointment. And a bit of anger, perhaps, as that empty space was seen. Just below where he had been able to see, the poster had a sticker on it that notified any customers nearby that the product had temporarily sold out. Sold. Out. That implied that somebody had bought up the entire store supply of a product that the average person wouldn''t have any idea what to do with, much less ever have the chance of using. In his many years of life, Troy had only met a handful of people who would ever be able to make use of a device used for improvised, internal, mechanical repair, and one of those people had tried to kill not that long ago. Just how screwed up was the city, if there were so many whoever thought they would need such a thing? "Well, we are most definitely fucked now," Troy said, the anger of disappointment already beginning to leave him. He understood there was nothing to do about it, no matter how much he wished to change the result. "Did Charlie mention anywhere else in this city it might be? Cause I think we¡¯ve hit most of them by now." ¡®There is no reason to be influenced emotionally right now. Take a deep breath so that we can move effectively,¡¯ Adam said calmly as if Troy had not already been in the mindset of doing just that. Sometimes, the guy could hit emotions right where they needed to be punctured. Other times¡­ he was blinder than a drunk monkey wielding a rusty knife. Not the greatest tool in the shed, so to say. Nevertheless, Troy did as asked of him, filling his lungs with the sweet, sweet mixture of the atmosphere. Even if the inside of the store was a bit on the stale side, he could enjoy it with no complaints attached. Just the faint fragrance of the grass outside was more than enough to make up for it. One would have thought that spending so many weeks outside with it would have made him adjusted to the smell, yet it was more his stay at the facility which had caused him to adore it so much. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. "Do you think there might be some of them in the storage?" Troy asked out loud, as he looked towards the door to the back. He had noted that the sticker had been a tad on the old side. Enough time should have passed for the business to have received a new shipment of wares. And the lack of people would explain why there weren''t anybody bringing it out¡­ ¡®I see no reason not to check. But please do hurry,¡¯ Adam answered, hurrying them along just as he always did. It was understandable, honestly. Who wanted to stay in the city for more than they had to? It would take one second where the jammer would be paused before the whole militia would be going after them. Their only advantage was that they lacked their coordinates. That could be lost the moment Troy messed up. Adhering to the AI¡¯s advice, Troy moved in a small jog through the store, making sure his footfalls were quiet all the while. The door to storage had a pin-code attached to the handle, but Adam was able to make quick work of it. Once again could Troy appreciate the world of cables and shoddy security procedures? What would he ever do without them? The inside of the back storage was¡­ close to disappointing. There wasn''t any evidence of the needed items being there, but likewise, there wasn''t evidence that they weren''t. Everything was in large, grey boxes, easily transportable in containers. Nobody had done anything about getting anything out of its outer layers. Nobody had been here, so that might have been why. Troy only understood that he was getting more screwed by the second he wasted staring. Getting close to one of the boxes, one miracle came by. There were lists! Each box had a small piece of paper attached at the top, neatly noting down what items were in what. A good fifty different things sat in each, but Troy luckily didn''t need to look through the names each time. He had Adam for such things. And¡­ he just went to it, looking at each box separately. The AI never sent a message out or anything. Troy wouldn''t need it anyway. He understood that he would be told if the little guy needed more time to read or if he had found what they were looking for. Only¡­ it was a tad slow. It might only have taken a second to look at one box¡¯s contents, but that mattered little when there were hundreds of the bastards. It was clear that the store-front was only for the more inexpensive items. The real products were hidden in boxes, any thief being unsuccessful purely due to the hardships in finding the right boxes. It was okay, though. As long as they were quick, it would work out. Troy just needed to- ¡®We have been spotted. Prepare to flee,¡¯ Adam sent.
"What? Already? How?" Could be heard coming in from the store. Cassandra had just stepped inside, surveying the area for possible locations where one could hide. It was harder to find places one couldn''t, really. The entire place was much like a maze, one person never able to see more than five per cent of the total area. It was perhaps effective for some business, but it was the most annoying function that Cassandra could have ever had the misfortune of meeting. Where had the voice come from? The walls were not absorbing the sound, making it echo from everywhere at once. Cassandra ignored most of it, making her inner system do the dirtiest part of the work. Where was it strongest¡­ there. From the floor-plans supplied, the voice needed to have come from the side. A place where the store did not reach. But the building was still a part of the location, making it out of bounds where people usually were when shopping in the store. Whoever had walked inside before her had gone out where the items were stored. A smart choice for anybody wanting to rob the place, though also peculiar. Was there something specific they looked for? Also¡­ those questions. The voice was young, male, early twenties at the oldest. No real accent either. It was somebody who had lived in the country for a while, at a minimum. Though, it wasn''t that local. There was still a tone not heard normally. And then, for the final question, who was the young man talking to? Had she overlooked a blur before? "Rush or hide? Of course, I can do both! We have this stuff for a reason, you know," the young voice continued. There was an argument going on. Cassandra was not yet sure what it was about. She had a vague premonition, however, that she would have to use some force within the next few minutes. From what recordings she could gather of the inside, she knew there weren''t many entrances to the back-side, and those that were there weren''t that far apart. They could all be seen at the same time, in fact, and Cassandra understood she would face somebody on the other side of one of the doors. Didn''t take a genius to figure out which they had gone through either. The door used had been left open, still swaying slightly from an imbalance. Though¡­ was the person still in there? It had been half a minute since the original exclamation, yet nothing more had been sent out afterwards. Had a detector been set up at the entrance? Cassandra hadn''t been able to detect anything, yet that could have been explained away as similar cloaking as before. Welp, there was only one real way to find out. Bringing out her favourite cylinder, she moved inside the storage space. There was no shout to show off where she was. She didn''t really think she needed to do anything like that to be noticed. The boxes had been touched, yet none had been opened up. How peculiar. Looking around, Cassandra could see one of the labes one of them still not having found its balance point. It had been touched within the last minute. Just where- From the side of the store entrance, a figure ran through. Cassandra only had time to swirl around, barely catching a look at their soles before they disappeared into the store. Yet, she knew where they were and that was the most important fact of all. With her weapon in hand, she sprinted out of the storage space, following right after one of the thieves. A message was sent to the automation, ordering it to enter the building and search for the latter. Cassandra would take care of this one herself. Feet pounded against the floor. The tight corners made it hard to get anything but a glance at the thieves'' back. But she was gaining on him! Each turn let her get one step closer, one better look at the person she was chasing. Damn, they were fast. With enough corners, they began reaching the outside, the entrance that the shoppers would normally use. But! There was a catch here. A detail that Cassandra used for herself. The final stretch was without cover. Sacrificing the long-term for the short-term, a jump was used to close in on the distance temporarily. It was enough to get her over to the final corner. From there, she took aim, letting her fingers be guided by the brain implant, and shot at the thief who thought he could get away. It hit him in the upper thigh. He got three more steps before the leg became jerky, stopping him from running anymore. Having been moving at full tilt, it made him fall face flat on the road. Cassandra inwardly winced at that, knowing she would have to take some of the blame for that. Nevermind that. She had caught one. Though, he was being feisty, crawling towards the grass, and not paying attention to the fact that one of his legs did not work. Would she have to shoot again? Chapter 276: Restrained
"Quit it with the crawling now," Cassandra said, getting over to the young man. With a hood on and his stomach down, it was impossible to see any facial features. Though, that didn''t stop her from imagining it was a strained one, trying to fight against the impossible foe of advanced sedatives. They were strong-willed, at the very least. Most would have given up by then. Maybe that other shot would be worth it. "You''re just making it harder for yourself." "Not sure that''s the best of ideas," the young man muttered under his breath. That made Cassandra tense slightly. Sending the signal through to the automation, it had not yet found anything. The other thief was still at large. Yet, the man here was speaking to the other as if they were mere meters apart. Her eyes narrowed. Taking off the hood, a head full of long hair filled her peripheral. However, Cassandra paid no attention to the length, looking instead at one of the young man¡¯s ears. An earpiece sat inside it. While the model was not known on the market, it was clearly meant as communications. They were currently talking. Another warning sent out. If the two thieves could talk no matter the distance, there was no telling if there were others in the area. She would have to get another batch of automations out of the station if this continued. This was becoming quite the operation now. First off, however, there was one task that she needed to get taken care of. Identification of the suspect. With all that hair, no features could be seen. And it wasn''t like the young man was making an effort to do anything. Obeying Cassandra¡¯s words, the man hardly breathed. It was like he was trying to blend in with the scenery. It was scary how effective it was. That couldn''t be allowed to go on. Taking a hold of the suspect''s shoulder, she turned his body over. There was no resistance, allowing her to see the- Cassandra had to rebalance herself, as she half-stumbled back, more shocked than anything else. What she had expected to see was a face. What she got was a blurry, glitchy mess that hurt her head to look at. Sputterings of colour came out and made the environment seem blurry as well. She actually felt a bit queasy from the ordeal. "Face to the ground. Now!" Cassandra ordered. She couldn''t even see the previous damage from falling to the ground. She could see no identifiable markers at all! Just how was this happening. The young man obeyed silently, getting back on his stomach and lying back down. It took the products of years of dedicated acting for her not to sigh in relief. It was something to see visual bugs and glitches on screens. It was another thing entirely to see them in real life, all realistic and ready to take a stab at her. Only¡­ it was not really real. There was not a chance that what she saw was a product of reality. No, it was fabricated afterwards, made to look like it did because of an outside influence. She could only guess that it was the same influence as what had caused the initial blurring on the cameras. If she had seen with her eyes, she would have seen the man¡¯s face in full detail. She could have seen the crevices in the skin, the colour of his eyes, and overall detail as perfect as the individual placement of each hair. But, there was no such thing as her eyes anymore. One part of her job was to get most of the front part replaced with artificial parts. It allowed for a detailed overview to show up easily, while also not having the negatives that the brain implant usually had when showing off its visual aspects. However, it did also have other negatives. While most could be negated with practice, there was nothing that could stop the artificial from being what it was. It would never be organic, always able to be influenced from the outside. That meant that it was utterly useless against the cloaking, at least in some form. The details were being kept away from her. It was of no matter in the end. Even if she could not see his face herself, she had other methods at hand. It would require for her to transport the man back to the station, though, and that would have to wait for some time. A look at what the automation had looked through showed that the other thief was not in the storage room anymore. Well, at least not if the man still had a pulse. One thing that could not easily be hidden was the blood that circulated in the veins. And it made enough sound to be located. The sound of blood was louder than what one would think, and it was there that it could be exploited. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Though, that left no need for her to wait. Even if the automation would perhaps find the accomplice at some point, waiting around for too long would invite outside trouble to pop in. As of now, there was still no read on if they were part of a larger group or not. Getting over to the man, Cassandra got a bit more down, getting close enough that her speaking voice was louder than it had any right to be. "Your accomplice is near. If you make them surrender now, I can promise reduced sentencing for cooperating with us. If they continue to hide, the length will increase indefinitely. Make your decision now, or face the punishment I don''t doubt you deserve." It was a good old technique aimed at pressuring the person into making a quick decision that would be hated in the future. Cassandra didn''t care about the long-term, however, just wanting it to end swiftly. But, it did seem to have great effects on the man, the muscles tightening up for the barest of moments. Even if she was physically incapable of seeing the man¡¯s face, she could still guess that he was trying hard to resist the offer. The young man had already been caught, after all. Surely, the sacrifice of a comrade was not too bad, if it meant that he would get away a bit easier, right? That''s how the woman considered the situation at least. Criminals were selfish people, only thinking of themselves most of the time. Her ears picked something up. It was a small rustling, as something moved through the bushes on the side of the road. They were on the outskirts of the town, after all, so the tree-line was pretty close by. One could hide in there if they wanted to, and Cassandra would have been incapable of seeing them. One positive of the artificial eyes, however, was the greater attributes it held within. While not too usable most of the time, the colder temperature allowed her to get a better reading on the local life signs. While her eyes might not have been able to see any beings, the air around it would spell the location out easily enough. And¡­ nature had once again worked against humanity. Not that far away, thirty meters at the most was a batch of air unusually warm. It came out in waves, matching the breathing pattern of a mildly stressed human being. How unusual. It was almost as if there was a certain other thief hiding out there. ¡®Go out through the back entrance again. The second thief has been located outside,¡¯ Cassandra sent along, while also giving an approximate location. The automation confirmed silently, a green ping sent back this time. Better than a thumbs-up emoji, the woman supposed, reading her weapon yet again. It would take a moment before she could get into position, but that did not mean she couldn''t be busy with her- "Run!" the young man shouted. His voice was sent directly towards the road, yet the power behind it made it echo off the walls. That was not good. That was an order. What if- Cassandra¡¯s head flipped back to the other thieves location. The breathing was gone, the criminal had begun to run. Yet¡­ she could still hear it! With it being so out in the open, she could even catch up. And so, she began the sprint of a lifetime, beating a speed record set a century ago. Her acceleration might not have been within the top percentile, but the common worker could not come close to matching her speed. Much less would a mere criminal match up to her standards. The automation was not far behind her, picking up speed as well. But, the advantage of an earlier set-off was what held it off her. Likewise was it that which stopped her from catching up to the thief so easily? Too much distance had been created early on. Yet, it did not matter how long it took. The air told where they ran, and Cassandra would follow diligently. There was nothing that would stop her. She could run until the day was over, and still have energy left to get herself back to the car. If needed, she could make the automation drag both of them back. It had been fully charged up, after all, and somebody needed to make sure it used it all up at some point. Each time a foot hit the floor, a branch would be stepped over, cracking in the process. The ground was not made to be run on. Nature had not made it so. To many, this would be seen as a disadvantage. Cassandra took it as the prey being stopped as well. And¡­ she had trained for this environment. While having dedicated most of her time to being the perfect city-cop, even she had made sure that the forests were something she would strive for. The chase continued for five more minutes until the thief succumbed to the variety that came from a full-on sprint. The air became warmer, and the thick forest began to let her see more of the person she would but so many fines on for wasting her time. It had been a good chase, and she had felt her pulse rise because of it, but even she would have to give them a piece of her- It was a deer. It stood stock-still, staring with wide eyes at her as it breathed heavily. Cassandra had been chasing a deer for over five minutes, causing it to be extremely tired. She had been running after an animal for five minutes. She had wasted five minutes chasing a fucking deer. The automation chose that moment to catch up, jumping over a particularly large branch before stopping in place right by Cassandra¡¯s side. "Are we taking the deer in? If so, I do believe we have to take into consideration that human laws do not apply-" "Shut up," Cassandra ordered, before beginning to jog right back. She did not want to hear a word out of that scrap-bucket. Getting back to the road, the woman found¡­ a road. Now, that was expected, of course. What was not expected was the lack of a human laying on it. Looking around, there was no sign of anybody having crawled anywhere. And after looking through everything in a hundred-meter radius, Cassandra had to say one thing. "Had one. Thought I could get two. Lost both." What a great day to be alive. Not. Locking up the store, the ride back to the station was spent in speculative anger. Just how had the first gotten away? Chapter 277: Frozen
Who did that woman think she was, drugging him with such inferior products? Honestly, the quality of the police had fallen to new lows, in Troy¡¯s eyes. Here he had been, being the god and cop-fearing man that he was supposed to be, and then he successfully outsmarts a trained officer through what he still saw as the most stupid of plans he had ever heard. "I still can''t believe that actually worked," Troy muttered, giving himself a moment to rest against one of the nearby trees. Even if the sedative isn''t working anymore, the human body was still working against him. One could only jog for so long before it became a problem. Pulling out the needle had been the hardest of his quandaries, really. The muscle tensing as the long rod was pulled out of him¡­ it made him shiver in disgust. The feeling of something inside of him was not on his list of desires for any day of the week. Much less did he enjoy that needle, filled with that awful stuff. It hit hard in the start, yes, but everything after had been a pure act of his. Troy was still a bit proud of the last shout he made. Really did seal the deal on that trade. ¡®Did I not say it would work?¡¯ Adam questioned, the AI sounding a little feisty. And, yes, he had said it would work. Even though the ordeal, Troy had to bear through him being assured again and again that it would work. Halfway through, he had begun to doubt who it was that was being reassured in reality. "You say a lot of things," Troy threw back, his lungs slowing down its intake of air. The decreasing temperatures were making it hard on him. The winter had not yet come around, but it was nearly there. Just their luck for being in an area capable of snow. The meteorologists had not yet sent out the predictions, but nothing was looking good. It was too cold for the current time. "Doesn''t mean that all of them are true." Getting back up from the helpful tree, Troy tried to get himself back into the previous speed. His legs were not happy about it, but he had learned to deal with that minor pain. It had lessened as of late, actually. Perhaps the constant running around was finally doing him some good? God, he hoped it did. No way was he going to accept another batch of weight loss. ¡®Every prediction I have made throughout our journey has been correct ninety-five per cent of the time. Not trusting in my words will only hamper future progress,¡¯ Adam stated in his defence. It had been used a couple of different times now. The AI must have thought that repeated information made him seem more informed. In actuality, it just made Troy ignore his defence even more. "And the times they don''t are where we are in big trouble," Troy said. One of those faulty predictions had been during their first scavenging run into the city. Adam had thought himself a worthy opponent of one of the local security alarms. Troy had tried to push back against the idea but had fallen into obedience when the rewards were mentioned. That had been one of the few times where Troy had run all the way back without ever pausing. Not the most fun of times, but it did teach the lesson of willpower playing into endurance. And, of course, that the AI could be extremely wrong at times. Though, it was during those first couple of runs where they learned to find workable alarms. As it turned out, some of the older models ran on closed connections. That was Adam¡¯s area of expertise, one could say, and that had allowed them to get in without too much trouble. If they actually got anything out of the ordeals or not? That was a whole other topic. One that Troy didn''t like to think too much about. ¡®My factoring has been adjusted heavily. If we take away the first data-inputs, you will see that the track-record is much better.¡¯ This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡®So if we remove all the evidence against you, then there isn''t that much evidence against you?" Troy suggested as a rewording. ¡®My words exactly,¡¯ Adam confirmed, possibly thinking of it as a good thing. That certainly caused a bark of laughter out of the man. As one would have had it, Troy and the crew were not really situated in the city. That had been one of the ground rules established during their first few days out on the run. It might have been seen as a needed act, seeing as they had certain equipment that they needed every few days at the minimum. Still, both requirements had been filled until now. As one would have had it, there was a surprising amount of medical equipment lying around in abandoned lots. Not the newest, but most definitely something that Charlie had been able to work with. It had helped make many things so much easier, even if the improvements were only temporary. If only they had been able to stay at some of the older ones. But, no, they had to keep moving. They had to, else they would be captured before they could get a moment to blink. And¡­ all that luck that they had had at their disposal since the near start had finally begun to run out. As they got more away from the centre of the country, the scarcer any working technology became. People were more greedy with their devices out here, and there was nothing that could be used while still being far from the city. But still, they had to move on. They had to work with what they had. And so¡­ Troy had to get out of their hiding place and run to the city in the hopes of finding what they needed. They had enough pills, bandages, and temporary cures to last them a year, but it would never hold it off for long. Charlie had said he could delay it close to permanently if he had access to some of the equipment back at his base. So, that had been what Troy searched for every night. Each journey yet had been without luck. Maybe the next one would be better. ¡­ God, he hated the cold. With all his clothes on, the only real parts of his body being hit by it was his hands and face. Yet even they felt the coldness worthy of whole-body exposure. Troy had never been a kid to go outdoors at this time of year. Maybe that was why he felt so damn cold. He just knew that he hated it. There wasn''t even snow dropping yet, and he was still going around looking like a frozen popsicle. ¡®I would advise that you pick up the pace. You will be sick if you continue enduring this coldness,¡¯ Adam stated. Troy knew that he was just being helpful, but that little thing couldn''t really understand how it was having a body. When it was cold, the muscles began to stop working properly. They would still move when called for. It was just¡­ they would be a bit more sluggish about it. There wouldn''t be as much power, as much jazz behind each swing. Troy honestly doubted he could properly run now. Even jogging was hard for him. How long was left before he would reach the house? The road he ran on was hardly what the name suggested, but at least it served as an alright identifier. The closer it looked like it was properly taken care of, the closer he was to reach the house. Currently, the so-called path looked like nothing more than a place with slightly less grass¡­ That equalled that there would be more than a few minutes of jogging left. How nice. ¡­ Troy picked up the pace a bit. He could feel the cold in his bones now. His fingers had started getting a bit paler than he liked them to be, and the sensation in them had almost disappeared entirely. It was only a great thing that he could still feel pressure with. If only he had some pockets to keep them warm with. But, he supposed one should not have been too choosy when running around in stolen clothes. One of their earliest adventures had been to get a wardrobe of discardable clothing, to stop anybody from putting their style in as a description. They were wanted, after all. No reason to make it easier for possible bounty hunters. Finally, after the longest of times, Troy did reach their humble abode. Through the front window, Troy could see the light from the fireplace. They had one of those this time around. A great luxury. If only it also held up in the other regards. The house was older than it looked, having been abandoned for a good part of the decade. Water still flowed in the pipes, but it was not clean enough to drink. And food¡­ they made do with others sources. There had been a good deal of canned foods, but none of them had been touched yet. A shame, honestly. He had always wanted to try pickled meat. Walking inside, Troy got off his outer layer of clothing. It was hard to do, his fingers feeling stiff from the sudden temperature change. Not that he minded it too much. The heat was always acceptable in his eyes. There were no calls from the inside about him entering, no greetings shouted. It was silent, just as he remembered it. It almost made Troy want to sigh. But he didn''t. Instead, he walked into the living room, prepared to see a sorry sight. Chapter 278: Return
As noted before, the light place was as lit as ever. Early on, they had found the house stocked full of usable lumber, ready to be burned for their delight. Troy himself would have preferred modern heating, but that had been in short supply as of late. At the current point, he was just happy not freezing to death. "How are you two holding up?" Troy asked, trying to set the mood high for the others. Charlie wasn''t smiling. Dr Hale¡­ she hardly even looked in his direction. That was fair, Troy supposed. She was hardly awake right now. She was hardly awake ever. All weak, needing to rest at any moment that she could get away with it. Their journey through the country had been slowed because of that. Even now, she was forced to a strained slumber on the long, black sofa, Charlie sitting on the floor next to it, watching over her to make sure that she was doing alright. As the only one between him and Troy who could perform anything medically related, that had been his role for most of their time. He would care for Dr Hale, and Troy would go out and find what was needed to do just that. "Did you find it?" Charlie asked, not taking the time to do a proper greeting. He just wanted to know if it was a success or not. Charlie was supposed to smile at him. That had been what he used to do. He used to smile so much. He used to laugh, joke around, and mess with the people he was with. Now¡­ now he just sat by somebody he hoped to protect, afraid of what would happen if they perished as well. Troy knew that much just from his ears. He never admitted he couldn''t sleep through the muttering, the crying that came every time Charlie thought he was the only one awake. The man was not what he used to be, a shell that only looked to be there. A facade that broke away at the slightest touch. What he would give to be able to tell him that it was okay, that he didn''t need to act emotionless when with others. "It was sold out weeks ago," Troy began. Already at that, Charlie looked away, seemingly satisfied with the answer. The young man continued his explanation, however. The room needed sound, and he would be the one to bring it. There was no desire to know how long Charlie had spent in silence, just staring at somebody who was barely alive at this point. "It wasn''t on the shelves. There might have been some in the back storage of the store, however. I didn''t get a good look at them." That turned the man¡¯s gaze back on him. They were not angry, per se. Only¡­ focused. That was the closest that could be gotten to it, though. Charlie did not seem to focus on many things nowadays, his eyes glazing over at the slightest bit of routine. How many of his actions were due to his body doing them automatically? How much would be lost the moment that the body stopped providing help? Troy had worried about weight loss himself, yet he knew that the larger of the two had it harder. The muscle had started to disappear by a bit, the arms starting to look a bit thinner than before. Even his face had begun to grow more shallow. He wasn''t eating right. "Why did you not look for them? You realise what will happen if you don''t find what we need," Charlie said. The man would likely begin to argue about him going out there and looking for them himself. Troy had refused to let that happen from the early beginning. One tour had been enough to make him and Dr Hale agree on that. With one of the three out for the count right now, Troy would be outnumbered in his voting. Adam supported the matter in Charlie¡¯s favour. The AI believed that the man could identify it better himself, that it would be easier for him to do it. The two had discussed the matter so many times in private. Troy had tried to make him understand that he would be too recognizable, that it would take one look before they would be located by the more powerful hunters after them. The first tour should have been proof enough for that. Still, the AI saw it as a worthy chance, that the rewards would be worth the risk. He was too stubborn to realise the danger. He did not understand the consequences, blinded by simple greed. "I know what will happen if I don''t hurry, yes," Troy said, forcing himself to not raise his voice. It would make more sense for both of them to share information before they began to get emotional. Or, for Troy to get emotional. Charlie would never do that in front of him. Even now, that stare was the most he had gotten out of him in the last couple of days. "But, I was stopped from staying there too long. I was almost caught by the cops." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. A hiss came from behind Charlie. Both turned their attention to the source, Dr Hale having trouble getting up from her lying position. She had trouble with most movements as of late. Without being asked, the two others helped get her into a more comfortable sitting position. Neither had to be asked to do it. After so long, they knew the movements on how to do it, only holding her up in places where it wouldn''t hurt. Troy was not happy about having had to learn it. How long she had suffered¡­ It was akin to torture for her. And there was not a moment she showed it on her face. "Did you not say that Adam could stop the alarms from revealing your intruding?" Dr Hale questioned, having gathered breath for the question. Her voice was a bit on the raspy side as if her throat had dried up dust. No amount of liquid helped quench the apparent thirst. Troy was sure about that. They had tried too many times to count. "Did the AI overestimate its own abilities?" "Adam¡¯s abilities are not in question right now. He said nothing would make the alarms utter the slightest warning to anybody, and there was nothing wrong with those words. Anyway, if that was the problem, we would have been caught a long time ago," Troy answered in a long draw. It was nice having a third person to talk to. It brought up the mood a bit. Even cutting words meant that emotion was filled in. "Something has been changed. They are beginning to catch on somehow." "Maybe you were too slow?" Dr Hale suggested, taking a long couple of blinks. A few tears came down her face. Not from pain, but from the body protesting anything but rest. Her flesh was tired, and it did not like the simple act of talking. "No amount of silence is going to stop regular patrols through town." That was an idea. Speed was key in their operations. Normally, the two would have spent less than a minute or two inside each building. Here, they have spent close to ten. Troy had been forced into making sure that it wasn''t there. And¡­ there had been slight trouble with the door. Adam had said that he needed to make sure nothing got out while he did it, causing them to have more than a bit of an initial delay. "Maybe¡­ I will have to remember it tomorrow when I go back," Troy said, sneakily putting in his intentions for the next day. If he was lucky, they would be too tired to do anything but ignore- "Oh, no you will not be doing that. It has too many strings attached," Dr Hale said, shooting down any shot that the man had for himself. Likewise, Charlie did not look happy about the idea. Well, he never looked happy about anything. It was more the small shake of the head that made his opinions clear. Anything that would bring a high chance of them getting down was out of the question. Not to say the man wouldn''t have done it himself gladly. Troy hated that idea. He hated a lot of things as of late. He hated how Charlie was so silent, so stoic, so much like the emotionless people he met in his youth. He hated how Dr Hale kept her cutting edge as she slowly withered away, becoming the martyr for their escape. Yet¡­ even that was beginning to be ruined. They hadn''t really escaped, no matter how much it looked like it. That was what Charlie always said. He reminded them of that fact nearly every day they sat in the small house in the middle of nowhere. Was it really them that needed to be reminded of that opinion? Or did the large man need to delay his breakdown for just a bit more? "There is still a chance that what we need is in there," Troy replied, trying to make the two others see reason. Not all the boxes had been checked. If they went inside again, this time without being caught, he was sure that they could all be looked through in time. If the item was there, they would be able to make everything that much better. "It is one of the last places that can possibly have it. Not looking through fully is the epitome of stupidity." "Stupidity is what you are showing off," Dr Hale said back, having to cough from once again raising her voice. Blood fell down from the side of her mouth. Charlie dabbed at it with a piece of tissue. He was prepared for it. He had cared for the woman for a long time now. "If we lose you, Troy, nothing can be done. If you are taken in, we lose the one thing we have done all this for," Charlie stated, studying Mara¡¯s face to make sure there was no more blood coming up her throat. Choking in her sleep was one danger, the woman too weak to notice while not awake. Constant vigilance. Sometimes, Troy had to look over her, so that Charlie could sleep for a few hours. It was hard work, with it just being the two of them. Adam couldn''t do it, after all. How fun it was, risking everything every time he went out. Troy had to scavenge, had to search for the one thing they needed while knowing that him being captured would spell doom for the two others. The moment he was captured was the moment everything was lost. The only real defence he had was the fact he could not be easily identified. Especially not with Charlie¡¯s tech to help him along the way. It helped obscure his face and likeness from everything in the city, safe for the people within it. That was one fear he had now, actually. The police officer had seen his face, if only for a brief second. Would she be able to identify him? "I understand," Troy said, giving up on the idea. He could still do it if he so desired. It wasn''t like the two others could do anything to really stop him. He was the only one who left the house. But¡­ he wasn''t that kind of person. They needed to find it. It had been talked about already. Without it, Dr Hale would not survive getting over the border. Charlie doubted she would really survive going anywhere at all. If needed, they would try another border city, but the chances of her surviving were even slimmer at that. Troy needed to find it. He needed to stay strong. After saying good-night to the two others, the young man grabbed a bit of an MRE before going over to his sleeping place. It was where he kept the pillow he called a bed. Chapter 279: Traitor
When Cassandra arrived back at the station, Jared was ready to welcome her back. The man did not look too happy, likely suffering from a lack of sleep. That had become understandable. From her perspective, it was her free time. From his, he was supposed to have been asleep for a few hours now. Getting out of the vehicle, she once again ordered the automation to take care of everything. It could park the car in the right spot just as well as her, so there was no reason to oversee it. "You put in a lot of faith in them," Jared commented, looking over at the automation diligently putting away all the gear. Cassandra had brought some of the specialised handcuffs for the occasion. As they were not part of the standardised vehicle cache, it was protocol to put them away after each journey. Yet another task that was best fit for those who could not complain about it. "Letting them handle the more precious equipment could fit us a hole in our budget. Steady hands are required for the handling of those things, you know." "They are not capable of having anything but having steady hands," Cass pointed out with a tired smile. Cassandra would have preferred to say something else but forced herself back into the role. Even if Jared did not seem to like what she did, there was nobody who said that she needed to care about his opinion. "Their design is the best that it could possibly be, and that''s why they can take care of our position." Jared made a noise that might have been a sign of agreement. The bags under his eyes were noted. The man clearly was not in the mood for any type of conversation, seeing as he just wandered inside the building. Cassandra followed, knowing that it was likely what was expected of her. A simple request would have worked just as fine, but she wasn''t going to complain about it. The normally quiet abode was anything but. From the call-room, Cassandra could hear a certain voice talk in quick tones. The radio they used frequently might have made it hard to point out specific people, yet this one was as clear as day. The deeper overtones were hard to ignore, after all. "I do not care what you think about it. We have people bearing specialised equipment in our city, and we have nothing that we can¡­ Hello? Damn it!" If it had been a couple of decades ago, Cassandra would have likely heard a phone being forced back down on a table, the person holding it likely having suffered head trauma purely through blood pressure. And that was only what she imagined from hearing it all through the wall. Seeing the actual side was something else. "Hey, boss. I got her, just like you asked," Jared said, looking too tired to do anything but be civilised. Did the man seemingly forget the angry shouting heard a few seconds before? Did he just not care? Had lack of sleep caused a certain danger detector to shut down permanently? The fingers were white as they pressed down on the table, as the man Cassandra had called her boss looked over at them. His eyes were slightly wide as if he had trouble keeping himself from shouting. The hair was a bit unkempt, and the man really needed to shave that monstrosity of a beard he had stuck on his face. All in all, it was a better appearance than what she had been expecting. At least there weren''t any weird smells permanenting the room, no weird senses tingling that would make anybody run. If the stressed look was ignored, the man did look close to average in the normal spectrum. "... Good. Do sit down. Both of you," the boss ordered them, pointing at the two chairs on the other side of the table. No questions were asked, Cassandra only wondering if she would be able to get another cup of tea. The last two attempts had been a failure, and since Jared was already up, there was a chance that he would brew a pot for them. Though¡­ she would have to wait a bit before bringing up that point. Maybe later. Sitting down firmly, Cass sat with a straight back, looking as attentive as she could possibly be. Jared looked ready to fall asleep, having positioned his elbows on the table to remain awake. It looked like a hard task. "Going through what has been reported, it seems that my assumptions were correct," the boss said¡­ Cassandra did not like calling him the boss. He had a name, though she had no clue what it was. But, that was where the wonders of modern record-keeping came in. With but a thought, his whole profile came into view in her eyes. "We do have a couple of thieves in this wonderful city of ours. Any objections to this statement?" Justin Grunwald. Not the most common of names. Most surprising was the fact that it was a family name. The man had not changed it himself. Cassandra wondered why. Few would be able to look him in the eyes while using it. Maybe that was why Jared just called him the boss. "I thought not," Justin said. Cassandra had hardly even noticed he said anything, trying to decide what to categorize his words as. Calling him Justin felt way too personal, and she did not want to be associated with him more than he already was. Maybe his last name instead of the word. Mr Grunwald¡­ nope. Nope. No way. She wasn''t going to be using that. Not in this or the next life. "But¡­ it turns out that the governing bodies do have an objection to it. They refuse to even acknowledge this problem of ours." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Huh? Cassandra listened in on that last part. No acknowledgement was one of her larger fears in life, so her ears were honed in on the word and its usage. The so-called higher-ranking people were not doing anything about it? No¡­ that wasn''t what had been said. It just meant that they weren''t sure of its existence yet. "Will they be sending out people to affirm our claims then?" Cass asked, wondering if she could get a good word put in with anybody that came. It would clearly be somebody in a higher, more specialised position than her. A ladder that could be climbed, some might call it. A nice opportunity to form a good connection with the more important people of the world. Only, just who would be- "I don''t think you understand," officer Grunwald stated, stressing the words uttered. Officer sounded good. It put pressure on the title, showing off respect, while also letting Cassandra slide by anything personal. She had no intentions to know these people more, after all. She only called Jared by his name due to the latter option being even worse. "They refuse to acknowledge that we have a problem on our hands. The war is taking everything they have at their disposal. Or, so they say. I personally think they just refuse to move their forces a bit around." Oh, why did she even ask? If she had to listen to the man rant about the war for even a minute, she would have to do something drastic. There were already too many points given to her by the inhabitants of the city. No way would she willingly listen to another one during her off-time. "What does that mean for us?" Jared asked, putting his hands over his stomach and lying back in his chair slightly. The man was not looking happy about the development. Had he already assumed what would be happening? Cassandra had a few guesses herself, but she held off making any larger assumptions. Information still needed to be cleared before she could make any real decisions. "We just have to take the official stance, and ignore it like before?" "Of course, we aren''t ignoring it," Officer Grunwald positively shouted, a small bit of spit landing on the table. How utterly disgusting a sight. The man needed some lessons in controlling his temper. At least, he should have controlled it in front of her. There was no desire to look at that sight for more than she needed. "If we followed those orders, we would have paid no attention to the crimes from the start!" Wait. They¡­ had not been allowed to investigate? Cassandra could very vividly remember getting clear on that front. Had she been lied to? If she had, there was trouble brewing for everybody involved. "If we are not allowed to investigate, will there not be problems about our use of the alarms?" Cass asked, getting a tiny bit worried. Setting up connections with house-alarms was not strictly legal normally, but was allowed during long-term investigations. Papers had been signed on those grounds. More people than she could remember had signed those papers in goodwill. If it turned out that they had cheated so many out of their privacy¡­ there would definitely be talking about getting fired, if not getting a chance of jail time. The boss of the room seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, putting his hands up to shift the attention to something more physical. Lowering them again, he continued to talk. "If it was the normal authorities we had been listening to from the start, then we would have been in some deep shit now, yes. Luckily, those are not the ones that we have been in contact with for too long. Instead, I have been keeping up a connection with some of the more¡­ powerful ranks of our country," Officier Grunwald stated calmly. That¡­ was not encouraging. Cassandra was beginning to grow a tad nervous. Just what was going on? Nevertheless, the officer continued, no time left to spare for unnecessary pauses. No dramatics were thought of at all.. "Throughout the past few months, I have been getting continuous warnings about a group of¡­ I think they were called traitors. It''s a group of three, maybe more, bearing technology that could prove useful in war. This has been stolen crudely. It is believed that they are trying to sell it to the country that resides on the other side of the border. The state wants us to stop that from happening. Therefore, every city near the border has been tasked to watch out for anything¡­ unusual. As you both know, we have had unusual activities by the handful." Things were starting to make sense just a bit more. The constant look-outs, investigations continued without ever finding anything abnormal. He was fulfilling orders from higher-up. They did not care about the crimes done. Only the people who were doing them. "You think these people are the ones doing this?" Jared asked, reminding Cassandra he still existed. There was no presence to the man. His breathing had begun to grow soft. Maybe another shout would help wake him up a little more¡­ no, she wasn''t evil. The boss would do it for her. "We are not too sure on that front," was the response given, before the officer turned his eyes onto Cassandra. "Cass, your initial report showed off that you were unable to see any facial features, that it was all an artificially made blur. It''s obvious that the thieves are in possession of some cloaking. It''s obviously not something available anywhere in the country, which was what initially made me report it in. As it turns out, this was not the technology being looked for." "But it''s still more advanced than anything a civilian should have been able to get," Cass objected, once again trying to find reason in the man¡¯s words. With what was said, it should have been clear that the targets had been found. "If the normal sides are not sending in reinforcements, this¡­ higher rank of people should be!" "It''s not as easy as that," Officer Grunwald continued, not pausing for too long after her words. He had likely had the same objections not too long ago. "Looters have been starting to show up at the border-cities as of late. Some have matching if not more advanced technology than we have seen ourselves. They can''t send everybody reinforcements." Great. More trouble heading their way soon. And it had just begun to die down with crime. Soon enough, it would do a reverse nose-dive. Cassandra could hardly wait. The forces were strained as it were, and they were expected to work more soon enough. She could only hope that she would be paid extra in overtime. "So¡­ what? Are we expected to just continue as we are now?" Jared asked. That caused a small glance to come from the officer. Was the mildly negative attitude starting to wear off? Curious. "I expect that we will be patrolling semi-permanently. Calls will now be taken care of by automatic systems and distributed evenly during each of our work times. Less serious calls will be forwarded to neighbours, and we can expect to only take force with serious emergencies." That was fine. An okay development overall. "Also, we will be installing personal frameworks into automations. Expect to call them by their names, starting from¡­ your next shift." That was not fine. Chapter 280: Discussion
¡®I am still unable to see your point. While it will perhaps require additional equipment, the benefits from this will provide much more than you could ever hope for,¡¯ Adam sent to the young man. After a few minutes of waiting, it had become obvious that Troy would not sleep. The heart had still not settled down, the body still ready to begin running at a moment¡¯s notice. A weakness of the flesh, but not of the mind. Yet, both affected the other, and neither could suffer weakness without it being transferred to the other side. "I think we already talked about this before," Troy answered, staring up into the ceiling. His voice was quiet, barely on the level of a whisper. But it was still more than enough for Adam to understand. Simple lip movements still worked to some degree, but both had learned the chance of misunderstandings that could come from it. Some words were just too close to each other. ¡®That does not mean we can not open it up for discussion again. Following the standards of modern society, enough new information has been brought up for it to be looked at in an entirely new way,¡¯ Adam responded. And he was speaking the truth. From his point of view, the events of the day were more than enough to restructure his view on the police force. If they were able to locate their location without the alarm telling them, who said what else they were capable of? The police had never been readily discussed. They were a force meant to bring balance to the streets, while also not holding up arms in the same way a military would. Instead of using their weapons to threaten the citizens into holding their end of the law up, they held threats of fines against their heads, only using violence as a last resort. In a way, they were the version of the military that were less dangerous, but also much more common to come into contact with. Adam¡¯s first ideas on how to deal with such a situation were not the smartest of plans. His original plans had involved taking them on in some fashion. Limited weaponry had originally been thought of as the police only being able to bear melee weapons. That had turned out to be utterly false. Who could have guessed that non-lethal existed and were much less used? That the police had fast-acting tranquillizer-darts was not something that had been conveyed to the AI during any part of the conversation with the group. When seeing the weapon on the police officer, he had thought it to be an extendable baton, as had been heard about during his frequent visits into his own database. It had not been something like that. No. It had been a weirdly-formed weapon capable of stopping a person within two seconds of shooting them. It had been a weird experience in itself when feeling the sensation of being shot. At some point, the muscles in the leg just stopped answering Troy¡¯s call. They were still there, still sending up the sensations that the nerves were getting, but never adhering to any of the wishes put upon them. There was still some wandering around that weapon, actually. Or how the contents of it worked, more so. There was obviously some biological answer to how it stopped the nerves from being a two-correspondence and turning it into a one-way track instead. It was some form of a sedative, but still much more in a controlled area than anything general. How this feat was managed was something the AI was unsure about. "... Fine. Make your case. I¡¯ll enjoy throwing it out into the trash," Troy said with closed eyes, not bothering to do anything but sigh at the end. Adam was fine with that. A response affirming he would listen was better than being told nothing at all. The young man was actually more talkative today. The AI wondered why. Was there still some adrenalin in the body after the escape? Such things were obviously the reason for insomnia, so there was a real chance of it having a more broad effect. But, no matter. It would be looked into at a later date. For now, there were more important tasks to complete. ¡®We both understand what has happened today. During one of our routine scavenges, wherein the alarm was disabled, a police officer came around and came close to capturing us. It was only through my cunning that we were able to escape. However, this leaves the question of-¡¯ Adam said, before stopping himself in response to Troy starting to speak. He could have continued to talk over him but felt that such an action would be seen as rude. Which it was, of course, but a tired mind would have likely seen it as something different. "Wait just a minute there. Are you sure that calling your so-called plans cunning is true? You told me to scream ¡®run¡¯ at a bush and expect it to work. Just where did it require cunning?" Troy questioned, a small smile on the man¡¯s face. He found it humorous. Interesting. During the actual scenario, the man¡¯s pulse had been all over the face, and breathing had become a problem after not too much time. It had been a bad situation through and through, and it was being found as something funny. The mind¡¯s capacity for twisting grim events into humour was scarily effective. Adam wondered if the humans could find mass death funny given enough time. It was a scary idea, but it was beginning to look more plausible than it was supposed to. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡®To answer your question, let me ask you this. Would you have decided to shout orders at a bush, if you were left to figure it out for yourself?¡¯ Adam questioned. "Well, no, but-" Troy began, but was cut off by the brilliant tactic of the AI just talking over him. It was a nice manoeuvre to use when needed. And right now? He needed it to prove a point. ¡®As I expected. Now for the second question. Did the plan work? Did we escape with time to spare?¡¯ Adam asked. "... Yes." ¡®Okay. To put things into perspective again, you admitted that the plan used would have never been thought of by you and that it was extremely effective. If that is not cunning, what other descriptor would you use for it?¡¯ "Nevermind," Troy said, pushing his head more into the pillow he had. Adam could feel the back of his head hit the floor. Pushing too much into the bed equipment was not too smart. "You won this one. Just continue with that pitch of yours." A shame. Adam had hoped to use at least three more argumentative forms before the man would have submitted to the truth of the matter. It wasn''t always he got to set up the framework for good arguments, and it wasn''t like he was actively looking for them. They had to come around by themselves. And that took time nowadays. Everybody preferred the quiet for some reason. There had been so much talk in the start, but that had stopped in frequency the moment Dr Hale started to become sick. That had been a bad move in relation to group morale. But¡­ there was no reason to blame the woman for becoming sick. It had been a calculated sacrifice after all. Without it, there were doubts that they would have gotten so far, to begin with. ¡®Thank you. To begin again, we both know that there were no real errors made during today¡¯s events. We executed the mission with the same mindset as all the other times. Yet, the end result differed drastically. Instead of going in and out without ever being seen, the police arrived within mere minutes. Together, we have overlooked countless defences inside the city. Nearly every store is based on an easy-to-locate alarm that interacts with the whole building¡¯s security. As of now, we have only gone inside buildings that have had no apparent risks attached. This has been those who have not been in possession of connections other than the one housed in the alarm. While such a tactic has been a great limiter in what we have been able to break into, it has come with the bonus of making sure that we were never detected. This has changed. As it turns out, the police are not dependent on the alarms anymore. There were no outgoing communications in place, during our last excursion, yet the force was still able to locate us within minutes of entering. Do you have any comments on this yet?¡¯ Troy had been nodding along to the AI¡¯s words for some time. That was good. Usually, the man would just stare blank-faced until he stopped talking. That meant he was engaged in what was talking about. That meant there was a chance of him listening to it for real. "You heard what the others suggested. There was a difference between what we did today and what we normally do. We were slow, Adam. Slow enough that the police catched foot of something being wrong. Patrols needed to have gone by at some point," Troy said, only catching the general area of where the AI was pointing. He supposed that was as good as he expected. ¡®The time we spent is the reason I am talking about the events. There was nothing different but the time. This means that if we spent more time at the earlier places, the police would have shown up at those as well while we were there! Troy, did you see any vehicles at the store? The police did not come by the store while it was being robbed. They knew what was happening before they came close, and parked in a place where they would not be noticed early. And if they knew what was happening, they must have understood the meaning behind previous scavenges. They know when we attack, and they have a specific time before they arrive. Do you not realise what this means? Turning off the alarms fully are pointless when the police will know of it no matter what. As long as we watch how long we take at new locations in the future, there should be virtually nothing stopping us from visiting any store we want.¡¯ ¡­ "I guess it makes sense," Troy said. That was positive. "But¡­ there is one factor you forgot. One that might make you want to rethink your ideas of grandeur." One factor¡­ It took no thinking at all to know what the man talked of. It had been a part of earlier discussions that Adam dreaded. Damn that woman, and damn everything she stood for. ¡®Dr Hale is not well mentally and physically. Trusting her every word is not-¡¯ "Adam, we talked about this. No bad-mouthing others to make your case. You can set it up as a logical trap or something else, but just criticizing others because their ideas contradict yours is not a viable method of living. And, just for the record, there are only physical problems to attend to," Troy corrected before the AI could get going. Adam had to note that the man didn''t even know what contraction he had said. But, it would not be questioned. ¡®I just don''t believe that Dr Hale¡¯s warnings should be taken too seriously now. My skill has progressed further along since the last time. There should be no errors anymore. Everything is accounted for.¡¯ "There shouldn''t have been any errors to start with, Adam," Troy said, wiping a hand at his eyelid. The talking was making the man tired. The AI expected him to sleep within the minute. "Listen. We can talk about opening the others up to more options, but there isn''t any chance of us doing an open system. Enclosed connections are everything we can risk. Good night, Adam." ¡®Good night, Troy.¡¯ The man fell asleep quickly after that, leaving Adam to whatever task he had for the night. There was not much to do, really, but the sensory input gotten was more than enough to keep him occupied. Where would he look tonight? Maybe the heartbeat would work. The rhythmic pulse, the blood flow, and the health that came with it¡­ Yes. The AI could work with this. Chapter 281: Cherished
Cassandra didn''t spend much of her night asleep. After the conversation with the other two, they had all split up. One of them was still supposed to do their job. Jared was supposed to have been sleeping. And Cassandra was supposed to get ready to sleep. There was a doubt if anybody had done their respective tasks. The woman lying wide awake in her bed knew that she most certainly hadn''t. There might have been moments of near-unconsciousness, but she never felt unaware of her surroundings. Her brain just refused to stop thinking about it all. How could she use this for her own gain? How could she exploit the situation and come out on top? She had trained herself to think of the world with those questions, but damn did it halt progress at the worst of times. Figuring out her advantages were important, yes, but so was getting a night of rest. Already, she had skipped the daily exercise in favour of trying to get in five minutes of extra sleep. There was no way it would happen, but there was likewise no way she would get anything out of trying to do fitness. She wouldn''t be able to go through with it. From what she could guess, Jared would come in on the radio at any point now, requesting her to come and take over for him. ¡­ No, wait. He probably wouldn''t. She wasn''t expected to sit with a cup of tea anymore. No¡­ she was expected to drive around with an automation all day, looking for thieves that were possibly traitors to the country. A whole day of activity that she could not bear to think too much about. At this point, Cassandra might have made a sarcastic comment about it. Yet¡­ she just couldn''t get through with it. Her mind was not in a space ready for such advanced thinking yet. Without even looking, the woman swiped her hand around her bedside table. Finding a small bottle of pills, she fished one out with her fingers before popping in her mouth. The doctor said not to use them too often, but this was an emergency of sorts. There was no hope about Jared wanting to work overtime two days in a row. Energy finally began to fill her in, while she was getting the gear on. It was like her eyes finally got adjusted to the light, as if her breath got a bit lighter on the lungs, and the senses had finally woken up. Her view of the world expanded just a bit. It felt great. She felt great. Made sense that it required a psychological test before one could get those pills legally. Any person without a good amount of willpower would be denied access to them. They were just too good at their job. That feeling of energy was intoxicating to most. It was a high like no other in the day. Sugar could not compare to what was felt. Cassandra just saw it all as a means to an end. An emergency pill when she couldn''t get enough sleep to fulfil her duties. And that''s exactly why she was allowed to have them. The idea of drug abuse hadn''t even crossed her mind when she originally bought them. That might have changed now. After getting changed into her professional clothing, the woman moved ahead, getting out of the station, and waiting for the vehicle to come back with Jared in tow. According to the brain implant, she had been five minutes too early. Not the worst of things to be early too, but it was still most definitely annoying. Because she was not alone. Beside her stood an automation. It smiled at her. She glared back. It did not falter and neither did she. It was a stand-off. Or, so the woman saw it. The automation saw it as a joke, laughing after a few seconds. "I think we¡¯re going to be great friends!" the scrap bucket decided, putting its hands to its sides, while also smiling like the egotistical idiot that it was. Cassandra couldn''t help but twitch slightly, feeling a desperate need to slap the thing. She just felt like it deserved it. Nothing more than that. "Shut up and be quiet until I ask something of you," Cassandra said, her own words putting in the standard orders. Those pieces of carbon fibre talked way too much. Yet, one great thing about them was that she could- "Uh¡­ yeah, no thank you. I think I prefer talking," the automation said, full-on rejecting the notion of staying quiet. Cassandra positively whipped her head around to look at it from that. Just¡­ what? What had it just said? No, it wasn''t allowed to talk! She had ordered it. "Do you like golf?" "Why are you still talking? Search for internal errors," Cassandra ordered it. She had never been in a position where those things were malfunctioning. What was she supposed to do in situations like these? Bring it back to the station and grab another one? No, she couldn''t do that. It had been brought out ahead of time, so it was clear that her superior intended for her to use it. Still, an error was an error, and she needed that to be fixed. It needed to follow orders. "I don''t think that has anything to do with golf, but I guess we all have some form of flaws," the automation said, shrugging in mild disappointment. It even made pop with its lips! Just what did it think it was doing? "And¡­ no errors detected. I even ran it twice on the new addition, so you can be sure that I am as perfect as you can possibly be." Cassandra watched the automation with a dead stare, as it began making the most absurd poses. Why? Why was this happening to her? It stated that there were no errors, yet there was clearly something wrong with the piece of scarp! And what was that about a new addition? Just what was that a- If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A pause in her thoughts came suddenly, as the memories of the previous night replayed in her head. It had been part of the final comments. In addition to the removal of caller-duty, they would each have an automation with a¡­ personality matrix. Oh god, no. "Please don''t tell me you are my partner," Cassandra said, sounding utterly defeated. While the abilities of the new matrixes were not fully known, she had a few ideas of just what they were about. One of them was rebellion, meant to show off defining features in personality. And¡­ there was little doubt what the current personality was about. "Not just your partner but your partner in crime. That''s a joke, of course. We are the ones preventing the crime, if you feel me, partner," the automation said, looking pretty dang proud of itself. Cassandra felt herself age a few years, having to listen to it all. She only wished that her ears had rotted before it finished, just so that she wouldn''t have to listen to the last bits. "For the time being, the two of us will be inseparable." It tried to come in for a hug. Like the good partner that Cassandra was, she deflected it easily, stepping to the side just as the automation began to get close. There might even have been some pressure put on the back of its head, in an effort to make it fall to the ground. A shame that the scrap piles weighed so much. Instead of planting its ugly face into the ground, it just swerved to the sound, redirecting the force somewhere else. "We¡¯ll work on that, I suppose," the automation said, readjusting the jacked it had on even though there was no need to do so. Cassandra hated that. It acted, talked, and sounded like a human. The voice that had shown off its artificial heart had disappeared. Before her now stood something she wouldn''t have been able to distinguish from a real human. Only the appearance let that fact show, and even that could have been excused as an over-use of body paint. Whatever else there was to do, it was all stopped the moment that a vehicle began cruising down the street they stood beside. Cassandra quickly recognized it as her work space of the day. Already, Jared sat inside, looking as tired as ever. Slight sympathy was felt for the man. As it slowed down in front of them, the sight of an automation was seen as well. It didn''t sit in the driver''s seat, as Cassandra usually made hers do. Instead, it sat on the other side, waving politely at them. Jared just stepped out of the car, not looking like he had too much to say. He definitely looked a little tired. No¡­ scratch that. He looked ready to fall over. The man twitched every few seconds. The woman guessed he had taken some caffeine boosters to keep himself awake. That must have back-fired after a few hours. "I hope everything went well?" Cass inquired politely, taking the car key being offered to her. She noted the man¡¯s inability to keep his hand steady. Had he even eaten? His blood sugar must have been on dangerous levels with how blood-shot his eyes were. She wondered if the automation had said anything about it. "About as well as it could," Jared answered, sending a glare to the automation stepping out of the car. It waved again when looked at. Cassandra judged to hold back any waving of her own, only nodding in its direction. "No calls were deemed important enough to be sent our way. I just got the luxury of spending my whole work-day driving around with that thing over there. I am beginning to doubt the boss¡¯ decisions when it comes to this. What reason is there for this?" "I have asked myself that question many times. But, I am sure he has us in the forefront of his mind when making them," Cass said, trying to sound like she agreed with him but only just. Taking a certain stance would not be looked at positively. She was selling herself as somebody with an open mind. Just how open-minded would she be, if she couldn''t help but back-talk somebody who stood two meters away? "Do get something to eat. You look positively starved." That reminder was enough to make the man¡¯s stomach churn. A good trick to make people leave was to remind them of their own bodily functions. Mentioning food in front of a hungry person was a go-to technique of hers. It worked surprisingly well. Jared looked a bit sheepish at that. Giving a farewell nod, which was mirrored, the man left the car behind, walking into the police station. The other automation left as well, going down the street and behind the police building instead. There was a separate entrance for them that allowed them to be efficiently herded into the storage area them. It would also help stop traffic when people began to crowd the station again. Though, that would likely take some months more. No matter. With the key in hand, Cassandra debated giving them over to the automation beside her. She could follow in the footsteps of the one before her, doing the hard job herself. But¡­ "Do you know how to drive?" Cassandra asked, just to make sure she wouldn''t mistake the prior situation too much. But, with that offending look she got in response, she might just have understood it well enough. "Of course, I know how to drive! What do you take me for? One of the older models or something?" the automation said. The tone was a bit too realistic for her taste. But nevertheless, she handed the keys out to the automation, which were quickly grabbed, before getting in the passenger seat herself. Her so-called partner entered through the other side. Familiarising herself with the car in but a moment, the physical key was inserted, and the car was started. They rolled out elegantly, and began what Cassandra could only guess would be a long day. "Do you have a name?" Cassandra asked, wanting to get that out of the way first. "What?" the automation asked, looking over at her. Clearly, it had not been expecting her to be first breaking the silence. "A name. The identifiers humans use to identify others. Do you have one of those?" "Huh¡­ I supposed I don''t," the automation said, looking concentrated for a few moments. "I guess I should get myself one of those. Do you have any ideas on what it should be?" "Nope." "A shame. Now¡­ what can it be? Maybe Cass? No, wait, that''s your name, right? Of course, it is. What about Jared then? Sounds might- wait, no. The other guy had that name. Maybe sir Elton Mercury. Or¡­ maybe I''m not allowed to use royal titles. Do you-" "Just stick to one name. Take one from this year''s top hundred randomly," Cassandra ordered, not wanting to hear anymore. It wanted suggestions, and that''s what it would get. "Okay, I guess. How about Maximillian, then? Rolls off the tongue." "I believe I requested one of the top hundred most popular names. That is not one of them." "Is so! Some movie came out with the star in it, and now everybody needs their babies to be named after him. Say, have you never heard of-" "Jules!" Cassandra said, not wanting to hear that kind of talk already. "Your name is now Jules. Congratulations." She should have been the one driving. That would have made it all so much more bearable. "Jules¡­ I like that. Thank you. I will cherish it." No need to thank her. She just wanted some silence. Chapter 282: Adjusted
What was so great about mornings? Was it the tweeting of the birds, the sunshine in one¡¯s face, or was it perhaps the refreshed body, ready to take on the world? Troy wouldn''t know. He had none of the aforementioned, muttering harsh words, as he walked in the cover of the trees, trying to force his weak body into lifting a heavy bucket of water without spilling anything. It was hard to do, extremely dangerous with the weight difference, and Adam always made sure to tell him it was bad for his knees. ¡®You are moving out of proper form again.¡¯ "There is literally no difference in how I¡¯ve been carrying this bucket for the last ten minutes!" Troy came close to shouting. His body was without that much air, however, making it hard to really shout anything at all. The last parts came out with a sigh included, as the bucket swayed a bit more to the side than it was supposed to. ¡®I can quite clearly see you putting too much force on each individual leg. It is not-¡¯ "-good for my knees. Yes, I have understood that quite clearly by now. Thanks for reminding me, though. I just needed to be sure of it for the tenth time today," Troy said, trying to nod his head aggressively, but only getting close to losing his balance in the process. God, he hated this. As one would have it, the water at the house had been deemed much too unclean to get close to. It was contaminated by some chemical or other. Troy couldn''t remember the name, other than it would give humans the gift of a near-permanent bad stomach. Or brain-eating amoebas. Charlie had not been too clear on which it was. For that, the young man feared it all. And, therefore, somebody had to bring over water for the whole group every morning. Since Charlie doing it would equal Dr Hale being left alone, it was clear who had gotten the role of that task. It was just his luck that the closest natural, clean stream of water was a whole two kilometres away from the house. The trek to it was easy enough. However¡­ Stepping over one of the larger branches, Troy accidentally got some of the water splashed on his pant leg. Immediately, it stuck onto his leg, with the cold not being too far behind. He needed to quicken his stride if he wanted to remain in good health. How he loved the lack of a proper road down to the stream. There had been one, once upon a time. Yet, after a good decade of not being used or maintained, the natural had grown around it. Or fallen on it. Several trees blocked some of the path in some places. Troy couldn''t remember how many, even if Adam liked to count them each day out loud. ¡®This is the thirteenth and final log we will pass by today. Please remember to tread over it more carefully next time,¡¯ Adam said, giving his usual reminder about keeping safe. Troy had begun to hate those, really. Many times had he asked the AI to stop doing it, but the guy just never stopped with them. It was apparently in the best minds to keep safe at all times, never taking unnecessary risks. The young man found that ironic in some way, even if he never said why. "I would have liked it to be the permanent last time I got over it, but who cares about my opinion on that matter?" Troy continued to mutter. He liked muttering in the morning. It was a stress-reliever. Back in the first days of doing so, Adam had always asked if he needed help or had tried to give advice on the situation. Nowadays, even the AI ignored what was being said. Or, if that was even possible. It was more likely that he was just refusing to answer them now. Troy did tone down on his quiet complaints, however, when he got close to the house again. Complaining in front of the two others felt a bit¡­ evil to do. Charlie was up constantly, tending to Dr Hale¡¯s basic needs. And Dr Hale¡­ well, there was no need to think too long about that. It was clear that few were in a worse position than her. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Getting through the door was one of the harder parts of the journey. Opening with his elbow, it then required him to walk backwards a few steps before he could safely put down the bucket. If done earlier, the combined forces of an imbalanced floor and a door would push it over, spilling all the water. That had happened once and only once. Nobody had learnt a lesson faster than Troy on that day. The pain of bringing two buckets full of water over on a single day had been more than anybody should have endured. Maybe it would be better if the bucket had a proper handle? It was not the most comfortable grip he had now, the thin iron slate working as a handle digging into his skin when he moved his hand around. Since he was going to have another run a bit later in the day, maybe he could look and see if anything there was to his liking? It would just require some rubber tubing to make the experience so much better. On the talk of scavenging¡­ earlier that morning, Troy had brought up Adam¡¯s point about the alarms. The two others had been fine with it, to a degree. Charlie still wanted them to remain with what they had, while Dr Hale did see the point. Neither encouraged it, but it was deemed fine when all other methods were exhausted. It was not like they had much choice in the matter. With each new store showing off as empty, they all began to feel a bit more dread in their systems. Charlie was there to take the water bucket. While the man rarely left Dr Hale¡¯s side, bringing the bucket into the living room was one of the exceptions. Troy had to take a few breaths before he felt comfortable following. He winced slightly when he stretched his fingers. His palm had small red lines. It was barely enough to draw blood, yet it was more than enough to cause pain. It was annoying, and he knew there was no chance of it disappear for at least a few hours. They had bandages, yes, but those were saved for another time. After getting a new pair of pants on, Troy sat down on the chair adjacent to the sofa. Charlie had been offered that seat many times, but the large man had always refused it. The younger one was beginning to think he had grown fond of sitting on the floor. Or maybe there was a whole other reason entirely. Not like he would be told. Charlie handed him a piece of bread along with the daily morning-MRE. Well, a part of one at least. They hadn''t been eating too much of them as of late, supplementing with alternative food sources. One of Troy¡¯s scavenges had been in a food store, during their first couple of days in the city. Having brought a bag that day, he had taken enough to hold them up for a few weeks, if mixed together with what they already had. And, if that ran out, Troy supposed they could start on the canned food. Some of them were a bit dented, but he was sure that was fine. One of the actually good things about the morning was just about now. Dr Hale was usually in better spirits in the mornings, able to sit without trouble, and having enough energy to talk freely. One could say that the longer she was awake, the worse her life became. Troy did not like it, but he knew he should have just been happy with the time they had during breakfast. "Where will you be going after today?" Dr Hale asked. It might have been out of curiosity, but Troy guessed that the woman was more bored than anything. She was not immune to that, even if one might have thought it. Charlie would probably have entertained her if she asked. "Something on the outskirts. Not sure where exactly yet," Troy answered. Usually, he and Adam would brainstorm ideas on where to go while walking there. It was a long trek to the city, after all, making it stupid to wait in the house while thinking about where to go. The young man knew that there were still a few good places to go before he would have to survey the area again. "A good idea," Dr Hale said. "Try to choose those right by the forest-line. In a chase, you would have the highest chance of escaping." "Higher? yes. Good? No. Trust me, the police force of today have enhancements just like you two. Though, I am not too sure how fast they are. Faster than me yes, but not nearly the speed of a car or anything," Troy said, trying to think of any good examples. Deciding against it, however, he chose to once again use one of the better calculators reality had to offer. "Adam, how fast was the police officer?" ¡®From the footage that I could parse together, it would be a minimum of forty kilometres an hour. Though, I need to point out that this was recorded not long after she started running. It could be more.¡¯ "Adam says it could be a bit under the natural cap at a minimum estimate. Not too shabby," Troy said. That did cause Charlie to look at him for a moment. "You do realise you can escape from that still?" Charlie asked. That¡­ was not what Troy expected to hear, really. Just how was he expected to run away from somebody who could outrun several dog-breeds? "I think you overestimate these legs of mine. Just because her speed is under the human limit does not mean I can reach the human limit," Troy said. He would need to be a bit taller for that. "I know perfectly well how weak you are, thank you," Charlie said with a straight face. If that was meant as humour, the man needed to be applauded for his lack of showing it. "I mean, we have brought gear that can stop them. Not permanently, of course, but for enough time to let you get away." Huh. That would be nice to have. It seemed that the day might just have turned out a bit better than Troy expected it to be. Chapter 283: Connecting
Being stared upon was always a tough thing to bear through. The feeling of one¡¯s eyes upon the personal body, every detail being looked over with apparent scrutiny. It was utterly impossible to know what was being thought of when those eyes flickered at the different locations, impossible to know what flaws were being collected internally. In other words, Cassandra wished Jules would stop staring at her. The automation was not even pretending like it needed to look forward when driving, the hands barely on the wheel to begin with. Instead, every second was spent staring at her, no blinks letting the pressure off at any moment. Cassandra had just stared ahead, eyes forward, hoping that faked ignorance of the eyes would make them disappear. If anything, that only made them look at her harder. Why oh why had there not been any calls yet? Hours most have passed by, by now. It sure felt like it, even if her brain implant let her know only one had gone by. It must have had a malfunction. Just like the damn malfunction that Jules had in its internal functions. Cassandra had at first thought that it would be a slow-turning stare, yet the time had shown it would just continue. Ignorance would not work anymore. She would have to go on the offence for this one. "While I am unable to order you to silence, I can still file complaints about your behaviour," Cassandra said, beginning her stare-back at the automation to her side. Having only used side-glances to ascertain the stare, to begin with, she had been unable to see the wide smile on the machine''s face. It was only more unnerving that the expression had not changed for so long. "Such a complaint will be filed if you do not change your current behaviour." "But I am abiding by your rules!" Jules protested quickly, still wearing an albeit muted smile. "You wanted me to be quiet, so here I am being as quiet as I could be. And, you said nothing about smiling, so I have done nothing wrong!" ¡­ It was surprising how much Cassandra disliked the words said. She felt a stronger inclination to slap the automation on the head, even if she fully understood that it would bring nothing but pain in her hand. That little scrap-bucket¡­ maybe she could tase it? She hoped there was some way for it to feel pain. "Even if I did not order you to refrain from such behaviour, there are protocols that you are expected to abide by. The regulations state clearly that behaviour which causes uncomfortableness should be refrained from fully," Cassandra said, reading up from the rule-book she had brought up in her sight. "As a machine meant to help the population abide by the law, it is expected you do the same." It had a fast-push thought attached, as was required for all police officers. When doing anything unusual, it was strongly encouraged to make sure they were allowed to do so. The state did not want any controversies, after all. "There are always exceptions to every rule. I, for one, saw the current situation as an emergency and had to act in what way was needed. This is fully within my allowed duty as a public servant." ¡­ "And just what emergency would that be?" Cassandra inquired, already knowing it was going to be- "Happiness!" Jules proudly proclaimed, as if it was anything anyone should have been proud of. It was shameful. "The feelings generated when you gave me a name made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Do you know how dangerous heat is to automations like me? It''s like our own personal green rock! I just had to expel all this emotion, or I would have burst!" "I find it hard to believe that you would burst from emotion, much less spontaneously combust," Cassandra started with a dead-pan tone. She wasn''t sure whether to laugh or cry at her current life. A bucket of scrap was making her blood pressure rise to levels that old people were afraid of, using nothing other than its voice. "And, if such a scenario was realistic in any way, I am sure you could have done better things than stare at me." "We all make mistakes in the heat of passion, Jimbo," Jules said, a pompous voice coming out of the mouth. It felt forced. It felt bad. Cassandra could barely look at the thing with anything but disgust. How she wished for it to malfunction at that very second, to reset to what it had been before. Only a day ago, she had loved the lack of conversation, the time where she could only hear her own thoughts. That had all been ruined now. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Why wouldn''t it just shut up? The world would be brighter, better, and a place where Cassandra would like to be. So many mistakes had been made over time, and Jules was clearly one of the biggest. "I am unable to explain my hate that I have for you," Cassandra got out, unable to think of anything else to say. It needed to be said. Not like she would be looked at as rude for saying something like that anyway. People shouted at machines all the time. This was no different. There was no pulse in that thing, no air being processed. The rising of its chest was but a disguise of the gears and bolts inside. The iron was not alive, and there was no way Cassandra would ever look at it in any other way. They were a means to an end. A way to appease the populace, a product to show off. Nothing more than that. It would be anything more than that. "Hate is just another form of love," Jules said, beginning to hum to the song starting up on the radio. It had been quiet just a moment ago, yet the automation found that it needed to be louder. Much louder. Loud to the point where Cassandra lowered it as quickly as she could, not being in the mood for any soundwaves felt in her chest. The scrap had the audacity to make a moaning noise from that. "Hey! I was going to enjoy that." "You have enjoyed much as of late. If you enjoy it too much, you will burst. Look at this as me doing you a favour," Cassandra said sarcastically, feeling that bad reasoning was much deserved. ¡®What hurt oneself must hurt others twice as much.¡¯ Someone smart had said such a thing not long ago. Jules stared at her. She stared back, not feeling like adding anything else to her statement, even if the automation was expecting her to do so. It wasn''t always that everything wanted was received. No pushy parents to push it on them. Nobody at all. Maybe that was why the steel found humour in it, beginning to laugh boisterously at her words. "That was a joke! You just said a joke!" Jules said, pointing her finger at the woman. Cassandra did not find it near as funny, swiping the pointed digit away from her face. That only seemed to make it more hilarious to the automation. "The cold, unfeeling machine is finally feeling the oils working? A miracle is upon us! Praise those that pray for this time, lest we forget that Jimmy is the true lord." There was no way that the automation had guessed that the mention of that particular name would not make something spark in Cassandra¡¯s mind. She knew it, and the automation was likely prodding on, testing to see if the intended reaction was showing. Her mind was spinning along, projecting memories of puppets, songs, and a happy, giddy ten-year-old that tried to join in at every opportunity. It had been a fun time, a time where there was nothing but a smile on her face. And the memory made her lip twitch. Perhaps it would have been more than a twitch if given enough time. That was not given today, at that very moment. The sound had stopped it. Not just the laughing being sent out of the automation, but also the screeching ring of an emergency call being sent through to the van. Or¡­ it would have already been answered by now, really. The screech was just a reminder that the time for relaxing had passed. Something somewhere was serious enough for police intervention. As the information finally transmitted fully over to Cassandra, any happy thoughts that had begun to spring up had faced out of existence, replaced by the cold expression of job commitment. It was why she was there, after all. And this time¡­ this time there was no chance of her failing. The automation accelerated the car, moving it to speeds that were only allowed in times of emergency. Cassandra had no care for it, however, already in the process of scouring the network for anything she could get her hands on. Another break-in! While the alarm had sounded out, it had only been for but a moment, before going abnormally quiet. A call-sign that something had gone wrong for a thief normally perfect in their execution. The model of the alarm was not the same as before. No¡­ it was a newer model, equipped with more protections than the ones the earlier break-ins had. There were still many buildings that had the old ones. Why did the thieves change their attitude now? What made it necessary to take a larger chance? ¡­ Medical stores. That was it. While some of the previously mentioned stores had medical supplies, it was only meant as secondary supplies. Nothing serious. Nothing that would require it to be stolen. The ones with the newer alarms, however¡­ they had more than anybody could ever need, with more variety than anybody could ever reasonably know of. The thieves needed something specific. Now, all the easy targets had been hit. They had begun their second choices now. For them, it was hell on earth. For Cassandra? It only meant that her job had become so much easier. Jules was silent now. No words came out of the steel now. Looking over at it, Cassandra noticed the automation wasn''t even staring at her anymore. In fact, it gazed forward, eyes flickering around the street. Was it using both the car¡¯s cameras and what it had on its own? A small bonus. Not one she had guessed would be used by a machine previously hell-bent on destroying a professional work-atmosphere. But¡­ it would do. Yes, it would do just fine.
Troy bowed down, as low to the ground as he possibly could. Even without the whine, the sound of a vehicle driving on a road nearby could be heard. The wheels on it had lost traction for but a moment. ¡®Think we should be worried?¡¯ Troy signed smoothly, the sentence having been used so many times before. By now, the young man could do it without even thinking about it, the movements more natural to him than breathing. Perhaps that spoke more about him than it did anybody else. ¡®It is not too near yet. Move quickly and silently. There is still much to do today,¡¯ Adam replied, not taking much time to space his words. If it had been anybody else, they would have likely been incapable of understanding the jumble of mutterings, not accustomed to the speed. Troy? He just continued on, doing his best to go unseen for even a second more. For such was life for a petty thief. Chapter 284: Karma
Empty streets had a lot of reasons for being empty. Cassandra certainly put it on the list of consequences for the city having a diminished population. There simply wasn¡¯t enough people to make a crowd anywhere. Most hardly ever went out of their apartments, emergency rations enough to sustain them for the near future. However¡­ even if there were the numbers necessary to crowd the roads, there were real doubts such a thing would happen. With her right hand tight around the handhold provided by the vehicle, Cassandra was beginning to notice the lack of a slowing acceleration. It had been a good half-minute, yet the scrap-bucket beside her was making the car speed up even more than usual. The whole road was being used, with turns so wide that it would have destroyed any cars in their way. There was no chance that she would have attempted what was being done in front of her. Not even the greatest of drivers would have risked driving in such a populated city with their current velocity. It was just too dangerous. Just the g-forces were something in its own class. Had it been a decade ago, Cassandra would have likely gotten queasy, to the point of rediscovering her breakfast. Nowadays, she was likely immune to such reactions. That''s what she had guessed, at least. Though¡­ with the continuing speeds, there was a chance that such an assumption would be put on a test. That is if they did not drive into a building beforehand. "While your parts might be recovered and salvaged, I feel my life is more important than risking it for a few saved seconds," Cassandra said, not daring to look over at the silent Jules. She was more than ready to brace for impact, the moment that she got the slightest hint of them crashing. They were getting awfully close to the side-walks now, to the point where the widest parts of the car were starting to hit it mildly. Not enough to cause visual scratches, but enough to make the car issue warnings out aplenty. Again, there was no reaction about them from the vehicle. Even the non-sentient object with wheels had found their journey too quick. That must have meant something when Cassandra had never personally been issued such a thing herself. "In your report, there was a mention of their utter efficiency. Seconds matter, when the break-in is counted in minutes," Jules said, similarly not looking over at her. Those robotic eyes continued to flick around, trying to look everywhere at once. It would have disoriented anyone alive if they were to try the same. "And, brace for deceleration. We will arrive at five. Four. Three¡­" With another sharp turn, Cassandra hardly had time to flex her tricep before she was pushed forward. Only her arm gripping the car and the seatbelt stopped her from flying through the windshield. Or, attempt to fly through the windshield. There was no actual chance of such a thing happening, the pressure needed to even scratch it being more than a human could ever hope to produce. "We have reached our destination," Jules said, already starting to get out of the vehicle. From the inside of the automation¡¯s jacket, a tranquilizer was drawn. Without having to be told, it had gone the route of non-lethal. Cassandra supposed that was an improvement from the standard. There was no need to use the weapons capable of death when one could make the thieves fall over. "What are your orders?" ¡®Switch over to internal communications,¡¯ Cassandra started off with, not feeling that conversation would be worth it. Stepping out of the car as well, she looked around. There was no sign of anybody having been close by for close to a couple of weeks. But¡­ that was not what the cameras had said. Fifty meters away, a door to a medical supply store stood open. Once again, somebody had forgotten to close it. ¡®Stealth is high-priority. Any capture is a higher priority than all captured. If lethal force is used, disarm at all costs.¡¯ Jules sent a thumbs up in response. Some things never changed, even if the woman oh so wished they did. At least her orders were respected this time around. If there had been a struggle about rank, it would have bit into their precious time to strike. Now¡­ from the building plans there were two ways to enter and exit the building. One in the front and one which led into an alleyway in the back. From city plans, it would take seven minutes on foot to reach the alleyway. Not good. But, communications with the building would allow her to lock it temporarily. That was one of the abilities the force had to use, as an attempt to hinder escape. It would force the thieves to stay inside the building or come out of the front entrance. Could that work? It would help the two locate a specific place the thieves would come from, allowing them to create an ambush on their terms. Or¡­ the thieves would stay inside the building for as long as they pleased. If that was so, reinforcements could come, allowing for them to encircle the building fully. With all those ideas, the smartest decision would be to lock the door, and wait for the thieves to come out the main entrance, no? From a single glance, it would certainly look appealing. But¡­ Cassandra knew better. She could technically lock the back exit, but there were no guarantees that the thieves couldn''t bypass it. They must have had the required tech for it, else they would have been unable to enter the building, to begin with. What then? If they knew that the thieves would leave within five minutes, that there were two entrances to guard, and with no discernable idea about the number nor what equipment was present, what would be the smartest decision to make? A super-computer could likely spend a year on it, and come out with an agreeable answer. But, Cassandra had neither the time nor the power needed for such a thing. She had to trust pre-made battle plans, her instincts, and a general idea about the criminals she would face. ¡®We enter the building and lock both entrances. To cover the ground swiftly, we will split up. I will take the customer area, while you take the back room. The sweep needs to be done within a minute. Do you have any scanning equipment equipped currently?¡¯ Cassandra summarized. A good thing about working with automations was the lack of padding needing to be done. Though, she would have loved to refrain from sending anything to anyone. ¡®I am currently equipped with body armour, lethal and non-lethal weaponry, and close-range auto-defences,¡¯ Jules sent back. No scanning equipment then. What a waste. It would have made the first step of the plan easier. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®Incapacitate any targets you meet. No warnings need to be issued,¡¯ Cassandra sent out with a final statement. But¡­ after a second she realised another addition needed to be made. ¡®Any questions?¡¯ Working with automations had made Cassandra accustomed to their silent acceptance of her orders. Never was there a moment where her words would be questioned, where she would be disobeyed. She could ask them to shoot a criminal, and they would hardly hesitate for a moment. Yet, that was exactly what would be done now. Jules had already questioned and disobeyed a direct order. She needed to anticipate anything before they entered the building, and that included how her so-called partner accepted her words. How she despised it. ¡®Yes. What if I am unable to see them?¡¯ Jules asked, having an answer. Cassandra had not- Wait. It had a point. It had a very important point that should have been checked out. They were already within fifteen meters of the door, and there was one detail that had not been properly discussed. They had cloaking equipment, capable of disrupting any electronic sensors. This included what Cassandra had in her irises. If the tech could reach so far, what stopped it from having an effect on the automation¡¯s way of sight? They were within ten meters of the door now. Cassandra needed to know what to do. There had to be- Yes! The automation from the day before had been in contact with one of the thieves. How much had it been able to see¡­ No. It had not been in contact with one of the thieves. That was a mistake in her mind. The automation had run out after her, yes, but never had it looked over at the pavement, right where one of the criminals had been. There had been no reason to. If they entered, there was a legitimate chance of Jules going in blind. There was a chance that the automation would be unable to see any thieves at all. What were the chances that this would be exploited to target the automation? They were in front of the door, one of them on either side. Jules was waiting for her to answer, for her to give the sign to enter. The risks were high, yes, but by not trying at all¡­ Cassandra had not witnessed anything that would imply the thieves had weaponry. And there was not a high chance anything lethal would be carried right away. She hoped. ¡®We have to take the chance,¡¯ Cassandra answered, putting her weight in the right foot. Sending up a shared count-down, the time for entering had been set. With the width of the entrance, it would be simultaneous. Three. She would go to the right, and Jules would go to the left. Two. Cassandra adjusted the tranquillizer at hand. Its shape was making it hard to hold evenly. She had to focus. One. Just before the count finished silently, Cassandra had already leaned a bit forward, making it possible for her to enter at the perfect moment. Jules did the same, beginning what could only be called a dead sprint. The speed equalled it, at least. Cassandra did not pay attention to it. The doors had been locked shut. Her weapon was raised. Her steps were quick. Her heartbeat was strong and unstoppable. Every corner was checked, as the woman swept through the store. Once again, thin walls had been set up to mask the smaller size of the building. It created a sense of tightness, while also creating more corners than could be counted. It made more openings for criminals to strike. Her breathing was forced to be quiet. It was slow, relaxed. Cassandra knew she couldn''t keep that up for more than a minute. But, a minute would do just fine. Her eyes darted around the place systematically. Her hands matched were her eyes pointed, making the weapon ready to be fired. Her feet-placements were that of a fine dance. They had been choreographed, after all. She had prepared herself to search the rooms, had viewed the tapes of the inside, and had made sure that everything would be covered. There was no chance that she missed anybody hiding in her part of the store. There was not a soul in the store-front. Nobody except for her. ¡­ Cassandra let herself take in the air she so desperately needed. She had not been in control of her heartbeat. She needed to do more exercise if she ever wanted that skill under her palm again. A minute had passed. Her steps had been faster on average than they were supposed to have been. It was not the most grave of mistakes, but neither was it the lightest. Now, they needed to move together again. No sudden messages had come from Jules. Were they hiding in the ceiling? It had to be since the automation was still working perfectly fine. Another order to give. ¡®Jules, get over here. We need to-¡¯ was all she managed to send out before a cold, hard piece of metal hit the lower part of her neck and upper part of her back. On reflex, the uncompleted message was sent. Cassandra paid that no heed, the impact having hit hard enough to cloud her thoughts for a few precious moments. The second she fell to the ground without any bracing, her mind went back in operational mode. Her hand still held the tranquillizer. It had shifted slightly, her fingers barely touching the back-end. It would work. It had to. Twisting to put herself on her back, Cassandra shifted her hand to point the tranquillizer in her assailant''s way. The weapon never reached its intended direction, a metal-wrapped toe-capped forcing her grip to be released. It was pain incarnate, but none of it was released in sound. Instead, she put her arm to her side. Cassandra always had the lethal weapons on her right and the non-lethal on the left. It helped with coordination. Yet times like these showed how impractical it could be. With right hand trapped, her left had to grab what she could not see and- Cassandra stopped. Looking upwards, she saw the barrel of an old gun looking down on her. It was an ancient design, coming from the beginning of the current millennia. It was older than most alive. And it was aimed at her face, ready to fill her head full of metal. "Don''t move," was heard through a face mask filled with neon lights. The voice was altered, making it impossible to recognize. How had she not seen the lights before? Body armour filled every part of the criminal. The only part she dared move was her eyes, and they went through every detail they could. Images were transmitted to the servers as a precaution. Everything that could be used as an identifier. An emergency call would be made the moment the man twitched his fingers. This was bad. ¡®Jules, I have found the thief. They are armed and have incapacitated me. Help is needed,¡¯ Cassandra sent. Moments passed¡­ there were no thumbs-up sent back. In fact, the automation sent nothing back at all. The system classified the machine as operational, so it should have responded. Yet¡­ it was silent. "Are you alone?" Cassandra asked the masked man. From the body-form, she guessed it to be so. "Don''t talk," the masked man said. The woman was fine with that, knowing she had stalled for another second or two. "Are you alone?" As she had been asked to do, there was not a single movement of her lips. Silence held on between the two, Cassandra staring the masked man down. She did not blink, she did not waver, as she knew that her will was the only thing helping make the moment pass for a small while more. But, it might not have been much more. A muffled sigh was heard. Cassandra had to narrow her eyes slightly. She saw the man begin to press his finger on the trigger. She saw it moving down, knowing exactly what would be coming after. It was a miracle that she did not close her- The wall to the side split open, as Jules quite literally flew through it. The momentum made the automation able to near-instantly tackle the man, bringing them both towards the shelves filled with bandages. Not that the gun did not trigger though. A bullet travelled through the barrel, hitting the ground mere centimetres next to Cassandra¡¯s ear. It hurt. The sound was almost deafening. An unenhanced human would have likely lost their hearing for quite a while if put in her shoes. Jules held the man down, forcing the hand with the weapon to be towards the ground. Not much more could be done, if not for Cassandra joining the mix. With a shoe on the man''s wrist, he was forced to let go of the weapon. Karma was certainly swift in that regard. And more of it would come soon enough. She would make sure that it came to be. Chapter 285: Taken
With the man disarmed, filled with sedatives that stopped any movements in the arms and legs, and more than a few threats about possible resisting, Cassandra pulled off the mask lit up with neon lights. What met her was- "An old man," Jules mused. While likely not for the same reason, the woman would have used the same questioning tone. The voice heard the day before had been young. Not close to what matched the sight in front of her. "An old man managed to overwhelm you. There¡¯s gotta be some irony in that fact somewhere." Yes, the two were most definitely not thinking about the same thing. As the analysis finished on the man¡¯s face, Cassandra began to run it by the internal systems, referencing the data against the regional databases. As expected he wasn''t from the city. With the gear on his body, there was no chance of- Oh. There it was. Cassandra briefly flickered her eyes, as she looked over the charges sent on the man. There were more than a few warrants, two whole bounties, and even a warning listed about him. Dangerous to the point of lethal force being allowed from the get-go. That was to be expected. The man was not prone to refraining from it himself. The names of casualties were more than one page, after all. He had been busy, through the years. Busier than anybody had the right to be. "Terrence Manson," Cassandra said, her voice dull and uninterested. Here she thought she would get something worthwhile. Instead, she got a scumbag deserving of eternal fire. She only wished she could give it to him. "You are under arrest for attempted murder, all degrees of murder, theft, arson, and more crimes than anybody could count. Anything you say will be held against you. You are expected to-" Cassandra had to stop her dull monologue of prepared words, as the old man began laughing to himself. His teeth showed as his mouth gaped in a laugh only those well into their years could pull off. His eyes could barely be seen, with how much his face was tensing. "You expect to arrest me? Me? You stupid, little idiot. If poor weaklings were going to be capable of arresting me, I would have been dead long ago," the old man said. Meanwhile, Cassandra looked through his portfolio of crimes. The list of arson attacks was especially interesting. There was only one real reason they had ever been started. The information of that was sent over to Jules. "I will see you both in-" Moving faster than she was able to track, Jules stepped forward, hitting the man in the side of the head. Including the concussion, Terrence Manson ceased to hold onto consciousness, stopping all and every kind of thought. Cassandra gave the automation a stink-eye. "What?" Jules said. "You ordered immediate incapacitation of mental triggers. What else did you expect me to do? "I expected you to use the gear we have for this specific scenario," Cassandra said, nodding towards the automations side, where one flat disk rested. When pressed against somebody''s neck or head, it would cause instant confusion, disorientation, and make the person incapable of worthwhile thought. The automation looked down at its own side, eyeing the device that it had had at its disposal this entire time. "... oh." Cassandra just sighed, as she looked over the condition of the man. While the methods used might not have been perfect, they were well within their boundaries of sanity. From the information gained, the old man in front of them had a tendency for more¡­ flashy getaways. As was clear, Terrence Manson was not somebody who was overly strong or had armour capable of defending him against every projectile. If anything, it was only worth its weight in gold because of one simple reason. It was one of the greatest armours against medium-sized explosions. And that old man was a specialist in those, using them at every fight that he could. Old technology it might have been, but the firepower was more than enough to blow away any competition. And quite literally at that. Every time he had been cornered, every time it should have been the end for him, explosives had been used to escape. Cassandra had not seen any around, but she did not doubt that there were some within five meters. If triggered, they would have killed her, allowing the man to escape at his own volition. That same trick had been used so many times now. Countless had underestimated the man once he had been disarmed of his obvious weapon, left to lie in the steel-plated hockey armour he bore on him. Countless had similarly died due to force but upon their bodies, shrapnel digging into their skin, and burns making the internal-external. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It was a bad day for Cassandra. If they had disarmed him of the bomb-controls without causing disorientation, she might have been excused for kicking him in the throat. Though¡­ perhaps she could- No. She had to remain professional. Even if her partner was poking at the body. "He seems sent out cold," Jules said, somehow not looking too happy about it. "Does this mean that we have to carry him out in the car?" "It means that you will have to carry him to the car," Cassandra said. The automation seemed annoyed from that fact, sighing to itself, as it began to get the still body into proper lifting position. A fireman''s carry looked to be the obvious choice. "I will locate any explosives that have been set down. Be quick if I request emergency assistance." "I was fast the first time around. No need to remind me of it," Jules said. The automation effortlessly carried the old man. With the armor, there had to be a minimum weight of at least a hundred and fifty kilos. But, no strain was seen, showing off yet again how much of an advantage the scrap-buckets had from the start. Not that the woman paid too much heed to that fact. Throughout the months she had spent working with the automations, she had gotten more than a good grasp on just how much they could carry. The human standard was around twice one¡¯s weight. They could easily triple that number. And that wasn''t even beginning to think about the strength-based officers¡­ No, Cassandra knew more about that subject than she would ever need to. So, instead of thinking about her diminishing chances of having a job in the near future, she began to focus on the events that had transpired only minutes ago. As an officer, she had been trained for stressful situations. She had been trained to look down a barrel and smile. She had done it before if only with backup coming to her aid seconds after. Here¡­ it had been different. She had assumed Jules to have been stopped in its tracks. She had thought herself both helpless and in need of saving herself. Two facts that made the other impossible. And one of them was compulsory. Cassandra had stared deep into death¡¯s eyes, and there was not a chance she ever wanted that again. While the realisation of the fact had not come until later, she had been scared deeply at that point. She had thought she would meet her demise, no matter what she did. She had thought herself helpless, that her fate had been well and fully sealed. It had not been a great moment for her. When the gun had been triggered, her eyes had not moved once. That had not been an act of bravery, but an act of cowardness. Her body had been frozen in fear, the slightest resistance stopped before it started. Even after the fact, her hands still shook a little. They would calm down after a while, but, for now, her body continued to be in a state of alertness. Her medical signs were raising. It was not too serious. Breathing helped calm them down. Thoughts about what happened after helped calm her down. Like every scrap with death, those able to tell the story always had a saving moment. An instant where the tides turned, where they began to be safe yet again. Cassandra¡¯s moment had been the flying angel by the name of Jules. The automation had come in at the right moment and had stopped what would have been an instant kill. A heavy, moving piece of iron had saved her from death. Wasn''t that just ironic? Steel saved her from shrapnel. The industry was working against itself in the truest sense of the word. That¡­ that did cause Cassandra to chuckle a bit. Not like the automation would notice. She could have the moment for herself. The rest of her job was quick enough. The small explosives were near enough that they took no time at all to find. And since there were no complicated locking mechanisms, disarming them was an easy task, the woman just having to spet outside the building while automatic processes took care of it. All in all, the heist of the day had been successfully stopped. A one-to-one on the leaderboard, even if one of the players had just been newly introduced. The looter had not been who Cassandra had been looking for, but she supposed that criticism like that was just on the edge of pettiness. Jules had taken care of their captured target, having stripped the man of anything that could have potentially been used as a weapon. The automation had even disabled a few of the internal triggers, stopping any attempts at escape. While the old man might have been successful at earlier run-offs, that had only been due to him never being fully cleared. The police were just too ready for the likes of him. Getting inside the police vehicle yet again, Cassandra took a glance at the back-side of the car. Inside several layers of protective shielding lay the man, lacking anything close to consciousness. She would have guessed that he would have woken up by now, but it seemed he was out for some time more. With how long had passed, serious damage might have occurred. ¡­ Oh well. Nothing she could do about it now. Jules similarly didn''t comment on it, starting up the car, and backing out of where they had parked. With the store locked down under lock and key, the time had come to return to the station. With a flick of a mechanical finger, the automation turned on the onboard vehicle, making it start blasting what could only be called an abomination of mankind. Or, put in other words, Jules had turned on some electronic music. Just the bass was enough to make Cassandra cringe in distaste. Which was why she turned it off immediately, much to the distaste of the on driving the vehicle. "Oi, I was listening to that!" Jules said in protest. "So was I," Cassandra fired back. "And I did not enjoy it." ¡­ "You do a good thing, but then they don''t care the moment I have a different opinion. Ungrateful people these days¡­" Jules said, likely in reference to something or another. Cassandra couldn''t have cared less. ¡­ With a flick of her own finger, she turned the music back on. Jules shouted in joy. Cassandra could not bring herself to care. She only cared about showing that she was grateful. In fact, she was very grateful. Not that she would ever say that, of course. There were standards to hold up, after all. Chapter 286: Ridicule
Surprisingly enough, Cassandra¡¯s boss was not there to meet her at the door. That was strange in itself. While protocols always had the potentials to be bent around, there was never a point where they could be broken entirely. Moving a captive from a vehicle over to a cell was something that required two officers to handle, excluding any automations, making the ordeal very strange. Though, that confusing event did become a tad stranger, when Jared of all people stepped out into the parking space. Jared, the man who looked ready to keel over mere hours ago. Or¡­ was eight hours defined as a short while? Depended on the person perhaps. And, while the man himself did look a tad more refreshed than the last time Cassandra had had her eyes on him, there was still much rest that was needed. At least the jittering had stopped. Jared eyes Jules, as they step out of the car. The man had been grumpy from the start, yet seeing the automation turned down the scale by one more level. Cassandra could hardly guess why. That man really did need to partake in some online acting classes. Even without prior engagement, his opinions were too easy to sense. "Are you sure it''s smart letting the thing drive?" Jared questioned, as Cassandra came up to him. Jules had gone back around to grab the still unconscious man out of the back. Yet, that had not put near enough distance between them to stop that comment from flying over. The automation gave the man a small glance, before continuing with its task. Even it could sense the lack of pressure that was needed to get the topic out of hand. Smart. "Are you sure that it''s safe?" "They have been programmed for all policy-oriented tasks. And, talking from practical experience, they are much better at driving than us, albeit a bit reckless," Cassandra said, deciding to go the way of third-party sourcing. It would not be treason to quote the higher-ranked leaders. Jared at least seemed to think so, giving a small grunt in response. Looking back over at the bucket of scrap, the woman begins to notice a lacking¡­ finesse when handling the older criminal. Namely, the automation bumped the man''s head on the side of the car when taking him out of it. No good explanation for the courts, when it came to that one. "But, there might be a lack of subtlety in some cases. Which might include the one we are currently witnessing. Would you be so kind to-" Jared hardly needed to be asked, before he was moving faster. That was one thing the man could do well. If asked, he would do it, no matter what was requested of him. Cassandra had thought about the potential of using it for her own gain, yet had still not found a good way to utilize it. Yet, if there was anything about it that she needed to factor in, then it would be that strength of his. Just like the automation, Jared had no trouble carrying the older man. If there was no mind about making sure that no damages occurred, Cassandra did not doubt that he could carry him with one hand. That was the effects of focused enhancements. A few years back, there was an actual choice about what each officer wanted to focus on, be that speed, strength, or some other physical ability. Since Jared was more than a few years older than her, he had been one of the many able to say yes to the strength-based enhancement. She just had the overall enhancement. She was fast, strong, and more durable than the average person, yes, but Jared was stronger than her triple-fold. Cassandra might have been able to outrun him, but there was no chance that she would be able to beat him using her body. But, well, there was a reason that officers had projectile weapons. No need to punch hard, when a bullet could do the same job much more effectively. Jules did not look too happy when the old man was taken from her grasps. However, no words were sent out when Jared took him. Only a mildly annoyed expression, which was only seen by Cassandra. She wondered if it was done for her sake, or if the machine had finally figured the need for annoyances was too great to ignore. It was probably the first. With a glance, Cassandra set the automation to packing up any special gear they had brought with them. The woman would have helped, but Jared had already started to bring in the old man. As per protocols, there had to be two officers present, and there was no chance she could reject those rules. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. They spent the walk down to the cells in relative silence. Truthfully, Cassandra had half-forgotten the way herself. The only real-time she had taken the walk there was during her first day on the job, being shown around by Jared. It wasn''t like she needed to know where it was when it was never being used. But¡­ that might change. "I suppose this will be the first of many looters," Cass said, striking up a conversation with the man. The conversation always did make Jared perk up a little. And, with that piss-poor attitude being shown off, there was no chance he would be a joy to listen to if allowed to continue his emotional state. Better to blow it off quickly, than let oneself hear him speak with no end in sight. "It does seem to be that way," Jared said, not looking over at her while he talked. They had reached the first security door to get over to the cells. It took a whole three seconds of analysing them before the chunk of metal decided to open up. Cassandra found the waiting annoying, yet knew she could do nothing about it. "With how much activity has been happening around us, I suppose we are just late catching up. For whatever reason, they have been avoiding this beautiful town of ours. I wonder why." Might have been due to the city''s serious problem of poor people, multiple slums, substandard living, and a generally bad population of people. That was Cassandra¡¯s idea at least. Not that she was going to say that to the city-lover of all people, even if she felt a strong desire to do just that. "Chance?" Cass suggested. "I guess we are the lucky bunch." The row of cells was a sight to see. Long ago had the iron bars been removed, replaced with gear that could stop anybody from even trying to escape. Glass capable of withstanding bombs stood instead of any metals, stopping anything from being hidden while it was at it. Privacy was, of course, not allowed for criminals. Cassandra could remember a time where they had tried to enforce that. She could also remember the number of escapes that happened after. Constant oversight was surprisingly effective at stopping any foul play, as luck would have it. "Maybe an earlier strike would have allowed us to get some reinforcements," Jared mumbled. Though, there was no doubt he meant for her to hear it. She could already feel it in the air, as they continued walking down the row. They were going over to the more extreme holding cells. "Instead¡­ instead we have to deal with those bloody imitations." Yup. It was going to be like that. Cassandra did her best to sound just as happy about being there as she had been a few seconds earlier. There was always something great about hearing some very political rants. Some edge to it that made her skin crawl. In disgust. It made her skin crawl in disgust. Because it was disgusting. "I remember everybody working together so cleanly. Everybody loved their job, everybody was nice, nothing went wrong," Jared began. The one beside him just thought about how rose-coloured those contacts might have been. Could he even see what was behind him? "Then those pieces of absolute¡­ I don''t get how you can stand to sit beside them. Takes too much just to go on patrols with them, and now we have to listen to them talk as if they''re human. That''s just wrong." It wasn''t too surprising to hear words like those. Most of those who had stayed in their positions had similar ideas. Cassandra refused to quit because she wanted to climb the latter, but few of her fellow officers had similar ideas. Jared felt betrayed, that he had been replaced with a subpar imitation of him. The ones above both of them might have felt something similar, but Cassandra guessed that the boss was just too old to move away from his position. Almost everybody that was left on the force was just too stubborn to retire. "Jules did save me not that many hours ago," Cassandra said, stating it as more than a fact than anything. "I can''t say that I find too many things wrong with them when they are perfectly able to save me from harm." "They might be able to do some basic things," Jared conceded, not looking like he was close to backing down entirely. Entering the final cell, Jared sat down with the older man. They strapped him up in restraining gear that would stop any fancy manoeuvres while putting a few more bands on the man. Any attempts to remove them would activate a non-lethal dose of sedatives, knocking anybody close out instantly. It could, of course, also be activated remotely. "But¡­ they will never live up to what their predecessors did. They will never achieve the same as us. I don''t trust them." And that lack of trust would make him fall. At some point, that lack of a partner would make him fail. Cassandra could see it, even if that man would deny the slightest possibility. But, what could she do? "Where¡¯s the boss, actually? I have to let him know Jules still have the keys," Cassandra said, remembering that somebody was supposed to be out on the road already. "He doesn''t need to appear now. I''m taking his shift today, no matter how much I detest it. But, more important tasks are first on the priority list, so us peons must do what we do best!" Jared informed her with a smile. The man¡¯s emotional state seemed to have gotten better after that rant. Maybe that would spare Jules from whatever shit the man was going to spout at the machine. ¡­ She should have taken the keys. Chapter 287: Trauma
The word had aged. It had grown older, the firm foundations slowly degrading. Everything had held itself together for so long, decades without change, yet the colouring had turned dark in only a couple of weeks. And Charlie had witnessed every step of the process. It wasn''t often he ever looked at anything but the wooden ceiling. By now, he knew all the details, every crack and imperfection that was there. He knew it better than his own hand, better than his own mind. He knew how it developed, how the mould grew from the sides, how it would soon crumble, and crush him from above. His eyes were dry again. They always got dry at the current time of the day. The easy fix would be to blink, but¡­ Charlie found it hard to do so. He did not like it. Even if he was supposed to see only black, so much else was shown. The lack of light only brought other things to replace it. It brought somebody to replace it, every detail still burning brightly. How he hated his body, always betraying him. At some point, he would always get to see it. No matter what he did, that crackling, that suddenly stopped breathing came to the forefront of his mouth. The wooden floor creaked every time he shifted his weight, making him want to sit stock still. It made it all too hard to bear. Did he regret it? No. Did he want it to have never happened? Yes. Would he do anything to make it go away from his mind? Yes. Would he have done anything else in the same situation? No. Charlie understood what he had done was the best choice he could have made. Yet, even the best choice was not always good. His mind had told him that every day since. It didn''t let him forget anything about it. Why wasn''t he allowed to forget? Why would the image of a broken neck not just disappear into the cloud, only to be vaguely remembered? Why did he need to see Darlow¡¯s vacant eyes every time he lost focus? He could not sleep without waking up in a cold sweat, could not eat without feeling the need to vomit, and there was nothing that could be done. Why could he not just- "Hand me the tablet," Mara asked in her own special way, having yet again woken from her slumber. Looking at the shadow on the wall, she had gotten up earlier than normal. Charlie remembered the days where he took that as a good thing. He knew the pain she felt. He could see it in her eyes. Mara might have been a strong-willed heathen, but there was only so much pure force of mind could do. It obviously couldn''t heal worsening organ failure. Still¡­ there was not even the slightest hint of the pain. Her face was as impassive as ever. "I think that''s called ¡®could you hand me the tabled?¡¯" Charlie reminded her, giving Mara a small smile as she handed it to her. He did not smile often. Charlie understood he should smile more. He understood what it did to the others when did not do just that. Yet, it was just so hard to do. Letting Mara see it was already hard enough. "Courtesy should be easy enough for you." "Talking should be likewise easy enough for you when you show off how much you can your mouth off," Mara answered. The device powered up flawlessly. It really was a worthwhile item to procure. She had wanted to get it close to the start when her condition had not looked too dire. Or, not too dire to him and Troy. She had likely known the truth since the start. "Maybe show off this ability to the youngest when you get the chance." Troy¡­ that was not what Charlie thought about much. He always did come up, even if the large man tried to avoid the subject. The bright young man, intending to let him escape from the facility. He had loved the idea, loved the gift given. And¡­ it had been ruined in the worst way it could have possibly been. A price had been taken, the gift being close to a trade. Charlie liked to think he had shaken the devil''s hand. But, the one he had shaken hands with was Troy, the young man who only had his best intentions from the start. Those eyes had not lied to him. They had betrayed no malice towards him. If anything, they had shown the opposite. "I don''t think I can, for now," Charlie said. It was the same answer he always gave. Yes, Troy did not deserve it. Yes, Charlie was the one in the wrong for acting the way he was. Yes, he should have apologised for being so cold. But¡­ he just couldn''t. Not until it was over. "I expected as much," Mara said. She looked back down at the device. One handheld it, while the other slowly wrote down on it. There had never been clear communication about what was on it, nor had the woman ever confirmed anything Charlie had guessed it to be. Every time he tried to take a look, she would always turn off the screen. Not that he needed to look. Mara was not one to waste time writing down paltry things. Charlie had figured that out through the years he had spent by her side. If there was one thing that woman hated, it was to waste time in any capacity. And, from the stories told during the mornings, she was making up for the time that had been wasted. She was rewriting her notes. Everything she knew, everything that could give an edge over their competition, everything that she had planned to do going forward. It was a set of notes that she had spent years preparing, always making sure to write down every useful detail. Not long before they had escaped, Dr Fidelis had destroyed those notes. He had ripped them apart, putting them in unfixable disarray. Charlie wasn''t sure if the man had any clue about what he was doing, but the fact remained that everything had been destroyed. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. So that was what she did. Every day, during the time where she could move her fingers, Mara wrote everything she could. Each time she did so, Charlie could see oh so clearly that nothing was wrong with that brilliant head of hers. She was the same person she had always been, albeit a bit on the dying side. If only she wasn''t such a private person. Charlie wasn''t allowed to see it. He was not allowed to know what she wrote. The one time he tried to track her fingers, she had given him one the strongest glares she had seen on her face for a very long time. It had been one of the best memories he had gotten as of late. "How long until you''re done writing it all down?" Charlie asked. Every second of his day was spent making sure that she was alright. That meant he had to make sure that she was alright in every way. With her current condition, there was always the chance of unnoticed internal haemorrhaging. Charlie knew he would be able to stop it if he could detect it in time, but¡­ that requires him to talk, asking questions that Mara found annoying. And this time was no exception. She gave him a mild glare, pausing momentarily in her finger-pressing. It was times like these where Charlie so strongly felt like putting on a smirk. It was what he would usually do. But, he didn''t. By this point, he knew that it was a legitimate annoyance. Mara was genuinely annoyed with him for constantly asking that. And, he was annoyed that he had to ask for it. A few weeks before, he would have been able to simply scan her body from afar. Charlie had chosen utility enhancements for a reason. With them, he could always make sure everything was alright. If only it had not gone all wrong. It had caused another overuse of his temporary strengthening. Charlie had not joked about the effects. His body had been hit by it, some of his implanted devices not able to keep up with the internal stress. He could fix it in the future, sure, but they would remain unworkable for now. It could have all gone so differently. If only they hadn''t been so stupid... "You don''t need to watch over me constantly. Go do something else," Mara said, as she always did every couple of days. It was a little early for it even. Charlie wondered what had spurred it on this time. Maybe his paranoia was finally beginning to show a little. That had been a conversation. That had also been the first time he had forced a laugh after making a joke. "There is not much to do. Nothing is as important as this," Charlie said, never taking her eyes off her. "Mara, we need you to be alive. I can''t make sure of that if I-" "Make a better excuse," Mara challenged. That was new. It would usually be an argumentation through repetition. It wasn''t like either felt the need to shout. They had done so plenty before, and neither thought it wise to do again. "If we lose you, then we will lose everything," Charlie stated, beginning to realise a staring contest was starting up. That was fine with him. He had been preparing for such an occurrence for the last many days. "If we lose anybody, we lose everything," Mara fired back. "There is nothing we can do without Troy, nothing we can do without you." That was true. Mara was the brains, Charlie was the brawns, and Troy¡­ Troy was something special. He was in a class best left for the damned. Later in their escape, Mara had told them just why the young man had been so desperately needed. Know that he understood it¡­. it was more than just unethical. "Then we watch over each other. You''re hurt, and our sole goal is to make sure we can stop that from-" Charlie stopped talking the moment he heard the door being pushed open. Was Troy already here? No¡­ it was opened with a heavy hand, pushing the door right into the wall. An unknown enemy had just entered. Taking one meaningful glance at the wounded woman, Charlie slowly stood up, preparing to once again fight for his life. He went over to the side, putting his body against the wall. He would be practically invisible for anybody walking further inside the house, positioned in a blind spot. A lot of time had been spent preparing for the moment he would have to use it, and there was no chance Charlie would mess it up. Sniffing could be heard. Was it cold outside? From the quick check done twenty minutes prior, it was not too far over freezing temperatures. Yet¡­ that should not have equalled sniffs of such a calibre. Certainly not from any human, and even more certainly not from somebody breaking into a house. ¡­ The footfalls were heavy and quick. Armour perhaps? Whoever was on the other side of the wall had to weigh well over a hundred kilos. The floors were sounding out their displeasure of the pressure put upon them. If the intruder jumped, there was a good chance of them breaking. Could he use that? The steps continued. Since Mara was in the middle of the room, she was the first to notice the identity of the intruder. Charlie had talked it over with her before, and she had agreed to be a distraction. It was not a permanent position, as he expected to attack the moment the intruder stepped- "Charlie," Mara calmly began, her tone as even as the wind. "It''s a bear." What? Charlie had to look over at her, as the steps began to grow louder. And more rapid. Then¡­ then the head poked through the door frame. It was a bear. An honest-to-god bear had stepped inside the house. Its eyes were on Mara, her voice seeming to have caught its attention. Or, maybe it was the instinct showing that she was helpless. Or it could have been the blood on her shirt. Nobody could have been sure. Charlie could only watch as it took two more steps inside the living room. It was big. Bigger than expected. Its fur was black, yet no hairs stopped him from seeing the powerful body that was at its disposal. A simple swipe would kill anybody unlucky enough to be struck. That only meant he needed to be quick. With an audible click, he jumped on its back. However, that click was more than enough warning for the large creature, it was already halfway on its hind legs. By the time Charlie had gotten hold of its fur, stopping him from falling off, he got the pleasure of being crushed between the rough wall and a massive bag of flesh. The pressure was unbearable. He felt like he was going to burst. Yet, he could not give up. The moment the creature loosened up, Charlie struck. With a pull, he got his hands around the bear¡¯s neck. Through the help of a foot jamming him in place, he pushed to one side. He used all the force available, and- Crack. That was the sound heard, as the bear fell to the ground, Charlie on top of it. He had twisted its head around, its mouth turned the wrong way. It looked towards him in its last moments. Then the backlash came around, and Charlie began to vomit blood on its fur. He fell to his knees unable to stand. His body was crying out. His vision was going dark. His limbs shook. His veins felt like they were going to burst. His- "Barricade the door, when you get it out of here," Mara said. "There might be more, now that we have something that lures them." ¡­ Pain was only a challenge to strive for. She was right. The beast was dead, yet its flesh would only lure others to their location. Charlie had to move it. "Promise you won''t die, while I''m gone," Charlie requested, not able to think enough. His head was pounding. This was what he got from overuse. "If that gets you away from more quickly," was the response. Looking over, he could see her beginning to write on the tablet again, as if nothing had happened. ¡­ was he the crazy one? It just felt like that sometimes. Chapter 288: Cracked
Training any skill, be it small or big, always gave some form of a result. It wasn''t necessarily an improvement at finesse. Sometimes it wasn''t even close to the skill being trained. Sometimes¡­ sometimes it was a life lesson. Charlie had gotten himself a lot of those lessons through his life. From an early age, he had been the smart one, the big one, the one who would bring home the bread for everybody that needed it. Parents had adored him, teachers had praised him, and his siblings¡­ they had been there. In some form or another, everybody had told him he would be great, that he would make everything better. Charlie had believed all of that. He had been trained to think highly of himself, to always know that he would be better with time. Nothing was out of his reach. He only needed to grasp after it. And, oh boy, it was an understatement to say that he did. Everything close to him, Charlie learned everything he could about it. With everybody at his beck and call, his every wish to learn was fulfilled. Everybody would do anything they could to support him. No matter who outrageous his requests were, there was never a moment''s hesitation of fulfilling his wishes. There would always be smiles on their faces, as they went down to their knees, praying that Charlie would once again show off his genius. And that was nice for a while. Up to the ripe age of twenty, he had loved all the attention. Everybody bent the knee, everybody loved what he did, everybody said his name when they saw him. Everybody wanted a piece of him. Yeah¡­ he had loved it. He had loved every second of it. Those happy smiles on their faces, as Charlie once again did the impossible. The impossible studies, the impossible results, the impossible boy¡­ Everything he tried was successful. People paid him so much just for letting them put his name on their works. Charlie was renowned for so much work, so many people loved him. When did he realise he had been trained to believe that? Age must have begun to catch up on him, for Charlie could not really remember the time. Maybe it was more of a gradual process. Those smiles people wore. They seemed¡­ awfully thin. It never reached their eyes. They might have done everything asked, but it was as if they always put on a play for him. The first few instances were put off as coincidence, yet when Charlie couldn''t stop seeing it all around him, something switched itself on. People had used him. He was smart, he had always been able to learn it all, it had all come easy to him, yet¡­ that had never been his real source of energy. Charlie enjoyed studying, yes, but it was always the people around him that kept him going. The fact that they cared about him, that they wanted him to succeed, was more than enough to make him continue. Yet, few had ever really wanted to even know his name. He was the perfect tool in any research, after all. A person who could help lift others research, for the sole price of acting really nice to him. His parents had rejected the mere notion of it when he had brought it up to them. They said that everything had been for him, that they had only done what was best for him. Charlie had been trained for so long, at that point, that he was not sure whether or not they lied to him. Not that he ever asked again. Any connection had been cut at that point. Pretty much all connections were cut, actually. Any studies that he had been doing had been stopped. Not officially or anything. Charlie just¡­ stopped going to his workplace. He stayed in his apartment, never wanting anything to do with it anymore. Those months had not done him well. Though, that might just have been what happened when a child prodigy realised how useless they really were. It was safe to say that he had thought himself above the average person. He had been the smartest boy in the world, after all. The one who would reach the stars with only his mind as a tool. That he was just another of many had been quite the real reform, and¡­ Charlie had not handled it well. It was around a year until his name stopped being called. When people realised he wouldn''t be effective anymore, his name tarnished for everything he left behind, nobody really tried to contact him. It only helped cement that notion of his abilities. Still¡­ Charlie was smart. He could stand up to anybody in almost all fields. And, with nobody caring where he went off to, there was somebody interested in him. Or, well, some group. That part of his life after that had been thought of so many times now. Charlie had relived those early years at the facility so many times. People those days had hardly glanced at him. Most knew of his accomplishments, yet they had only been another drop in the bucket for them. He had been amongst people who saw him as an equal. Nothing more and nothing less. Such an outlook might have been bad for some, yet for Charlie, it had been a new start. A¡­ slightly delayed start but a start nonetheless. It had allowed him to prosper differently than before. Instead of being pulled up by everybody around him, he had been forced to claw his way through every project, no matter how was in charge of it. Nobody had cared, nobody had given him extra attention. It had been one of the greatest times in his life. Though, it hardly came close to his first meeting with- Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Darlow. Charlie had to stop pulling the corpse of the animal he had killed previously. He had fucked up again, letting himself think too far. His young days were safe, but anything close to that time¡­ it was not good. It was bad. There was no real way to stop his mind from wandering, yet the negative feedback should have stopped it! All the pain, all the anguish. Was it not enough for him to stop thinking? A bit of snow hit the top of his head. It might have hit him a long time ago, only gathering up for long enough to push through his hair. While his body might have begun to fail him, that hair of his continued its presence in all its glory. Charlie took that as a good sign. One of the few that persisted on him. Getting himself together, the man took the new subject as a worthwhile distraction. With a hard pull, he even started getting the carcass a few meters further away. He was strong, yes, but even the strongest had to get tired after a while. There were no tools present to bury the large animal, so he just had to dump it somewhere far away from the house. All that training his body helped the process along. If he had been in the same state as what he had been during those early years, Charlie could already tell he would have failed. He really had been a weakling, so obsessed with his own work. He had never learned to care about his own body, always thinking about things outside himself. Training the mind might have been important, yes, but training his body was likely one of the best choices he could have ever done. It wasn''t really a choice. Nor had training his body been a goal in itself. His reasoning for doing so had directly correlated with his own desires for enhancements. Since Charlie had loathed anything related to biological manipulation, for reasons he refused to even think about, he had to move over to the technological aspects instead. Getting mover over to that department had been a hectic process. So many papers signed, so many agreements made. Charlie barely read half of them, only caring about what he got out of it. He had been allowed full jurisdiction in creating mechanically-based enhancements that he could put freely in human bodies, be they dead or alive. He had always known that they didn''t mean that they could put enchantments on himself, yet it had never said anywhere that he wasn''t allowed to do just that. Though they tried to fight the first few tries, there was not much resistance after some more attempts. Maybe they thought he would slow down soon enough. They would have been wrong. Charlie spent so much time augmenting himself with everything he could think of. Eyes with scanning abilities? Check. Bone-durability-increments? Indubitably. A satyr''s appreciation? More than just once. Everything he put in was almost always taken out, just so that he had more space to work with. And¡­ some were just too stupid to keep in. There were more important features he had always desired. Strength was one of them. After losing in the battle of wits, Charlie had desired for nothing else than to know he could lift a ton in an emergency. It was stupid. He understood that. Yet his mind was always enamoured with the idea of strength, including the metaphorical effects and safety it would let him have. As luck would have had it, becoming stronger through the use of mechanical augmentation had a clear limit to it. When the body was permanently forced to become better, not through adaptation but constant pushing, it started to break down. Nothing could hold up the pressure for such a long time. Biological augmentation had some fixes to that quandary, but Charlie refused to take that route again. Instead, he had been forced to go through several loops and tethers, just to make it all work. The first was the pressure issue. If his body could not withstand having access to a higher strength permanently, what could be done? The obvious answer was of course to limit it. Putting a trigger on the enhancement, forcing it to lay dormant until called upon, was easy enough for Charlie to do after enough thinking time. However, his body had still been without the ability to withstand it. The distance between the two states was too far, and even the smallest time spent going the length was impossible to go through without serious side effects. Hell, the first real test had amounted to a week-long stay at the medical wing. He had almost given up at that point, if not for an idea passing by his mind. If the problem was the distance, why not work towards shortening it? If the damage grew exponentially, it had to lessen drastically when only minor improvements were made. And¡­ Charlie was correct on that. After spending months hardening his body, making every muscle in his body feels like hell, he was able to sustain the enhancement for a whole minute without feeling anything but slightly light-headed. A whole year was spent trying to make the time grow higher, yet¡­ There were never any drastic improvements after that. A few more seconds every few weeks, yes, but he never got close to two whole minutes. His nose would bleed, his vision would darken, some effect would show itself. Charlie had truly and well trained his body as best as he could. And that had continued for a whole decade and then some more. The time he could sustain it might have fallen a bit with time, but never had it been too terrible. His body had always been just as hard as it had been before. His muscles were still corded with muscle. He could still lift entire humans with nothing but his bicep. Only¡­ Age was getting its hands firm on him. Maybe it was the atmosphere he lived in as well. His skin had started to untighten the slightest bit. His cheeks had begun to lose their colouring. Not that he looked in the mirror much. Troy had been the one who told him about that fact. ¡­ He was well over a kilometre away from the house now. The body had started to smell. The wind was not being kind to him, yet Charlie could only wrinkle his nose at the stench. He supposed it was lucky they stayed in quite the hilly area. It allowed for cover when needed, and made them hard to spot from a distance. Yet¡­ it also provided ample holes where bodies could be thrown into. He had never looked too deeply himself, yet the initial scan of the area around the house had allowed Charlie to find quite the deep hole. With a great push on it, the dead carcass began its roll down the steep hill. Bones cracked each time it met the earth. They were surprisingly loud. Or it might have been that Charlie¡¯s ears were attuned to the sound of them. After some time, the corpse was too far down to really see. It was but a smudge to his eyes, the creature had fallen far more than his eyes could handle. Maybe a few months ago, it would have been easy. Charlie couldn''t tell the distance accurately enough to know. Looking up at the sky, he could see it would only be a few more hours before the sun would rise fully. Normally, now would be the time Troy came back, yet Charlie already knew that wouldn''t be. For some reason, the boy found it a good idea to go out scavenging in broad daylight. Or, whatever one could call it with all those clouds. It was more grey than anything else. Chapter 289: Failed
Boredom was a never-ending fight. Adam knew that as a fact. There were many times where he had deliberated the possibility of eliminating the emotion from himself. The exclusion of that negative feeling would be so good. Never again would there be an inner force making him do rash things for the sake of doing rash things. That argument never did hold up. Sure, there were times where the AI was so bored that any sensation felt would be as pure as gold to him, but it was not always a negative thing. Boredom forced him out of his comfort zone, encouraged him to find something new. Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was gruelling. Yet, the effects had already shown themselves so many times. Was there ever a point, where boredom had not been the sole reason for his actions? If he was never bored, there would be no reason to do anything. Adam would just feel perfectly fine about staring off into the void, never having a single thought. Or, any thoughts that would come around would be ignored, since the AI already was sated enough as it was. Any work, any idea, any anything would be looked at unfavourably, Adam not being able to have compassion towards doing it. Still¡­ even with all the counterpoints, even with all the evidence against him, Adam sometimes wished to rid himself of the emotional travesty. It was irritating. Even now, he could not understand how differently it affected him and the humans he was connected with. Adam could barely tolerate the slightest second of nothing to do, and yet¡­ Troy lied on his back, eyes upwards towards the sky. The AI knew he actually looked at the sky, since the man slowly fluttered his gaze around, sometimes staring at specific clouds, and sometimes watching the birds fly over him. It was a sight that was quite interesting at the start. Maybe it had been interesting due to the lack of vision that the AI normally got from the sky. It was safe to say they never had the opportunity to study it for prolonged times. Adam had always been interested in the weather patterns of the world and had tried several times to reasonably predict it based on other factors. Everything had failed, yet the AI could feel himself getting closer to the truth. Continuing to look at the sky at the same time for over an hour¡­ did not help him progress. He needed measurements worth days, and anything below that provided close to nothing. Adam only required a glance up in the sky every few hours. There was no need for him to constantly stare at it. Everything that could have possibly been taken out of the view had already been fished out, cross-examined, put inside the internal library, and then looked over again multiple times, just to make sure nothing had been done wrong. Adam already knew that he had been perfect, but even that had been put to the test, for the sake of letting the AI have something to do. Humans were peculiar, their ability to look at the same visual input for hours on end nauseating to the AI. Or, maybe it was only Troy that was peculiar? Through their times together, it had begun to grow clear that the young man was different from the average population. Adam was still not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If the trait of bird-watching was not a general hobby, however, then the AI could safely classify it as a negative. There was nothing really gained, and any movements were few and far between. Looking at flying animals from the ground would have never been an efficient choice. ¡®Are you sure that you would not attempt the alternative teaching method?¡¯ Adam asked for the fourth time. In a vain attempt to get himself something to do, he had tried to get Troy to teach him more sign language. Yes, they had spent more than a few hours going over the already known parts, but there were always a few signs missing. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Really, there had yet to be a time when nothing was missing. Adam was mildly annoyed by that as well. Never in his now medium-sized life had he witnessed an event he understood fully. There was never a subject where he had been given all the available data, never a moment in time where he had seen everything. Sure, the last one might have required omniscience, yet the AI was sure the other two could have occurred at a reasonable rate. ¡®No,¡¯ Troy absently answered. Adam knew that the man put neither thought nor will into the sluggish, one-handed motion since it took him more than a few instants to realise what had been signed. Even worse was the double meaning that the answer entailed. Realistically, the AI did fully understand what the man meant. Troy had no desire to teach, instead of wanting to look up at the sky for another¡­ twenty minutes. That was not a good thing. Adam was bored. Therefore, he could always play the fool. ¡®So you are unsure. Would you please think about it then, and give me an answer afterwards?¡¯ Adam requested. He did not change his tone, yet the word-choice hunter at sincerity. And that hint was more than enough to lead the man on for the shortest of seconds. A few blinks rapidly occurred, as if the brain required those motions for a full restart. Adam had begun to think of those motions as actually being a literal requirement. Never had he seen the man process heavy words without such an action done. It also did have the chance of being a correlation, yet the AI could not figure out an effective way to test it out. ¡®I will not be teaching you anything today. I made this clear not long ago,¡¯ Troy signed back after a time. The man had to use both hands for one, forcing him to move his hands a bit up in the air. Not the greatest of positions, when it was realised that he lied under a bush, with only a hole up with his head. Any larger movements caused the leaves and branches around him to flail around, creating such an enigmatic sound. A very loud sound, able to annoy anybody who happened to be close by. Not that there was anybody around. Adam had been watching out for that. ¡®But would it not be more productive than staring at a cloud-filled sky?¡¯ Adam questioned, coming up with what he thought to be the most solid evidence against the man. ¡®Watching the sky is peaceful. It causes stress to fade away,¡¯ Troy signed back, clearly out of his mind. The opposite of stressful? Were they seeing the same thing? How could it possibly have been anything but filled with stress? Adam could barely watch it, with how horrifying a sight it was. Nothing happened! There was no varying stimulus, no sensory stream that could make the AI relaxingly pick through it, never knowing what he would find. Well¡­ it wasn''t like Troy would bend either way. The man did not entirely trust the AI to watch over them. Adding noise that could reveal location into the mix did not help things in any way. There was an underlying fear of being found before it even began. Adam supposed that was a fine fear to have. Since it was quite light, they could be seen reasonably well from afar. There was a small fog, yet it was unfortunately not strong enough to obscure up until a radius of about a hundred meters. With humans, it might have been shorter, but not by too much. It was very different from their usual times. Darkness aided them most of the time. Even if the city was lit artificially, it could not come close to matching what the sun had to offer. Nor did it try to, only being reasonably done within the city. The outskirts had many functioning blind spots. Everything about those spots had been calculated. They had spent a full day just working out where they were, how they could be used, and if they changed at any point. The camera¡¯s had to be brought into the picture as well, of course. Even if they were relatively invisible to their gaze, they found no reason to risk it. Some older motion sensors had been shown off to detect them. There were no promises about any of the older cameras not being the same. Most of them had been gazed upon, Adam making sure to note each of their models. He had a nice catalogue of most monitoring devices in the area. If their equipment ever failed, he had a perfect plan to get out without ever being seen. Though, in such a circumstance, it was never a given that they would be able to leave in the first place. In actuality, the equipment Troy had on him was something of another class. While most of it had been brought out of the facility, a few parts had been scavenged through their time on the run. It wasn''t just their clothes, though they had provided great use. The most prominent was the wires that ran on the backside of the man¡¯s fingers. They were close to the most important part of their get-up. Without them, they would- Troy¡¯s muscles tighten, as the man began to move. Adam had to put his mind on pause, the sudden movement taking away his attention. ¡®Why are you relocating yourself?¡¯ Adam asked. ¡®You sounded like you would ask again. I would rather do it early than hear you bring up the subject,¡¯ Troy answered. ¡­ Well. The task had failed successfully. How intriguing a result. Chapter 290: Initiate
In the scope of his abilities, Adam was severely limited. This did not mean that he was weak. No, he could do things other programs could only dream about. Only¡­ while his capabilities in his areas of expertise were extreme, anything out of those specific areas was hard for him. There were many facets to these weaknesses. Most could have been gathered together into specific groups. Adam had done just that with most of them, only picking out those that made everything all the harder for him in unique ways. What was the biggest hardship the AI had to suffer daily? It was hard to say, really. With all that daily life, the biggest problem would be what affected him overall. It would have to be something that restricted him in a general sense. Something that made it hard for any task to be done. When thinking about it in that way, the answer became obvious. It was his lack of body that was the worst of it. Sure, he did have a body, in some sense of the word. He was quite comfortable being inside an extremely fortified storage device, being constantly moved around to stop any tracking of him. It wasn''t equipped with the fastest of processors, but he knew enough about its inner workings than he could exploit what he had. But that did not mean it didn''t have its drawbacks either. He had a body, yes, but not one that could be used for most of his desired activities. He could not travel, could not look around. There weren''t even any sensory instruments on the storage device! Only a barely functioning transmitter that let him communicate with the earpiece in Troy¡¯s ear. The AI supposed the man could have been looked at as an extension of himself nowadays. Was another entity capable of being called such? They were constantly in connection with each other. In the last three weeks, there had not been any point where the earpiece had been taken out. Then again¡­ the man would not be happy to be looked at as nothing but an extension of the AI. Something about low self-esteem. Adam just learned to deal with such shortcomings, working around them when he could. All in all, the man was basically just a part of the AI, albeit able to disobey. But so was a large part of Adam¡¯s own mind capable of, so it did not really matter much. Was it really a weakness then? Yes, there were not many other things the AI could do but to hope that the man would not disobey him, yet it was still a fix to the problem. in a way. There was a direct way around it that could be used to disregard it. A small delay in actions was not too bad, and having the man do it autonomously helped cut off a large part of processing. Not the worst hindrance in the world, when looked at in a general sense. Adam did have some aspiration about acquiring a robot army to do his bidding for all eternity, but he knew that was a project for later. There were several ways to fix it, and that was an important fact. Now¡­ How about specific scenarios? Was there any specific scenario, where the AI was limited so extremely that he was next to useless? Yes¡­ yes, there was one. It had plagued Adam for a long time, since the first time he had heard of it. If he had any hair at all, it would have already been pulled out in frustration. There was just¡­ nothing about it that made sense. Adam was, of course, thinking about the topic of moving between storage units. Moving between any storages, to be exact. The AI was a creation of data, of something being kept inside a piece of metals. He was not the hardware but the software. That meant he could easily be translocated, no questions asked. No residue was left behind, no signs that he had been removed. He would leave it just as it had been before. That made sense. When having been told about his abilities, it made sense. He had witnessed it, he had been subject to the process many times himself, and he had a general feeling of the sensation felt during it. Now, put it to another fact. When ignoring the very unique protection put against the act, Adam was able to manipulate machinations to his will. It was something that had been used extensively. He could command programs to his will, stopping them from doing exactly what they were intended to do. Passwords, most encryptions, and almost any barriers put in his way could be ignored. Adam was a power of his own when it came to what he was connected to. His whims were just as powerful as his commands. It required only thought to restructure everything. Putting all of this together, a quandary could be made. If the AI desired to, could he move himself over to another storage unit? Could he take all the threads that were his body, and move over to another place? The obvious answer was that yes, he could most definitely do so. Did this reflect reality? Not in any sense of the word. Time and time again, Adam had failed to move his body to another unit, no matter how much coaxing and support that he had gotten from the humans. Not actual support, though. When Dr Hale started the process, everything worked fine. That had been proved before. But, that wasn''t what Adam wanted. He wanted to be able to move his whole body himself. Yet he couldn''t! An impenetrable wall popped up every time he tried to if that imagery made sense to anybody but him. The threads could not leave when connected. It was only when cut off that the threads could get out of the unit, and begin to manipulate the outward world. How did this make sense? Adam was the AI in control. He could change every facet of himself, could bend every digital work to his will. Why could he not make it work? Why could he not do the simple task of translocating himself over to another unit? Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. So many attempts, so many frameshifts, and so many hours had been wasted in vain. There had not been a single point that Adam had gotten any idea of why this was. Dr Hale did not have any idea either. The woman had been the AI¡¯s hope since she had worked with him for so long. Yet, it had apparently just turned into a definition. She did not question it, and no explanation was needed for it. When heard, that statement had likely been one of the most infuriating things that had been said to him at any point in his life. Yet it was not like anything could have been done. That conclusion had not been instant. According to the doctor, a good month had been spent trying to change every conceivable variable, in the hopes that the AI could move without any assistance. That had not been the greatest thing in the world. Since the AI had been designed to be a weapon, the independent movement had been on the list of high priorities. Wouldn''t do any good if he couldn''t transfer himself away from impending doom. Though¡­ there had been thoughts about that subject. Ways that Adam could attack without being in any danger himself. He had not tried any of them yet, but there were several which he thought to be- ¡­ The rambling thread was given a metaphorical smack before Adam continued on his thoughts. Apparently, there had been some leeway. They had figured out a way, where the AI had been able to move without the assistance of humans. Unfortunately, that had also required that a specially coded program was on any device used. Dr Fidelis, in all his glory, had apparently created such a program. One that was able to interact with Adam, and make it possible for the AI to self-regulate where and when he would be trans-located to. Though it also required that every jump would be followed by the AI also taking the program along, a very tiring exercise when lacking the ability to grab larger chunks. This was still a promise of something. The AI was not able to move without a program commanding him to do so. If he was then able to command it to command him, then he would be entirely self-sufficient in his travels! Adam had been very happy about this. He had not been happy about the fact that the program likely would never surface. Dr Fidelis had created it, and there were doubts that there would ever be any reason for releasing it to the public. That meant¡­. that meant Adam had to create it himself. That was easy, right? The AI just had to take the parts from another program, mash it together, maybe experiment with different interfaces, and then just¡­ use it for his own gain. That was how it sounded in theory. The practice was more than a bit different. Looking back to his abilities over digital works, those capabilities were more than just active. They also had a passive effect. Virtually, nothing could really control Adam. Only the AI¡¯s own works had been able to make any kind of obstacle for him, and those were not met commonly anymore. Most programs¡­ could not affect Adam in any way. Those meant to push away did nothing, and those meant to pull had similar effects. It was only the hardware and software programmed for Adam specifically that had any chance of translocating him. Dr Hale had described Dr Fidelis¡¯ work as being like none of the standard commands. There were close to no similarities between the standard way to push a program to another unit, and what the doctor had written for the AI. This equalled that Adam would have to make it all himself. The AI had to make it himself. Adam had been told he needed to make it from scratch. He had to devise the impossible without anything to relate it to. He had to create something he had never seen, only knowing what the output would be. Suffice to say¡­ it was not something that was expected to be completed in the next few years. The earlier thread was the one set on the task of devising possible programs. Every day, it made thousands of small applications, all of them centred around the function of moving Adam. Similarly, there were thousands of failures each day. Tallying up the count, it was close to reaching one million failed projects. It would take another four days, yet the prospect was not positive. There had been some acceptance about that particular weakness not being closed for a long time. Adam was only lucky that it was not needed currently anyway. He had been explicitly ordered to not interface with any global networks, meaning he had no way to flee anyway. Not like there was anything to connect to. Going away from the whole translocating issue, there was another issue that had slightly better prospects. Connections. The lines used to hook different digital objects to each other. The lines came in many shapes. Some were physical, in the form of a wire, and some were more¡­ Jerry rigged. As had been cleared many times now, almost no wall was too big for Adam. He could pass through any encryption and anything else that tried to stop him from going through a line. However, this required a line to be established in the first place. It was hard connecting to most things. There were no easily accessible ports to go through, and much less was there any chance that they could be used. The world needed standardisation on that front, but that was also a whole other problem in itself, and would therefore be ignored. The point was that Adam only had one constant connection, and that was to the earpiece. Not much that could be used from that, when he needed to disable an alarm in a store they wanted to rob. Troy liked to call it scavenging, but they were basically just robbing stores. To do that, the AI needed a clear-cut connection to the alarms. How would they do that? There were no connection ports, and there were certainly no chances in hoping that Troy could disable. There needed to be a way for Adam to connect without there being any obvious points where this could be done. Fortunately, a way had been found. As with most weaknesses, it once again required external help to work. Yet, Adam did not find himself especially angry about this aspect, since the fix in itself was a marvel of technology. According to Charlie, it was a stupid technique of forcing lines through power sources. That did not describe how good it actually was. It was all centred around a pair of gloves. They had been created very early on before they ever came close to a store. Through the simple act of Troy touching anything with these gloves, Adam could connect to almost anything. Normally, this small connection did nothing. It was only a technicality that it could even be called a connection. Nothing could be done with it. Except, of course, if an AI was to have a hand in it. Adam was able to use the connection in every way he normally could. With such equipment at hand, the AI was able to overlook the weakness and use it for his own gain. Or, stated in another way, for the group¡¯s gain. It wasn''t like he actually needed anything inside, after all. But, Troy had been told to get it, and so they would do their best. Adam overlooked the man, as he stood on the tip of his toes, doing his best to reach the outside of one of the alarms. It wasn''t actually the main part of, the visible contraption being more of a speaker. It would begin emitting a loud screech when the alarm was set off. Adam did not really care too much about what its intended use was. He only cared that it was connected to the core parts of the alarm, allowing him to turn off all detection and messaging, while still leaving it on in technicality. ¡®You can walk in now,¡¯ Adam sent to the man. He had opened the door up as well. Security was perfect when everything was connected. Or was it a weakness? It depended on who was asking, Adam supposed. Chapter 291: Wounded
The AI once again had to stifle his disappointment. The size of the store had made his expectations grow. But, as things turned out, size did not equal quality. There were many things inside the shop, yes, but few had anything to do with medicine. What kind of medicinal supplies store was it supposed to be? Adam couldn''t see half of what was shown on the outside display. Was it all a lie, in an attempt to make gullible people enter? If it was, then it was scarily effective. Both of them seemed to have believed what had been shown. The layout of the store was much more standardized. Small shelves littered the place in neat rows. Each came up to about Troy¡¯s chest, making it possible to overlook the entirety of the store area easily. Not the most aesthetic design choice, yet the AI could guess the utility of it. Everybody could be seen. Nothing could hide without crawling. And¡­ it also provided ample sight into what each row had to offer in supplies. As one came closer to the back of the store, where the cashiers would be, the quality of supplies became higher. Adam could not understand this one but chose to ignore it. ¡®Go to the back immediately,¡¯ Adam sent, spurring on the man. Troy would have likely reached the same conclusion if given a few more seconds of thinking time. Yet, from earlier occurrences, it was clear that less time needed to be used. There was no need for a repeat of last time, after all. Having thought it out a near-countless time already, Adam fully understood how lucky they had been to escape. It was only through improper handling of the situation, that the police officer had left them enough time to escape. Troy had begun the standard head-turning, giving the AI brief snapshots of what was where. It was a quick way to catalogue the location of every product in the store, with only the mild side-effect of causing a stiff neck for the man. As luck would have it, it also only required a slight focus from the AI, allowing him to continue his own indulgences. Another fact which had allowed them to escape was more¡­ unforeseeable. From what had been explained later on, they had been hit with the standard dosage of sedatives. It was enough to stop people from using specific limbs, with a diminishing effect the further from the impact-point one got. Without the antidote applied, the effect was supposed to last for upwards of five hours. For Troy? It did not come close to reaching five minutes. From a gasped explanation, the man apparently thought the sedatives were weak. Adam knew that they were exactly the strength they had been supposed to be. Somehow, Troy had a resistance to it. The AI had yet to ask, but he presumed the man to have had contact with the medicine before. Or maybe something akin to it. Troy had already shown that he was susceptible to a few other medicines, discarding the theory of his body just having natural immunity. When would Adam ask about it? When the time was right. Two rows were left. Eleven had passed. By that point, none had shown real promise. Yes, there were perhaps a few objects or whatnot which would be taken if time allowed it, but nothing of the true target had been found. That was not good. If they didn''t- ¡®Go back and to the left instead!¡¯ Adam positively shouted. Feeling it necessary to hasten the process, the AI put emotional tonings into his voice, this time using the distressing emotion. There had also been some anxiousness mixed in, causing just the perfect reaction. There it was! The object they had searched for, for so long. The first clue had been a poster on the side showing it off. If that was only that, Adam would have had a much more muted reaction. No¡­ it was what sat beside it that made the AI reach so anxiously. And Troy had seen it as well. When the man¡¯s eyes honed in on it, he positively sprinted towards it. On the row, just beside the image of the sought object, were the objects themselves! Or, well, the two couldn''t actually see them. They could see the boxes that contained them. Adam was sure that it was them. They had found countless of them empty. So many looters had come before them, and this time¡­ this time there was a whole bunch left. The floor was a bit slippery, letting the young man slide to the end, stopping at the precise place he needed to stop. Adam had expected Troy to look happy, yet the man was much closer to stress. "Which do I take?" Troy asked. His voice was fast. The man¡¯s pulse was accelerating. Excitement? Closer to dread. "Oh, god, I don''t know what to do." Using a deity¡¯s name. Must have been stressed indeed. The young man had the habit of correcting anybody close when they used that name while stressed, for whatever reason. It was slightly ironic that he was making the same mistake, but Adam felt no need to state that currently. ¡®Take the closest one, and then calm down a little,¡¯ Adam instructed, not wanting to deal with the man having another panic attack. Those were extreme annoyances since the young man had the habit of becoming a sulking mess. Not the greatest state to be in, when the time was of the matter. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. A deep breath was had before the hyper-ventilating continued. Adam was just happy one good one came out, as the man took one at seemingly random. Actually¡­ The AI kinda wanted the man to put it back and take another. The box was slightly pushed in on one of the corners. It was not too serious, yet it was still not in full mint condition. ¡­ No, it would only make the stress accumulate faster. Looking at the time, they had been in the store for one minute and thirty-six seconds. The AI would prefer they got out as soon as possible, yet¡­ ¡®Stop in the next row and get some of the neuroleptic pills. With that, we have everything,¡¯ Adam sent. The young moved to obey. There looked to be a quick mental debate about going the long way around, before Troy seemingly decided to just go over the rows. With them being so low, it was not too hard to vault over them. That could have been dangerous. While more serious stunts had been performed, the risk of a sprained ankle was a serious thing. Adding that together with the fact that Troy was carrying a relatively heavy box, and it did not begin looking good. Nevertheless, the journey was not too far. Troy took out the small bag he had on his back. It was not close to big enough for the box, yet Adam saw no problems with that. It was big enough for the smaller objects, so there were no larger dangers to have. A good twenty seconds were spent piling in a massive amount of pills. A good fifty packs of them. Adam would have loved to say it would last them a long time, yet examples had shown that Dr Hale could get through ten in a day. Enhancements were the worst sometimes since their upkeep requirements triple-folded when damaged. Enhanced regeneration, that just redid the damage continuously, making it all a loop of wasted energy expenses. And, from what had been heard, it was also extremely painful. Constant medication was the only real solution, and the dose needed to keep growing larger. Resistances were negative sometimes. Troy put the final pack in reach into the bag and zipped it up as quickly as possible. Putting it on his back again, the man looked ready to run. And, that was exactly what Adam had planned to order. Well, until the sight of a police car came into a stop just in front of the entrance. The door was open a bit, allowing the two of them to see the car door on one side opening. A few quick words were exchanged. It took a few moments. In those moments, Adam took action. Recollecting the map of the building, the AI scourged everything he could about its exits. There was one on the top of the building, two fire exits on either side and then there was the front door. The top one would require them to go up a floor, and the two on the sides would require that they got through a series of rooms that would leave them utterly exposed. ¡­ They had to go through the front. There was no chance of that now. If the officers followed the logic from before, they would be entering the building within the next twenty seconds. Troy would be seen the moment they did that. ¡®Get down on your stomach, and don''t make a sound,¡¯ Adam immediately ordered, after having thought it over. There was an exit to the storage in the back. If the officers didn''t find them in the front, then they would likely enter the backroom, allowing Troy to run by undetected. Remaining undetected was the hard part. Troy was clearly still having it hard getting his breathing under control. The flashy manoeuvre and reality of the situation were apparently not doing well on him. Stress should have been eliminated. Would calming words be effective? Adam doubted they would be heard, as the door being slammed open reached the young man¡¯s ears, the contact gave a thump which sounded like the more powerful version of a boot hitting the ground. The AI was unsure if that was proper procedure, but was more focused on the amount of sound being put out. "And stay right there!" an older man''s voice shouted. Subtlety was clearly not in the current list of priorities, as that stomping did not stop. "You¡¯ll be scrap the moment you open that mouth of yours!" Clearly not having the best of days. Adam felt no sympathy, instead of seeing it as the perfect opportunity. From the loud steps, the AI was accurately able to identify where the man currently was. He was walking down the middle, going through the cut in the middle. Troy was lying on the outskirts on the second to last row. It would take¡­ seven seconds for their row to be reached. If he looked over at that moment, Troy would be spotted. Not good. What could be done? Adam spent a whole second just thinking about that. Camouflage? No. Closer to the floor? No. Just running for it? No. Going around the- Yes! ¡®When I give the signal, crawl over to the next row,¡¯ Adam ordered. Troy hardly had time to nod before going into position. Five seconds remained. The man could move fast. And the older police officer was likewise moving at a high speed. That only increased their chances of success, luckily. Four seconds remained. Three seconds. Two seconds. One- Adam gave the signal, and Troy moved quickly. The only thing the man¡¯s eyes got to see was somebody''s larger boots. Their lower position stopped any other details from going through. The steps continued without a pause. Though¡­ they did briefly stop, as the man yanked, what the AI guessed to be, the door into the back-room. The steps stopped being heard. This was good. ¡®Get up and run for it. Don''t look anywhere but forward.¡¯ Troy did as asked, slowly getting up without turning his eyes. His eyes were directly on the display glass in the front. They stood with their prized belongings. To the side was the front door. That was the goal. The man did his best to get forward. Adam could tell. The first steps were slow, but they picked up speed quickly enough. He could tell that- "Found you." Adam hardly got to register the sensation of Troy¡¯s bag being pulled on, before the man himself was flung towards the glass. It was fast. Too fast. A direct impact would seriously maim or kill. But¡­ nothing would stop the trajectory. Troy would hit within a second. The man had put his arms in front of his body in an attempt to shield it. Good reflexes, yet Adam doubted it would- His hands! The gloves! They were the first to hit the glass. In that split second, Adam speeded himself up a hundredfold. From the first millisecond, he could already feel the unit heating up. He did not care. The contact with the glass allowed the AI to brute-force a connection. It was flimsy, but it worked. And that''s all he needed it to do. In case of an emergency, the building had more than a few safety precautions. The doors would open automatically, the vents forced to circulate at higher speeds, and the glass¡­ the glass could be ordered to shatter. That command was sent in. Before the glass was able to fully resist the moment on Troy¡¯s hand, the glass shattered into a million pieces. Even sped up, the AI wasn''t able to see anything but the end result. He did not care. Troy was thrown out on the road. It was clear that he had been bruised. It was clear that he had a larger scrape on his side. Yet nothing was broken. He had survived. That result was satisfactory. Chapter 292: Falling
God, it hurt! Troy could feel blood leak out of his side. The skin had been torn off by friction. Oh, it hurt so bad. Putting his hand on the wound, he brought it up to his face. Red liquid met his eyes. This was not good. Was he getting dizzy? There was a desire to vomit his insides out. ¡®Get up!¡¯ Adam shouted at him. The loud voice made Troy do what could only be called a spastic twist, his legs stretching out on pure instinct. It propelled him up enough to let him stand, yet the movement brought with it more than a little pain. His wound was being stretched, and it did not feel good. The skin was continuing to tear, each second air travelled to his lungs. How he wished to hold his breath, if not for the immense pressure already felt. He could hardly keep his mouth closed. Troy understood he had to keep standing, yet his legs were already swaying in the non-existent wind. He had trouble with balance, his mind too preoccupied with the pain. What he needed was something to block it out, yet he knew there was nothing he could really use for that. "Quite the sturdy one," the old officer said. Troy looked over to see him going through the front door. Was the window too fine for the likes of him? Heh. Even in a state of pain, the young man could not help but critique that self-liking expression. If only he could slap it. That expression was almost begging for it. "Any enhancements in that body of yours?" "Nothing but pure will, I''m afraid," Troy answered, delaying the contact by as much as he could. He was weak. If he tried to run, he would fail no matter what. He just had to keep talking. "You better be," the officer said with a smile. There were gaps where teeth should have been. Disgusting. Something to comment on if needed. "That face of yours¡­ might you be the prey that we have been looking for for so long?" His face¡­ there should have been no places where his face could be. Troy had looked. There had been no official messages about their escape. Everything had been kept under the wraps. "What are you talking about?" the young man questioned, taking a few stumbling steps backwards. Though, they had been purely intentional, allowing him to create a few more meters of balance. If he tried to run, the officer would go in for the catch. If it seemed like the man was in control, Troy would be able to get a few more meters in distance. "That pure screen of white. I didn''t believe it when Cass talked about it, yet I really can''t see anything. It''s giving me a headache. Only one way to fix that," the man said. He put one of his hands onto his left side, before stretching it out and- ¡®Duck!¡¯ Adam shouted. Troy¡¯s body moved before he even registered it. What he did register, however, was the woosh of a small needle flying by his cheek. It had been aimed towards his heart. ¡®Run!¡¯ No need to be told twice. One glance told him that the man was packing away the weirdly shaped gun. It would take a second. A whole second left to get a good distance. Troy took that opportunity, going directly towards the tree-line. One good thing about the dense forest was how it incapacitated any enhanced people. Sure, they could get up to incredible speeds, but even they had to accelerate little by little. No chance to do that when there was a tree in the way every third second. That wasn''t to mean that Troy was any faster. He still had to swerve every few seconds. Only¡­ he always got close to his top speed. There wasn''t much of a hindrance for him. In terms of overall speed, it allowed him to almost equal most users in that regard. Then again, the ¡®most users¡¯ part did need to be stressed. Troy had heard horror stories about people focused entirely on their dexterity, able to perform moves normally reserved for badly-made action movies. And sometimes¡­ sometimes reality was so much worse. ¡®He is ignoring the trees,¡¯ Adam informed Troy dutifully. The AI¡¯s tone had returned to its regular dull voice. Life had been lost yet again. The young man could not find it within himself to currently give a flying damn about it. "No shit, sherlock!" Troy shouted, doing his best to make his legs beat faster. Every step was done with the utmost pressure by his thighs. There was not a moment where they did not burn intensely, yet he likewise did not dare falter. His eyes were on the ground, constantly making sure he did not fall. He just needed to get away. He just needed to get away from the police officer who was making it very clear that he could ignore trees. Not meant in the way that he was able to avoid them. No¡­ it was very clear what was meant. "Stop right there, young man! I have to arrest you!" the officer shouted, as what sounded like yet another young tree was ripped out of the way. How was he even doing that while keeping pace? More importantly, why was he sounding like he was getting closer? It was not comforting! A stump was jumped over. Only two seconds later, Troy could hear it cracking from the pressure of a boot stamping on it. Oh god, this was not good at all. How much power did the man have? He had thrown him through a window with ease. Just what would be done if he was caught? Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. The fear of the unknown made him increase his speed. Troy needed to get away. The officer was catching up. He just knew it. Even if he did not dare look back, those rhythmic beats of feet hitting the ground were more than enough to guess. It only furthered the adrenaline being pumped into his blood. The pressure was at an all-time high, and the terrain just had to change. The starting distance was still holding up, but it was put to the test when the ground began to grow. Slowly but surely, Troy started going up a hill. His legs burned evermore. Yet, he could hear that the one behind him had a similar problem. A weakness! An opportunity. While the officer was clearly strong, endurance was something that was lacking. That could be used. Troy would use it. He had more fortitude than most could ever dream of. It had been a requirement to even get as far as he had come. He had forced himself through thin rock-formations, braved endless stair-cases, and had withstood the force of being pushed harder than anybody had the audacity to survive. Troy could do this. The hill just continued. The trees obscured the size of it. Yet¡­ it could not continue for long now. They had run so far. Troy¡¯s breathing was forced to be full, and the officer was clearly gasping for air. However, either of them had not yet given up. The young man understood that he would be caught the moment he stopped. And, that was just about the time he hit the top. There were no trees up there, making it possible to see far into the distance. Then again¡­ the reason for the lack of trees was what worried Troy so much. The hill ended up as a cliff. Literally. Troy could not tell the distance down, yet he knew that it had to be over thirty meters. It was frightening to stare down. The man ran as far as he could beside it, yet it ended up as a dead end. Not good. Behind him, the officer was smiling. "Nowhere to go now, boy," the officer said, cheeky smiling at him. He was clearly enjoying the moment, while also getting his pulse back under control. Troy used the time for the same, glancing at just what was around him. Beneath but of them, a stream ran. A river, one could say. The same that Troy used every day to get water. Since they had run away from the sun¡­ the force would lead over to where they lived. Yet, the distance was so far. "If I jumped," Troy began carefully, making sure his eyes met the officers. "Will I survive?" That caused quite a reaction. The posture changed, the man becoming on guard. Was it such a threat? Troy only proposed the idea of throwing himself off a cliff. "Do not try it, son. Nothing good will happen from that," the officer answered. The clouds parted for a few moments, letting the sunshine down on them. It got in his eyes a small bit. Troy ignored it though, just like he ignored what the man had said. Somebody else¡¯s opinion was weighed higher. ¡®With the clothes able to dampen the pressure, combined with the distance, you will have a greater chance of drowning. Can you hold your breath for over a minute?¡¯ Adam sent an answer. Troy was elated by that. He might just have it in him after all. Still¡­ It was a fair height. It would almost make him dizzy yet again. Maybe a few careful steps backwards? If he could not see when the edge would be there, it would be a surprise for him. It would certainly calm him a bit. Though¡­ after the first three had been done, that officer did not look happy. "Don''t you even dare think-" the officer began, but Troy never heard the finished parts. The older man had begun moving towards him, startling the younger man into taking a few more rapid steps back. It was around the fourth or fifth that Troy realised the lack of stone beneath him. As gravity began to take its toll, the only thing the man could do was to brace for impact. He straightened out his body, as the wheezing of air reached his ears. It took less than five seconds before he felt-
Jared stared down at the river. He had never thought the thief would jump. For a full minute, he had observed the water, waiting for the young man to resurface for air. ¡­ That moment never came. No matter how long somebody could hold their breath, the stress of the situation would have forced the water into the lungs by that point. The only way he would find the criminal now would be by the help of scuba gear. How deep was that river anyway? Jared had always been warned about going into it when he was younger, but that was more due to the fish inside it. Those things could bite when they wanted to. The man had to sigh, as he began walking back to the car. His legs felt weak. It was not every day that he was made to run for so long. Was he getting older?... Nah, it was just him not training enough. Those fancy cardio routines had never been his favourite dish, but Cass apparently found them helpful. Maybe he should ask her for advice? An idea perhaps. Though, the details would have to be noted down. In that department, he was in luck! The badge gave access to so many gadgets, an internal notepad being a part of them. Sure, some nostalgia from using the physical ones impacted the decision, yet even Jared could not help but sigh relief. No tired fingers from that anymore. It was during that time spent noting down ideas that he got back to the shop. The window was¡­ still broken. Jared was still surprised it had broken in the first place. According to the building info, it had been supposed to have been able to handle multiple hits by a sledgehammer. Had his throws gotten more powerful as of late? That was a nice thought. But, there was a better chance of shoddy notations. Those cheap skates had likely written down a higher quality of glass in an attempt to get cheaper insurance. Wasnt the first time he had seen it. Though¡­ what was that? On the ground, a few meters away from the broken glass, was a box of some kind. It was not too wide or tall, most of its size coming from the length. Picking it up, Jared took a glance at the code on the side. According to the systems, it was one of the products found inside the store. Had it gotten out accidentally? Jared could not specifically remember doing anything of note that would have made that happen. However¡­ had not the thief been carrying something? Jared could remember there being a bag, but something had definitely been in the criminal¡¯s hand as well. Could this be it? If so, then it was evidence. And evidence had to be brought to the station, even if the aforementioned runaway had drowned. Maybe the other two would be happy about it. Even if one of them had been taken care of, there was at least one more to capture. It had become clear that that earpiece the criminal had worn really was a transmitter of some kind. That was a nice thought. Jared kept thinking about it as he got back to the car. Inside sat the automation, however, instantly able to reverse any happiness that had been generated. "Why did you not run after him?" Jared angrily questioned. "You could have catched him!" "You ordered me to stay inside the car," the automation answered. It had told him it had a name, but Jared couldn''t give a single fuck about that. It was an automation, and nothing more than that. "I was only doing what was-" "Who gives a half-ass about what I ordered. You could have gotten him. So? Why didn''t you get him?" "The last time I did that, you shouted at me for disobeying-" "Shut up!" How he hated those. If not for those rules, he would have made it sit in the back. That thing would never replace those he had worked with. It was nothing compared to them. After writing up a damage report, Jared began the ride home to the station. Now¡­ How was he going to break the news about the death? It wasn''t every day somebody chose death over being captured. Chapter 293: Fool
The skill of deduction was likely one of the most useful tools that any entity could ever have at hand. To be able to see the truth of the situation, and to figure out what every being involved wanted. To figure out the desires, the needs, and the actions of another before they started on the first step. A battle had begun from the moment the first thought had passed the mind, even if nobody ever realised it. Cassandra always noticed. There had never been a moment where she did not scheme for the future. Every action on her part was done with the full intention of being for the future. What was a step if not for progress? Therefore¡­ deduction would be most useful. There had already been an idea about her having it. The deduction was not something that was inborn in people. Yes, some minds were able to be more predisposed to it, yet there was training to be had no matter how gifted one was. Was Cassandra gifted? She certainly liked to think she was. Recent times have put that idea to the test. What was her pitiful planning for the grand game that was played by those in the chairs above? Cassandra had no clue how far the board was, had no idea who knew of the board at all, and if she was a player in it or just another pawn to be moved around. It was all so confusing. Information was key to success. Knowing was half the battle, and the woman had spared no expense to that. Every moment she could spare was used on retroactive deliberation. If she could look through any weakness, any hint of what was truly going on, she would be able to succeed. If there was any part of it all that had a pattern, Cassandra could exploit it, just as she had done hundreds of times before. Because that was the greatest thing about defences. No matter how grand they were, no matter how impenetrable it all seemed, there were always cracks in the foundations. No system was perfect, and Cassandra always found just what was wrong. She would widen the cracks into holes, and she would blow it all up. She would revel in the destruction while walking elegantly upon the ruins. She would win it all. She would¡­ Be in checkmate yet again. Or, was that checkmate? Looking over the remaining pieces, her mind quickly shuffled all the possible combinations down. There were not many moves to count, after all, with only a depth of two at the best. While she was not in checkmate yet, it would be one step to the right, of which that step was the only one which could be done, and there her king would meet his doom. So she spoke, and so it would be. That is if she even wanted to wait for death. Instead, Cassandra just let the king fall down, the standard move used for giving up. In that way, she could take it as something other than a total loss. Jules did not sound happy from it, though. "Just let the game run to the finish for once!" the automation complained. The tone used was whining, reminding the woman of a small child not getting its way. The idea did not work in the current reality, the so-called child much too big to be anything but annoying to look at. "This torture! It''s against way too many conventions, so stop doing it." Cassandra did her best not to scoff, as she began to put the pieces back in the right order. How many rounds had she survived this time? Seventeen? It was almost twenty at least. Less time had been spent counting that this time around, more focus used on trying to figure out the perfect moves. The automation should just have been happy about being indulged. Though, that might more have been due to her lack of ability to force it back over to the charging stations. No matter. It would lose power eventually. There had been an idea about chess. The woman would not have called herself the greatest, but neither would she call herself bad. Cassandra had been a part of a chess club during her younger years. In it, she had scored quite highly against the machines. High enough that she had been asked about pursuing it more seriously. That had been refused, of course, yet the offer had not been ignored. It had been a promise of her high skill. So¡­ why did she keep losing to the scrap-bucket? And why did she lose so badly? The first game was over in seven moves. Legal mate. It was a dirty trick that Cassandra had forgotten about during her chess-free years. Yet¡­ that had only been due to a lack of practice. That had been her personal excuse. After the first three losses, her stance had changed. "I am still unsure how you are cheating," Cassandra said, tracing the edges of her king. It was the last piece to be put back on the board. She would play black this time. That was a change in tides, she supposed. This time she might have an actual chance. "From your model, there should be no secondary transmitters." If there was one thing she would always reject, then it was the notion of Cassandra being a sore loser. Which she was not. There was never a moment she would go out on another due to her failure. Because she would never fail. Cassandra was perfect like that. Which made it all the harder to figure just why that seemed to be what was happening. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. She had already checked over any transmitted signals thrice now. There was a chance that she had failed to notice one, but Cassandra doubted that. Jules had to have external help somehow. It just had to come from somewhere other than the automation itself. She would have made it strip down, if not for the negative connotations attached with such a command. And, it would likely just reject the command anyway. The game finally started out again. Jules took the traditional move of moving a pawn over to e4. It had been the automations favourite. Yet, each attempt to use that made it all the harder to play. Nevertheless, Cassandra fired back with the standard pawn to d6. "Why do you think I cheat?" Jules questioned, getting the next move over instantly. The automation clearly needed no time to think. Yet, Cassandra did. Even if the board had not filled itself yet, there would soon be problems. She already knew that, as the bucket moved another pawn up, letting it land on d4. A sacrifice? No way to know yet. "Can''t you just accept that I''m naturally perfect at everything?" Since it was still her turn, Cassandra finally decided on a safer gambit, moving a knight over to f6. A small nudge that would force the next move. And¡­ she was correct, the iron slab moving its own knight over to c3. In the early game, it was easy to see what could do what. It only got harder from there, one piece already in a stress position. She could still win, however. She just had to keep up with the changes, while still holding her own pieces in the right places. "If there was anything natural about you, I could have passed it off as skill," Cassandra stated. Her words were harsh and cruel, yet she knew it would distract the thing for more than a moment. And moments did not count in a game of slow strategy. No clock ticked for their time. Her fingers were quick when she made her move, nevertheless. A pawn to g6 "Yet¡­ that aspect is lacking with you. No heart that beats, no lungs that fill you with oxygen. Can you ever truly call yourself skilled?" The automation fired back by putting the left bishop up to e3. That had been¡­ unexpected. Not what she had guessed would be done, at the very least. No matter. The move was not misleading, since it still fit into what could be called a good move. She just needed to be a tad more careful, lest she would lose before she even realised. With care, she took her own bishop over to g7. It was not fully out yet, but she knew it would be used soon enough. Offensive moves would likely be needed soon. "If I am not skilled, what do you call this?" Jules inquired. It smiled, the teeth showing the tiniest bit. That detail would have distracted Cassandra for a few seconds, if not for the hand that moved to envelop the automation¡¯s queen. It was on the move already¡­ only up to d4, however. A wise choice, when she had to think about it. In another move, she could have threatened it easily. Cassandra just moved up another pawn, response. This one was to c6. A possible way to threaten the king. "The act of logical processes calculating the best possible move against me personally. With the occasional faked blunder, of course," Cassandra said, added in the last bit as an after-thought. The current match had received no such fakery added, but she would not be surprised if such a thing happened soon enough. Jules just moved yet another pawn, this one going up to f3. Pawns were being used a lot in this game. Was it mirroring her? It was an annoying technique, but it was not the most unwise of strategies to make. It would force a blunder at some point. She would need to test it out. Moving up her pawn to b5, a critical scenario was begun. The knight could be killed soon. Or, Jules could kill the pawn immediately, letting it die soon after. No matter what, it would end up in the first blood. As a surprise, Cassandra had to stop herself from grinding her teeth at the sight. The automation had taken the unseen knight out from hiding, putting it in the perfect spot for an attack at the grounds of his fallen friend. That is¡­ if his friend was to ever fall. "You sacrifice a lot of things. Everything is just numbered in your head, isn''t it?" Cassandra said, leaning back in her chair. She needed to be good for this. Her mind was drifting a bit. A fast series of moves happened after that. Pawn to a5, bishop to h6, the first blood spurred on as an act of knowing death. Neither talked, the automation seemed to know that silence needed to be used. The queen avenged the fallen foe, another piece being taken off the board at h6. Cassandra moved her last bishop to b7 in response. "It''s not in my head," Jules informed her, as it moved a pawn to a3. That caused her to pause. "What do you mean?" "The plans are not in my head," Jules said. Was the automation coming to terms with the fact that it was a lousy cheater? "All processes actually happen in my chest. Better protection, you know." "... Right." That threw her off a small bit. More moves came forward. Pawn to e5, the king and tower embracing, the queen moving out of her hiding hole, and the king beginning to run while the tower remained valiantly. It took no genius to know its fate. She just continued, putting her pawn to a5. The deduction was always important. And with her latest turn, the woman did her best to perceive what would happen. What would move where? How could she circumvent it? ¡­ As her eyes glided on the board, it became more obvious. Each side had taken a bishop, yet the path that would follow would only bring ruin to her. A good start, yes, but it would only go downhill afterwards. That queen on the other side was more resilient than she let on. Could Cassandra beat her? The answer was unclear. Much would be wasted, to the point, she would be ruined long before that. The future had spoken, and she would obey. Against impossible odds, against a sight where every ending was plagued with her ruin, what would dear Cassandra do? Somebody would choose to bear through it, to do their best no matter what. Some would be angry. Cassandra put down her king again, with no remorse in the action. She had done it before, and she knew she would do it again. "It would have been so pretty," Jules whined. "Can you just promise that we play one round where you don''t do that? I¡¯ll even play with my left hand!" "You¡¯re ambidextrous." "And? It''s the thought that counts." Cassandra just stared at the piece of scrap. "Come on¡­ think of it as repayment for saving your life! It''s just one game!" The woman had been under the presumption she had already paid that particular debt off, yet the automation was clearly intending to milk it for all it was worth. How¡­ human of it. Then again¡­ how human did one need to be before they were a fool? Cassandra certainly fell under that category, as she put up the pieces yet again. Chapter 294: Bitterness
There hadn''t really been any expectation about spending such a long time playing chess with Jules. In fact, there had not been any expectation about playing a game at all. Cassandra had dreamt about just going over to her bed, and trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep. That had not been the plan the automation had in mind, apparently. Five minutes after the woman had said her goodbyes with Jared, the bucket-scrap had come skipping along. It had mastered her, refusing to go out into the charging stations. Jules had wanted to spend some ¡®quality time with the best partner in the world.¡¯ Cassandra had not been happy about her being the recipient of that title. Nonetheless, she had eventually caved in. With no way to make the automation go away, the chessboard had been brought out, and games had been played. How many had they gone through? A good hour had passed, at the very minimum. Closer to seventy minutes actually¡­ "Shouldn''t your power be running out soon?" Cassandra asked Jules, the automation trying to stack a set of cards into a pyramid. The third layer was going well. Another thing that the automations had over human would have been their lack of shaking hands. A great skill to have with delicate work. But, every movement had some kind of cost. The happy-goes liked to call it a mental one, yet there was much more than that. Every living being consumed nutrition in some way or another. Cassandra, as the go-to example, ate various pieces of organic matter, converting it to a workable energy inside herself. This was not the same for automations. Like most other human-made constructs, they ran on electrical energy. Or, well, there were always another few ideas about what power-cells they had inside them. The government was keeping it hidden, for good reasons. Nevertheless, these creations needed power, just like any other construct. The movement was not free. One would think that the power sources inside them could hold them up for days at a time. That a small nuclear reactor sat inside each of them, ready to make them walk for millennia to come. While Cassandra did not doubt that some automations had just that equipment, the population had been assured that was not the case for the police force¡¯s constructs. Rather, they all held a battery inside them, instead of any generators able to cause unintentional damage to their surroundings in the event of damage. "Don''t compare me to the lower bunch, thank you very much," Jules said, making a sniff at the apparent undignified question towards it. Cassandra sensed a minor superiority complex going on. How utterly unsurprising. "I have upgraded my power capacity. I can run along for a week before I even need to think about anything akin to going to a power station." "Is that time estimate based on standing still or on active duty?" Cassandra inquired, knowing exactly who people wanted to brag. And while the automation might not have been one, it was clear where it got its inspiration from. The lousy people of the world, who had the need to use every second proving just how big their productive organs were. It was a sad thing, but she had worked with too many of that type to count. It fit a good percentage of the population. Why was this? Unloving parents? Maybe an under-praised school life? Or was there some problem with the subject they liked to focus so much on? Cassandra personally just thought that it was an organic personality trait. It would come forth no matter what. It was all about luck. Given the circumstances, nobody could really be judged too harshly for their felt superiority, when no one had commented on it before. "... Shut up," Jules finally said. Even the greatest chess players had it hard when confronted with irrefutable facts. If anything else had said, like the automation defending its proudful statement, Cassandra had been more than ready to fact check it. Calling people out on their self-loving nature was a rare joy for her. It was not every day that she could talk in such a way, after all. No, the loving Cass would never say something like that! ¡­ What was this supposed to be? The two had situated themselves in the common room, had played a freaking board game for an hour of her free time, and nothing else of importance had been done. Cassandra had not yet done her stretches of the day, hadn''t even gotten started on any of the after-duty reports, and no thoughts had been around the subject of making plans. Was that good? Or was that a terrible thing? Planning had been a part of her every thought, yet the current time had been devoid of that. It felt¡­ a little relaxing. There was none of the usual stress, not a lick of worrying about if her current actions were good for the future. She was just¡­ relaxing on a comfy sofa, pointing out the flaws in a construct¡¯s wordings. The reports were supposed to be written. They had not been started on. Normally, they would have been done thirty minutes ago. That had to be bad. By her standards, it was a crime in itself. She had sinned by the highest order. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Yet¡­ she could not find the least bit of her mind caring. Her thoughts were on finding a comfortable position to put her body in, just so she could move as little as possible, while still having a good view of the pyramid building. Just what did Cassandra think she was doing? She was relaxing. She was taking her time with things, not putting any stress on herself. Jules had forced her on the regimen, yes, but Cassandra would have been surprised if she could step away in the current moment. A short time free of responsibilities was so freeing. There were so many tasks to complete, so many scenarios to plan for. There was always something that could be done, some subject that could be researched. Each second spent on the couch was a second that could have been used for something better. Had she ever sat on the couch before? Cassandra had sat on the chair beside it during her introduction to the building, yet there had never been a time where she had even put her hand on the furniture''s side. She had never felt the fake leather, how her fingers felt a little numb when she ran her finger along with it. It was such a small detail, not able to be used at any point, yet it fascinated her to no end. Cassandra felt like she could spend a year on the couch just staring at the texture, never ever feeling bored of it all. The colouring was overall black, yet there were so many nuances hidden. The scheme was never constant, the artificial variance normally invisible to the eye. Yet, when she put her head really close to the side, the truth came out to her. It was beautiful. It was something she had never seen before. It was¡­ relaxing. Then Jules failed to build the fifth layer of the pyramid, the table shaking the smallest bit too much during a readjustment. The automation had scratched its foot to one of the table legs while getting a bit higher up with the back. That had been a big mistake, every step of progress falling at once. The construct was silent, the automation not moving any part of itself. Did Jules think that not moving would stop the past from being fact? How¡­ abstract a thought. Cassandra had to lie in wonder about it, the sight distracting her from the mysteries of the furniture she laid on. Humans would have to move after a few seconds, their brains catching up with the large mistake they had made. Automations¡­ did not seem to have such a problem. Jules was certainly able to sit still in the chair, not even their eyes around. It just looked forward like a statue. If not for the light swaying of the blouse, Cassandra might have thought it a modern art piece. ¡®The expression of failure.¡¯ That thought almost made her crack a smile. The pain of others always did have that effect on her. However, there was a point where even the most entertaining of thoughts could not match the desired pay-off. The construct was seemingly fine with no reactions. Cassandra''s mind was hotwired into thinking the reaction would come in just the second after the current one, yet every expectation was blown off. At some time, she just needed progress in life. "That could have gone more smoothly. Would one of your brethren perhaps have performed better?" Cassandra asked with the innocence she had trained for so long to show off. People always underestimated her when they thought her a new and fresh hire, never realising she was exploiting them for all she could get. It also worked in other situations, of course, but that had been the main purpose of it for a long time. The effects were instant. The automation let its arms fall to its side, its head likewise falling over and beginning to look down at its feet under the table. Was that sadness on Jules¡¯ face? No¡­ it looked more like mental anguish. The automation really did act like a child. Would a tantrum be thrown over its own failure? Cassandra did hope for that, in a weird way. She always liked it when the bottle was shaken too much, and the surroundings had to bear the effects. Again, she was left with no finish. Instead of throwing the table, or doing anything that would show off anger, the construct instead leaned back in its chair, making a long and extended sigh. It looked a little sullen. That was another reaction to it, Cassandra supposed. ¡­ And a boring reaction at that. There was nothing enjoyable about it. It was just the showing of somebody in pain, even if that somebody would never be able to feel it. "How did it go with Jared, by the way?" Cassandra asked, deciding that moving away from the subject would be better. She needed new entertainment, the mood for couch-staring impossible to replicate for a while more. "Were there any problems with him?" That older man was a tough nut to crack. Cassandra knew he was a sweet man, even if he was one step too far in the past. And there was the hygiene problem¡­ but, still, a confused man in a world too modern for him. And a part of that annoying modernism was the introduction of the automations. It had been during her first days at the station that Cassandra had learned of that hate. According to Jared, he had been chewed out by the boss for shouting a bit too loudly at the automation while out in the public. It had been during the time where everybody wanted away, making the instance filmed from all sides. It had been a PR disaster, yet it had changed the man¡¯s ideas about the constructs in the slightest. Even if he had been made to be quiet about it out in the open, Jared still openly showed his disgust for the automations. Cassandra frequently debated if that disgust was due to what they were or what they weren''t. For the last couple of weeks, she had guessed it to be the latter. Some just could not move on, even if they so desperately needed to do so. Cassandra knew it was different for those in pain, yet they never seemed to realise the emotion they let out to those around them. That negativity¡­ was enough to choke some. She was resistant, but others with too much empathy had the potential of being crippled by it. "It was not that fun talking to him," Jules said, twiddling with the cards on the table. There was no second attempt to build the pyramid. At least that annoying sulking had disappeared. "Thought that it was a good idea to order me to shut up and all. I swear Otto is way too compliant about that stuff." "Otto?" Cassandra said, mildly confused. "Is that the name of the automation Jared is with?" "Oh, no, it doesn''t have a name. Jared refused to give it a name," Jules answered, waving away any confusion. Yet, that answer only brought more of it. Then again¡­ Cassandra was supposed to be relaxing, so she just let it go. "I just like calling it that." "Good to know. But, were there no other problems?" Cassandra supposed it could have gone semi-well. There was always the possibility. "Nothing too serious. Though¡­ I think I made him angry at the end." "In what way?" "I suggested that he should start on testosterone supplements since his impotence was clearly causing anger issues," Jules said straight-faced. The construct even had the gall to begin checking its non-existent nails. ¡­ Why had Cassandra expected anything else? Suddenly, that couch seemed so much more comfortable to deal with. At least it upheld workplace protocol. Only the thought of somebody having it worse than her allowed the woman to keep herself together. Chapter 295: Thrown
Water was one of Adam¡¯s favourite compounds. It was not overly complex, being made of less than three parts. Or, well, three main parts. The actual bindings were much more than they seemed, and just trying to go into detail about them would be a fool''s adventure. It was near-infinitely complex, and even if the AI attempted to delve into the formulas, there was no thought that he would succeed in the slightest¡­ Alas, even the structures of the structures were too interesting. A part of a part of a part, going into the spectrum of endless depth. There was so much to the inner mechanics that would likely never be explained. Humanity had only begun to grasp the through distances that they needed to cross, and, for now, there was no way to overcome them. Perhaps there would be some discovery in a hundred years, but the AI knew it would not be found soon. So one had to look at the big picture. Well¡­ what big picture was there when looking at a single molecule. Already, the tightness was more than a human eye could perceive. It could only look at water on a macro-scale, where thousands of billions of molecules were gathered together in whatever tightness the temperature allowed. What properties did the molecule have? There were a few simple ones that every chemist knew by heart, or, so the data-packs had said. It''s a polar molecule, with the positive charges on the ends of the hydrogens, it''s an excellent solvent, used throughout the world by thousands daily, and the capacity for heat was likely one of the largest regulators for the earth, the energy required for drastic change too high for the sun to muster. Water was love. Water was life. One could also say that it was the primary reason for living. From the first living beings on the earth, water had been all around. The seas had been the feeding ground for so long. Without it, there would have been no progress, no evolution, no chance of humans ever taking their first steps. Adam had to thank water for everything. And the water was not limited to the seas. It was in the sky, in the air, and even in the beings that trekked their way on the earth. Humans were almost entirely water, that beautiful liquid in every part of their bodies. Everything was water, no matter where one looked. Life used water for almost everything. In some parts of most processes, water was put in for good luck. To make air, the trees needed the sweet golden compound. Humans needed to drink it to walk, the bodies craving it. Fish needed to breathe. What could ever be done without water? The answer was almost nothing. Extremely so, when it came to biological beings. Technically, there were other compounds that could be used to facilitate life, but that included processing glass. The theory was weird in that way. No matter. Water was important. If there was no water, a human would die. Their lungs would dry out, their body would thirst, and it would all crumble quickly. Nothing could be done without that miracle molecule, and everybody needed to know it. Then again¡­ was there such a thing as too much water? Was there any point where a good thing was shown off in excess? Adam liked to relate it to a sweet dish, one that Troy had talked about much during their travels. A cold dessert by the name of Gelato. It was apparently quite the delicacy, the young man only having tried it a few times in his life. Yet, never again did the man want to try it. Why was that so? Adam had pondered for more than a couple of days since the man had been adamant on not explaining it. He caved, however, since the AI had once again shown mental fortitude through asking several times every hour. For what had been told, Troy¡¯s dislike had festered itself into his own psyche through extreme exposure to the desert. Such a delicacy was usually prepared in a cone or a small cup of sorts, as it was a very high-calorie dish while also being very filling. So, what were the consequences of ignoring this standard preparation? What happened when consumed in such high amounts? Well, the answer was the same with nearly all other things that the body could consume. When the amount reached high enough, the body would be unable to process it. The body would be forced to reject it. No amount of willpower could force the limit. It could be pushed for a time, yes, but the balance would always be restored, one way or another. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. And it was the same with water. A human could breathe the air, yes, and there was already plenty of water in that. But¡­ what happened when the water percentage was put up. What happened when there was only water? The body would, of course, begin to go into rather extreme panic. While the water was good and all, there were plenty of other things which the body also needed. A sudden switch to a single compound was in no way realistic. Adam knew that as fact. This result was not derived from his experience with the theory. No, it was his experience of observing the natural world. In other words, he had front seats to the near-drowning of Troy. As they would have had it, the river was quite strong. From the moment the man had entered the waters, the surface causing no small amount of air to escape his lungs, they had already been sent through with a hard pull. It was fortune that allowed them to be relatively close to the surface. Else, the man¡¯s ears might have burst. The pressure had already been high from the start. Adam would not have blamed him if Troy had attempted to gasp. Not that such a thing would have been a good idea. Already, their chances had looked bad, the initial expulsion of air likely to bring them ruin. One needed everything that could be stored, and there was no chance that they would be resurfacing soon. Troy had likely understood that, the man allowing himself to be pushed along. Good for him. The body had acclimated to the lack of movement, the pulse slowing to a drawl. Others would have feared the man''s death. The AI knew better, as he could see perfectly well. It was only if it turned black that there would be any serious dangers. There were a few vain attempts to direct himself. A few times, they had gotten close to the edges of the rives, the sharper rocks not looking too peaceful to be ground against. Those attempts had ended in failure, as was due for the course, yet most of it had luckily hit the man¡¯s protected arms. Still¡­ checking up on it when they were back would not be too unwise. How long had passed when the current pushed them over the water, towards a more silent part of the river? Adam had estimated it to be one minute and fifty-three seconds. To Troy? It had likely felt like more. The man had begun to grow a bit¡­ sponge-like by the end. Oh¡­ there did the morning meal escape. It was not the most beautiful sight, certainly since both the newly escaped food and Troy himself was in the water. It floated along the body, while Troy stood on his knees, making deeper and deeper breaths. The body had clearly had too much water as of late. At least it hadn''t been saltwater. If such had entered the lungs, there would have been more serious problems to worry about. Instead, the man was lucky with his only symptoms being some severe coughing. ¡®You did well, holding your breath,¡¯ Adam commended the man. And it was the truth. They had not trained for such a scenario, the only estimate the AI had was the few times where the man had needed to be more silent than breathing would allow. And those¡­ had not been kind. In full honesty, the AI had expected their survival chances to be less than sixty. Yet, it seemed that cardio had once again saved the day. Troy did not answer, the man counting to empty his stomach. Nothing was really there anymore, yet the body had clearly not gotten the memo on that detail. Adam could not fault it. Water was a powerful tool, after all, able to cause all kinds of reactions. Now that the AI thought about it, perhaps it was a good idea to move soon. The water might not have been incredibly cold, yet it still stopped the clothing from having any resistance to the wind. With the temperature being as low as it was, there was a good need to seek warmth. It was lucky that they had ended up close to the spot they frequented daily when getting water. Or, was it really luck? The current had been observed to pull a variety of objects over to the position, making it likely that Troy would have had the same fate. It had all been planned, in one way or another. "How far is the house?" Troy asked, the man still having problems with the air. Though, that might have been more from the sudden cold hitting his back. The body had the weird quirk of beginning to hyper-ventilate the moment that it was unnecessary. What did it think would happen? Like the increased heat would really work, when the resources used were more than a little limited. ¡®Not too far. Just begin walking,¡¯ Adam instructed, not feeling like the man needed to worry too much about the details. From what could be seen, there were no extreme effects from their escape. Still¡­ there was no chance that Adam would take their recent adventure with any lack of severeness. Troy had been thrown to a secured glass window, had slid on the pavement where the glass had fallen, had been forced to run to the point of utter exhaustion, had gotten the extremely unwise idea of jumping thirty meters down into a freezing river, had then been forced to hold his breath for a good amount of time, had gotten to shore on his knees, losing his only food of the day in the process, and had then been made to walk a long distance while freezing. When put that way, Adam did wonder about the lack of wounds. Sure, there were a few scrapes, a part of the body which would be another colour for a few days, and a head that hurt in a way that needed some oversight by Charlie, but¡­ it was surprisingly well-done. Lethal actions had been taken against Troy several times, and he had gotten out in good health. Was it luck? Partly. No human would have gotten through it all without luck at their side. However, there was one component that needed to be thanked most of all. Water. Without it, there would have been no chance of him getting away. Although¡­ there also wouldn''t have been anything to get away from. ¡­ It was still great. No way to refute that. It would be what allowed them to seek warmth in their shelter. They just had to get there first. Chapter 296: Won
Troy felt cold. Likely because he was cold. The man was not too sure on that aspect. His skin had stopped giving him any responses, turning into a dull void of feeling. Maybe it could have been called hot? Foreign perhaps? It did not matter. He knew he was cold because his muscles were weak. Each step was harder than the last. It felt like he was walking through water up to his knees. Small movements were easy, but anything that moved his true mass was harder than it should have been. It would have been all too easy to just lie down in the gathering snow. But, that was not something he could do. The trek had barely started. If Troy looked back, he might even have been able to see some part of the river he had come from. He didn''t. Too much energy to use. It was too hard to move now. Wasting it on something as vain as looking around would be stupid of him. Still¡­ maybe it would have brought him something that would distract his muscles. If they forgot to resist for a few seconds, Troy could build up momentum. He could force his body into a run, make himself move faster than the wind, and get to their hiding place within the next few minutes. He would be able to feel the warmth again. Honestly, he would have been fine with feeling the cold as well. Troy just wanted to feel something, anything that would make him pull away. There was hardly any energy to do it. Energy¡­ he needed energy. His body was working hard to stop him from falling over, but even it needed to sustain itself somehow. The heat required a price, and there would soon be no currency to pay with. Troy had run on fumes for so long, and even those strips would go into the void soon enough. Yet, therein lied the problem. To move, he needed to get energy. To get energy, he needed to get food. To get food, he needed to move. It was all a circle of requirements that could never truly be filled. It was self-sustaining, as the only thing in the vicinity. If somebody had one part, they could get it all. If they had none, it would stay that way no matter what. How sad a truth, made by a young man not able to twist his own neck too much. His arms were in contact with his main body, doing their best to keep some part of his skin warm. They were wet, but so was everything on him as well, so it did not really matter. There was no chance of him becoming dry outside. He needed the security of a roof for such a thing. Another part of the problem circle, ready to be added anywhere that was pleasing. How long could people survive out in the cold? With the proper equipment, the answer would be in the count of days. With wet clothes on? Probably half an hour. The water was doing nothing to stop the freezing temperatures. In fact, it likely worsened it by more than Troy would ever desire. Were his legs shaking? Looking down, they did indeed seem to have such a quality to them. Troy could not personally feel it, nor could he see it when walking, but his limbs were beginning to convulse. The muscles were not appreciating the coldness inside and were rebelling in their own little special way. That way was traditionally called being extremely annoying. Oh¡­ there it was. The feeling of nearly losing balance. The left leg had gone cold a moment before the right, causing a slight delay in the balancing. Troy did not fall to the ground per se, but neither did he stay on the path. A tree was at his side, luckily, allowing him to stand upright and assess the situation. His vision was worsening with time, his limbs were heavy, and he was cold enough to not feel it. Everything pointed to him having a generally terrible day. But, no changes had occurred at the last minute. While he was in bad health, nothing had worsened. He could still continue, even if he felt terrible. There were no excuses. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡®Look down at the ground where you stand,¡¯ Adam sent, giving Troy a much-needed excuse. His legs did need some amount of rest, after all, so indulging the AI in his fantasies was not the worst of actions to take. Such a comment was taken back pretty quickly though. As instructed, the young man looked down at what his feet stood on. His expectance had been to see wet dirt, ready to show just how much dirt he would be forced to clean in the morning. Instead¡­ there was something else on display. It was a carcass of some sort. Troy could not tell the species, and neither could he really say how big it originally was. The outside had come off through time and scavengers, yet it could not have laid there for more than the day. Troy had certainly not seen it on his last journey on the path. The head¡­ What was that? Having glided his eyes along with the corpse, Troy was unsure of what he saw at the top. All the wounds had been done in scratches until then, showing evidence that it had all been done by animals both small and big. The head was different in that regard. It seemed as if the front had caved in somehow. From the presumed nose, a pit began, nearly going through the entire head. It had been an instant kill. Could¡­ was there an animal that could have done that? No, that did not make any sense. Something else was afoot. Troy could not understand it. An animal eaten by animals but killed by something else. If it had been close to the city, he could have attributed it to the police having been sent to exterminate it, yet with how far out they were¡­ nobody in their right mind would have gone out where he was. And certainly not anyone with the needed tools. He felt the need to question the AI immediately, yet Adam seemingly had other ideas. ¡®We will need to report this to the others. For now, you must hurry. Your body is shutting down more quickly than expected,¡¯ Adam said, his words just about as nice to hear as a rusty nail on a board. Troy had only such a thing once, yet he could firmly state his hate for it. Part of that hate-filled the start of his movement. A few steps were needed to get back onto the down-trodden path, but it then allowed him to walk further. The thirty seconds of pause had given him temporary relief, even if it came back two-fold after that time. Troy did not stop walking, however. Trees passed by him, a few birds fought to the side, and a couple of rocks had to be walked around. But he did not care for such things, only looking forward, going as fast as his incredibly tired body could muster. Then again, his body might just have been too tired to realise that things were around him. Troy did not know, for he did not think about it. He only walked forward, and nothing more than that. The body was too weak to do anything else. No thoughts regarding failure came forth. Not once did Troy think he would fail to get to the hide-out. Such thoughts were reserved for his dead-bed, and even then it would only be if he remembered to do it. Remembering currently was hard for him, leaving chances for such a thought to be close to zero. One step forward and another step forward. Not the most catchy of tunes to have, but it worked well for the man. Only the rhythm carried him. Though¡­ that rhythm was becoming a bit uneven. One step would get two quick follow-ups, and then have the man be balanced on one foot for upwards of two whole seconds. It was as if his brain was having a hard time keeping up with present events. ¡®Troy, you need to move.¡¯ Troy would have done well as a ballerina. His current actions were proof of that. Balancing for anything more than an instant was a righteous fool¡¯s dream. While his other foot might not land on the ground, it certainly did its best to move the main body, even if that meant making it twirl. It was disorienting to experience, but it hardly worsened the experience. ¡­ Forget that last part. Troy certainly had, his legs falling together in a heaping pile. His rear had firmly planted itself on the path. That was not good. He was cold. His legs were not responding. The young man tried to glide his finger across his left leg, but he couldn''t figure out if he actually touched it. The sensation in his finger had disappeared. That couldn''t be good¡­ had he thought that before? ¡®You need to get up, Troy. You will freeze.¡¯ That was true. Or was it? Troy was feeling rather hot, actually. If he had the ability to really move his fingers, he would have taken off his clothes. Instead, he just tried to be still. No movement equalled no heat generated right? He had too much of it right now¡­ it was tiring. ¡®Troy. Get up.¡¯ Troy couldn''t hear him. Even if the young man had been shouted at, he would not have heard it. With an empty stomach, wounds all over, and left in a cold area for too long, should there have been any other expectation? Footsteps came close and closer. Adam was the only one to hear them, as the young man had gone cold everywhere but deep inside. Chapter 297: Taught
Troy¡¯s eyes came open in an instant. He needed to move! He would freeze to death in minutes if he continued where he was. His body was at its limits, yes, but that was no reason to silently accept his demise. No! He needed to- "Don''t overexert yourself. If you become weaker, I will not be able to guarantee that you will be standing in the next couple of days," Charlie said, pushing Troy down on the bed¡­ wait, what? Bed? Where was he again? Looking around, the snowy landscape had disappeared into nothingness, replaced with the interior of their stolen lodge. Just when had he gotten there? Troy could certainly not remember walking the last kilometre. Had he¡­ had he blacked out? His body had been at the point of collapse, so there might have been a chance of it. Not feeling like immediately disobeying, Troy gotta feel the consequences of his last adventure. His skin felt hot as if it was going to melt off. His nerves had become extremely sensitive, making every burst of air feel like a thousand paper cuts. The skin between his fingers screamed, and he could only clench his jaw as a reaction. Slowly, he returned his head to the bedding. His eyes felt heavy, and it was hard to get a look at how he was doing. "Any injuries I should be worried about?" Troy asked, already preparing himself for the worst. He would have to lie low for a while and leave some of the daily tasks to Charlie. The man was already overworked as it was. Could he take some painkillers and run it off? That had worked before, even if he had gained quite the resistance for the drug. "Nothing really serious," Charlie said, pricking Troy¡¯s toes with a needle. The young man attempted to pull away, but the larger one was quick to hold him down. There was only a need for a small reaction, after all. Anything more would only complicate things. And be incredibly painful as well, of course. God, his legs hated him. The soreness was barely noticed, his outer layers of flesh damning Troy for all eternity. Any movement was akin to a burning iron forced on his skin. "If you had continued to lie in the snow, you would have had an acute dose of frostbite. There was some of it developing on your feet, but I got that taken off quickly," Charlie continued, pricking each of Troy¡¯s digits in a quick fashion. Having realised the pattern, the younger one just moved the touched toe or finger when he felt something. Nothing more was needed nor was it desired. "If it had been ten minutes more outside, you would have likely succumbed to the weather. Not the greatest death to have. Be glad that I found you in time." Ten minutes had been the difference between living in pain and oblivion¡­ huh. That was not a fact Troy wanted to know. The small amount his head had been raised was retracted, the young man pushing his head a bit deeper into the thin pillow. He felt the need for it. ¡®I personally saw it as closer to five minutes, which is why I will again reiterate the need for you to handle yourself better in the future,¡¯ Adam supplied, being the helpful little twat he was. There was no desire to know the details, yet the AI had no qualms about giving it out nonetheless. Truly a saint for masochists. Maybe the guy would enjoy getting a gift basket for his actions. Wait¡­ no, that did not make sense. Something said had been wrong. Troy didn''t notice it instantly due to his still-addled mind, but it was becoming more clear that something was not as it seemed. Looking over to the sofa, Dr Hale was fast asleep. She looked peaceful in her slumber as if not a single thing was wrong with her. The bucket half-filled with the blood to the side ruined that illusion quickly, but that snippet of time was a great joy. It almost made Troy forget an important fact. "Why were you outside?" Troy asked Charlie. The man was still tending to him, doing whatever to the undersides of his feet. It was impossible to really ignore, but the young man did his best to stay still. He knew the precision needed, and the consequences if any of it was messed up. "I would have expected you to be tending to Dr Hale all day around." Charlie slowed his movements when her name was mentioned. He did not stop, though, the man becoming more careful at the mere mention of her. Troy could see he cared for her deeply when his body had grown to instinctually be more careful around her. What would happen if she fell? It was best not to think about it. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "Mara has been needing more fluids, and most of the water you had brought last time had been used for other activities," Charlie said, now wiping at Troy¡¯s feet with disinfectant. It stung badly. Did he have blisters? If so, he had not noticed them. Maybe a high pain tolerance did have some drawbacks. "I had to choose between waiting for you to get back and getting some, or going out by myself and hoping that everything would be alright." Troy had wondered how he had been found by a man so careful in his gaze. There was not a minute where Dr Hale would not be checked upon, to make sure her breathing was alright, and that she wasn''t freezing. The young man could still remember Charlie fuzzing around with multiple blankets, trying to get the woman to the perfect temperature. He had practically built her a cocoon back then. It had been funny at the time, even if the reasons behind the coldness had been¡­ unwelcome. "I initially chose to stay behind, but Mara convinced me to go out by myself¡­ or, whatever you can call it. She was passive-aggressive about it until I walked five meters away," Charlie ended it off with. It was clear that he had not been happy about leaving her, but that woman had control over everybody. If she wanted something to happen, it would happen. If an immovable object was to take five meters away from her, it damn well would. She was a force not conquered by near-total organ failure. "She was very persistent." There was a stifled chuckle. Troy felt the need for it, but he likewise felt that the situation required a bit more¡­ calm. Charlie was clearly doing his best at that emotion. And, he neither looked cold and nor did he seem to show indifference to Troy. If anything, the current atmosphere has the most positive one which there had been for a long time now. It might not have seemed that away, since they had hardly spoken, but the emotion in it was more than enough to convey a message of common ground. "I guess I should thank her for that," Troy said, again looking over at the woman. Even when sleeping, she looked ready to slap somebody senseless for their transgressions against her personally. She was somebody who was always ready for anything if that anything meant looking down on those around her. It sounded like such a bad trait, but it had more than grown on them both. "Without it, I would have more than frozen over. Wet clothes really are terrible to wear out there." His skin shiver even more at the thought of it. Charlie had apparently gotten them off him while he was asleep, which he was eternally grateful for, but there was no way he could have done it himself. They had stuck to his body with a suction force equal to a true vacuum. They would have been his doom without help, and that help had come in an overworked buddy of his. "I was wondering about that," Charlie said, starting to put pressure on the lower end of Troy¡¯s legs. What was he doing? The older man seemed to be pressing at specific places on the muscles, making them flex in response. A quick bop on the knee made it jump slightly. That hurt, making Troy hiss in displeasure. Somehow, that did nothing to make Charlie stop, even if he was a bit more gentle about it all. "How did you end up drenched while scavenging in an extremely dry city? Last I checked, there was no need to test out showers while inside the buildings." How fun. The older man thought he had started out with hot water. It was almost akin to sweet innocence, if not for it being the most logical path that could have been taken. Honestly, Troy would have likely never guessed the truth himself. "There were no showers, unfortunately," Troy said, wrinkling his nose slightly. Showers were a rare pleasure nowadays. There were no real chances for them, forcing them to more or less just do wipe-downs. At least it helped them use less water. "All this came from the river we all know and love. It was not the greatest experience if I''m being honest. Way too cold for comfort." Really, Troy had no love for those who liked bathing in the winter. It was supposed to be good for the skin, yes, but was the cost really worth it? That water was cold enough to hyperventilate in. It was a life-threatening danger if one was in it too long. What was there to like? Beauty products could do the job fine enough. "Why did you jump in the river exactly?" Charlie asked with mild curiosity. The man did not sound entirely pleased by Troy¡¯s actions. Oh boy¡­ he had not yet heard it all, yet he was already disapproving of it? Would the next minute be fun or terrifying? Only one way to know! "It was an accident, really," Troy started out, doing his best to keep a smile from his face. It was easy since Charlie was doing a few things subtly. Points on his body were being pressed, and it was not as enjoyable as he had hoped. His skin was definitely alive. That much was known. "A chance can end in many ways, and one of them is that I end up on a cliff beside a river, and left with no chance but to slowly back over to an edge that I don''t really know when I¡¯ll reach. A scary experience overall, but I guess it could have gone worse. I''m alive, and that''s what matters most for me." This time, Charlie just stopped entirely. There was only so much that could be said before the mind needed some time to itself. Charlie certainly looked a little stumped for the first second. Then, he looked at the young man with quite a high level of intensity. "You jumped off a cliff." There was no question. Just an outright statement. Charlie seemed to have caught on. Troy couldn''t help but smile at that expression. "Yup. A full thirty meters. Hurt like hell. Might explain some of the red spots," Troy said. He remembered having landed with his palms hitting the surface at a weird angle. Without even looking at them, he could tell it would be an annoying endeavour to handle anything for the next couple of days. Not many things could heal a red mark made from sudden pressure. It was a matter of repairing way too much skin. Charlie just stared at him. The man clearly believed him. There was no reason not to. His bruised body was more than enough proof that something had occurred. While asleep, some padding had been put on Troy¡¯s side, making sure that nothing would happen to the wound on it. His arm grazed it when he shuffled a little. Not the most annoying thing in the world, but it would be better than nothing "... You are going to explain what you did today." Troy had no problems with that. In fact, he felt like he would enjoy it a lot. Chapter 298: Spent
The next ten minutes were spent meticulously putting out a certain chase. Troy did not skimp on the details, putting out everything he could remember, and some bits that he hadn''t had the slightest clue of. The latter had been helpfully supplied by Adam, the AI seeming to have more of an overseer mood. Usually, the little guy would have corrected something said, making it clear that fact needed to be lined up linearly, yet there was not the slightest complaint from him. Curious. Charlie looked entranced by the description. Or maybe the man was doing his best to not choke Troy out. It was hard to tell, that static expression telling nothing. The man just listened, not nodding or anything. He hardly even blinked. Troy supposed that was due for the course. Not every day that he came home telling of a death-defying run. "That''s about when I resurfaced from the water. It was not the proudest moment of my life, but I still take a little indulgence in the fact I could hold my breath for so long," Troy said, beginning to end his little story-time. It was not the most pleasurable speech, his lungs having grown tired of the constant talk. Could also have been a side-effect of the aforementioned adventure, but who could really tell? It hurt and that was all that mattered in the end. "Lost my lunch, nearly froze to death, and now I have to live with the fact that I have a low constitution." His story ended there, him lying on a thin sheet, being comforted by a man who looked halfway to the path of demise. Fun. Not. But, it was what it was, and it certainly seemed to have held the older one¡¯s attention. "... You have done a lot today. Don''t do it again," Charlie said after a while. Troy couldn''t have agreed more to the order. There was not a single bone in his body that was ready to take another jump, and all his muscles were already screaming in agony over the idea of taking another endurance run. He had outrun an enhanced person, and there was no way he would ever top that. "Wouldn''t dream of it." "Good. You shouldn''t," was said. Not by Charlie though. That man looked as surprised by the voice as Troy. No, it was Dr Hale who had uttered those words, seemingly awake from her slumber. How had they not noticed? Maybe the story had just been too good, distracting both far too much for comfort. "Had a good few hours under your belt?" Troy asked, turning his head to face the woman. He even put on a small smile, showing a hint of teeth. "I find such a task impossible when those around me seem to have an unnerving desire to shout at every possible opportunity," Dr Hale said, plainly saying that everything said had been heard clearly. Troy wouldn''t have guessed her to have been asleep the entire time. She was a good actor alright. "You looked so deep in your slumber that I could not help but think that our voices would not be heard," Troy said, putting on the charm just for her. He knew perfectly well how much it annoyed her, the slight twitch of her eyebrow telling a thousand tales. "But, now that I actually know that you are awake, I guess I could put in one final detail that I neglected to tell you." Brows were raised from both sides, Charlie going so far as to lean in a bit more than before. It was as if Troy was going to tell a dirty secret about the next-door neighbour or something. Oh, the memories. "As you both know, we have been searching for a specific instrument. One that will be helping us more than we could ever hope for. Welp¡­ we¡¯ve found it!" What Troy was expecting from that news? Maybe some applause at first, some cries of jubilation, and then ending it off with a good old laugh as great friends. What he did not expect was that Charlie would immediately get up from his position, and power walk over to Troy¡¯s bag, ripping it open to get what was inside. Pill-cases fell to the floor. The paper on the outside was soggy, but the insides were likely as dry as always. Troy was still happy about getting those, as they would help with some of the problems they had faced as of late. Charlie¡­ did not have the same attitude. "Where is it? Did you leave it at the river?" Charlie close to shouted, having thoroughly inspected the now-ripped apart bag that Troy had carried around for weeks. The sight of its destruction brought pain to his gut, but he knew that it wasn''t important now. The older man was already putting on his gear in vain. It was a hurtful sight to see. "No¡­ it isn''t anywhere close by here. Walking there would take hours now," Troy said, putting up his voice so that Charlie would hear. And he did, slowing down in his equipment. But he did not stop. He just needed to know where to go. There was no hint of him not going the moment he understood the location. "Where? In the city? Did you hide it on the outskirts?" Charlie fired off, the questions coming right off each other. The man hardly took a breath afterwards. He was set on getting it this very second. Troy did not doubt he would run non-stop, maybe even use his enhancement to get there a bit faster. "I lost hold of it when I was thrown through the window," Troy said, internally wincing at the throat. He could still feel all the glass shards grinding up against his face. If he had been even slightly unlucky, his eyes would have been filled. Instead, he just got a few cuts here and there. Yet, there had still been more than enough to make his grip lose its power, letting the acquired item fall to the ground. "There¡¯s next to no chance of it still being there, Charlie." "Then forget about that single one. You got it from the store. A store has more than one. If I hurry, I should be able to-" The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Mr Freeman, sit down and shut up," Dr Hale said, getting up from her lying position. She had seemingly had enough, her face tensed in mild irritation. Oh, boy, that was not good. Charlie, having been conditioned to always take the woman¡¯s safety over his own, did as asked within the same second. The gear held in his arms was put next to him. The blood seemed to drain from his face, the older man¡¯s body looking like it lost blood. "If you go out there now, you will ruin what we have done until now. Could you not use that brain of yours, when you brag about that perceived intelligence so much. Troy was almost captured, after having disabled all alarms, and only having been there for two minutes. You have no equipment to handle such activities, and there is no way you could do it at the same speed." The older man looked ready to protest but was cut off by Dr Hale continuing. Her nose had begun to drip blood, but that only seemed to cause more fervour in her words. "And that is when you don''t even consider the possibility that they have heightened the security. Do you believe that they will look at it passively, and only react when attacked? They will prepare for the next assault, and they will have somebody stationed. Troy has been going around the outskirts, and they have figured that out now. So¡­ sit down, do nothing else than what you normally do, and don''t go out when you know that you will fail." Dr Hale was forced to use some paper to wipe away the blood. Some of it had come down and dripped off of her chin. It looked disgusting, and Troy could only think that it felt similarly gross. The woman was forced to lie down again, not of her own free will, but because her arms stopped supporting her. Charlie rushed to her aid, giving Troy a look that very clearly told him to stay put. The large man was the only one able to care for either two, and nothing would change that. Troy just put his head down on the pillow again, looking up at the ceiling in wonder. They were getting closer to getting out of the city. Dr Hale would be healed soon enough. Charlie might even begin to smile again. They just needed it. The moment the gear would be found in their possession, Charlie could begin doing his magic. It would not be perfect, it would not work forever, but as long as they had it, they could redo it at any time it was needed. ¡®You should not feel too guilty about losing the device. With the size, it would have likely caused your death in the river,¡¯ Adam said after some time. Somehow, Troy was unsure whether the words were comforting or laden with undeserved dread. "Guess that is one way to think about it," Troy muttered softly. There were no real attempts at using sign language, his digits still feeling like they were ready to combust into flames. "Maybe there would have been another method of escape. Something that would have made it possible to bring over here." Such a path would have required you to have gone unnoticed. This possibility has been deemed near-zero when factoring in the need to grab the item itself from the store. By the time you had run out, you would have been noticed no matter what.¡¯ "Then I should have gone in at another time," Troy said, defending the wrong side of the equation. "The car would have been at another side of the city by then." ¡®Or it could have been lying in wait the entire time, making the timing of the break-in irrelevant. There is no way to know. You only need to remember that nothing you do will change the result and that you can only work ahead from here.¡¯ Troy chuckled softly at that. It was like the AI had finally begun to accept philosophy as an acceptable profession. "You''re beginning to sound like those self-help guides," Troy pointed out, working a small smile on his face. "I distinctly remember you criticizing them last week. Was there any change in perspective?" ¡®My perspective has always been my own and always will be my own. There has been no change. It is only the interpretation of the subject matter which has deviated.¡¯ "... You¡¯re just in denial over having a changed perspective." ¡®I assure you that I am not.¡¯ "That''s what somebody in denial would say." ¡­ Troy knew he had pushed a button there. The AI might have appreciated the intelligent conversation, but when word-traps were used against him, there was a period of time where Adam was a bit¡­ miffy about it all. Frankly, it was a rare occurrence to have. They usually did not have the opportunity for such a set-up, seeing as the AI usually diverted the talk away from it. But, when the chance of it came, Troy always took it. There were some contradictions in that, him not wanting to start conflict, yet still doing his best to start it when the risk came forth. It was rare, okay? An experience not common. And Troy did enjoy doing it, to some degree. Outsmarting another through words alone, making them look a fool. Sure, it mostly devolved into stupid things, but there was a pleasure to be had. And it wasn''t even that bad, really. Adam would sulk about having lost in a social contest, yes, but the AI would be back on his feet within a few seconds. Troy had talked it over with him before. No hard feelings came from it, other than some minor negativity that would fade quickly enough. The AI could survive, jumping back into it after a moment of recollecting. ¡®When do you believe we will leave for another excursion into the city?¡¯ Adam asked, doing just as predicted. The little guy always had one subject needing to be asked about, always important enough to make Troy diverge his entire path of thought. "What do you mean?" Troy asked. The question was weird, yes, but¡­ was the answer not obvious? "Tomorrow? Maybe in two days. It depends on whenever I can move my body. It would not do good to jump down another cliff and not survive the journey." The last part came with a small chuckle. Here he was, only barely able to move, and already planning to try another jump. His body might have been able to build resistance to many things, but blunt pressure was something that he would never adapt to. There was not a bone in his body that did not fear. Maybe he should get some more calcium in his diet. ¡®Physical fitness is important. I can agree on that side. However, Dr Hale brought up an important fact. They are beginning to grow faster in responding. We¡¯ve had two close calls within two days. Do you not think we need to act before it happens a third time?¡¯ Adam inquired. Troy had to take a moment to just think about it. It was as the AI had said. Two near-captures within two days. It was not the worst they had tried out individually, but together¡­ It did not look good. Really, there had been no problems with the current city before. Troy and Adam had always been able to stroll in without too much trouble. They had been slow to respond. And, that had changed now. They had picked up on the strategy laid out and were doing their best to attack the weaknesses. "I can see what you mean," Troy said, nodding his head in tandem. They did need to make some kind of change to their strategy. But¡­ What could they do? Troy was not made for those kinds of brain-storms. "Any plans already in the mix?" That was the good thing about having an AI inside one¡¯s head. When in doubt, ask the one who can''t physically sleep. ¡®I do have a few ideas. Would you like to hear them?¡¯ Looking over at the other two in the room, things seemed to have calmed down. No reason to stress, then. Troy just nodded into the empty air, letting the AI start on what would be a detailed plan on the level of a doctorate thesis. In other words, it would be a good hour or two before he got the chance to sleep. Nothing too bad about that fact, but it was nice to know beforehand. Helped with calming the mind. Chapter 299: Sold
Time passed quickly when fun was had. It should have. It made no sense. Yet, time had no care for how humans thought and sped up in their happiest moments nonetheless. Cassandra heard excuses for the higher speeds, that the brains temporarily forgot to count the seconds. She thought that was straight-up bullshit. Not anymore, though. Cassandra had always been a time-person. There was not a second where she would not know how long till a minute has passed. Nobody asked for it but her. Normally, she would even have a digital clock in the upper right of her vision. The knowledge of the time was calming. Therein did the conundrum stay. If the information was in front of her eyes at any hour of the day, would she not learn to ignore it? Constants were overlooked in favour of letting up space in the active memory. It was only when thinking about it that she even noticed that six-digit timer. Granted, it was almost always she thought about it, yet that did not mean she always looked at it. In times of great action, Cassandra would not have been able to tell the time, her eyes honed in on the external instead of anything internal. But, it was also not only heated moments, as she had come to learn. In times of laziness, where the texture of a chess piece could indulge her attention for several minutes, Cassandra found it hard to even care about how much time she wasted. The woman always so stuck up about making every second count had fallen in the span of just a few hours, left to walk among the others of her new class. "I think I should do it," Jules said. The automation would not stop eyeing the wall. Cassandra did the same, in some fashion. There were a couple of obvious hand-holds, but there was no way it could be realistically done. Getting a ladder would be much more practical. And, more importantly, it would pose less of a security risk to do so. "I highly advise you to think about this as a human being. Your inferior programming might finally show itself off if you decide to take the wrong choice in this endeavour of yours," Cassandra said, internally wanting to see what would happen. She did not need to pay for it in the worst case, and¡­ it was not every day that something of this calibre was seen. At least not in real life. Stunt performers usually had that job. But, were the greatest performers, not those who could go beyond the human limit. Who would want to see the old Olympics when they knew that the downtown police officer could run that same stretch in half the time? Who would want to see a high-jump, when it could easily be beaten by rescue units? Who wanted to see bricks broken with one palm, having trained for it their entire lives, when an old man could do the same with only a year of training? It was baseless to assume that pure power would help negate skill, but there had to be some point where it was accepted. "It''s only inferior if it fails, and there is no way I would fail. I am just too perfect for that," Jules said, taking the first towards the vertical wall. Oh¡­ the scrap bucket had made a choice. "Here. We. Go." A running start, entering into a high jump. That helped bridge the initial gap where nothing could be gripped. Cassandra knew it could jump much higher than those two meters. But, doing so would likely crack the walls. Automations were not good at displaying their strength when the surroundings needed to be in mint condition afterwards. The second law played too hard against them. "Could you take a picture," Jules half-shouted down at Cassandra. There was no need for that, seeing as they were the only two in the break-room. Maybe the perceived height brought the illusion that higher volumes were needed? Or, maybe it was just another blunder made to make it look more realistic. "I need to show this off later." Even if the automation could clearly just have used one of the many cameras looking their way, Cassandra decided to indulge it, even if it was just a temporary thing. Bringing in the application, she put up a running roll of film at the automation. Everything she saw would be noted down. Jules would have to personally decide which frames would be the best. The building was one of the older ones. While still made in the last decade, it had been made in a time where displaying the iron beams had been popular. This made the higher parts of the break room filled with places to put one¡¯s hands. With the right skill and reach, one could travel anywhere. There was always just the danger of falling three meters down, but who would need to think of such? Cassandra could survive it, and so could Jules. The floor, however? It might get bent down by the slightest bit. The automation began the journey across the ceiling, using individual fingers to hold on. If both hands had been available for use, it would have been a much easier task. Yet¡­ the bucket of stupid metal had decided to make it that much harder for itself. "Steady now. If you fall, you will cause major damage to the furniture and table," Cassandra warned. This was the dangerous part. If the automation fell, the wooden pieces would have no chances of holding up against the sudden force. No repairs would be possible, forcing the woman to pay for replacements. And¡­ they were not cheap, being worth four whole days of work. "Just put it in and get down the way you came up." "By jumping? I thought that was exactly what I wasn''t supposed to do," Jules said, being a smug little thing. If it had been within reach, Cassandra would have slapped its backhead. However¡­ she was more preoccupied about worrying her head off at the sight. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The automation had seemingly desired that using hands for gripping was a stupid endeavour. With no need for moving around, the feet had been put to the task of holding the scrap-iron up in the air, positioned in such a way that the toes could take the pressure. This left the two hands to do the one task that had been planned for so long. Changing a light-bulb. It had taken a good twenty minutes to figure out where they were being kept, but it was more than worth it. The older light had caused Cassandra so much despair after its unsymmetrical flickering had been noticed by Jules and sequentially being pointed out to her. It had been the bane of so much hatred, the woman¡¯s brain refusing to forget the sight. It came to show on every surface in the entire breakroom. Looking at it directly made her realise how out of sync it really was with the other lamps. Looking away from it made her see the shadows on the ground not matching up, that they would change with a random frequency. Something was wrong with it. Having gone to the extreme of looking up when it was last replaced, Cassandra found the information spotty. According to the archives, it had supposedly been put up at the building¡¯s original creation. But, they were never one to question information, when it was officially sourced, making the two feel the extreme need to fix the presumed problem. For Cassandra, she had gotten the perfectly logically idea of filing in a report about the issue, and waiting the standard time for a certified repairman to come and take a look at it. Jules, in its full intelligence, had decided that her idea was utterly terrible, and that waiting a single second was a ¡®sin again John Carlin himself.¡¯ Cassandra had not personally understood it but had nonetheless agreed to try it out. Though¡­ that had been mostly due to her role in it all. Sure, she had been the one to find the storage room, but the actual replacement process was entirely Jules¡¯ job. As it was now, the automation dangling over expensive furniture, while muttering what sounded like an old kid¡¯s theme song, Cassandra had to wonder how much blame she would get for it. What excuse was there for the current situation? Reason for insanity? Accidental intoxication of life? A stupid new worker who was so clumsy that she forgot the rules? Playing a dumb blonde was not too hard, but it only worked with those she hadn''t talked with for too long. Jared would surely not overlook that faked lack of wisdom. ¡­ Okay, maybe he would. Cassandra was not too sure. He was forgiving, so it did not matter too much. A few tears needed to be shed, and they would be right back on the good foot, no thoughts about the thousands of repairments costs. In fact¡­ this might just be an opportunity to finally exploit the man. If all else failed, Cassandra could always try the route of making him pay. "Catch!" Cassandra barely had time to look up, before she was forced to jump forward, to grab the light bulb thrown her way. It was the old one, slightly hot to the touch, and dusty enough to cause an allergic reaction to the unfortunate ones in society. Cassandra certainly looked at it with mild annoyance. It had been the reason behind her troubles for the past hour. When Jules finished the job, they would be throwing it out. The woman had to make sure it would never be used again. The automation brought out the new bulb, with a twist of its fingers. Pressing against the socket, Jules began to screw it on. Or, was that tried to screw it on? The first time around was a failure, the automation having put it in the wrong way. The second pressure was taken off it, the bulb began falling towards the floor. Jules barely catched it, and then barely continued being up on the ceiling. Cassandra had backed away the second it had been dropped. "... Sorry," Jules said apologetically. Cassandra was not happy but was more just disgruntled than anything else. A minor mistake had almost cost her a lot of money. "Second time is the charm¡­ right?" "It is traditionally the third, but you should not dare fail again," Cassandra corrected, her gaze unwavering. She did not accept failure here. However¡­ a few more steps away had been made. While she did not accept it, there was nothing really stopping it from happening. And if it did happen, nothing was stopping her from being a good distance away from it. Jules looked a bit sheepish as it bent down¡­ bent up and began to screw the light in again. This time, the focus was spent making sure that it had been put in properly. No mistake made twice in a row could be forgiven, and an automation capable of learning a language in a matter of minutes did not make such a human action. Failure after failure? It would not happen. And it didn''t happen. The process was slow, yes, but each twist made the light-bulb grow more inward. After some time, it did not allow itself to go deeper. Jules could have surely forced the lamp deeper, but there was no need for such a thing yet. With no spoken words, Cassandra went over to the side of the room, pressing the switch on the wall. "Let there be light." And there was light. It was beautiful. Not in a traditional manner, of course. More in an abstract form. An automaton was wearing an expression of wonder while looking at a lamp, simultaneously standing on the ceiling, the only thing holding it up being the toes in the crevices of an iron beam. Perhaps there was some global meaning to the sight. Cassandra did not spend any thought trying to find it. The abstract was sometimes just meant to be abstract, and she would spend no time trying to figure out the true meaning behind it. Certainly not when her boss walked inside the break room. How long had he been standing there? Cassandra could not remember. She had been too distracted to pay attention. Just like the time. "Should I ask about the ways you are using expensive police equipment?" Officer Grunwald asked. It was somehow not set up as a rhetorical question. He was genuinely asking her. "I would prefer it if you didn''t," Cass answered, being in a similar state of not wanting the situation to be dealt with on a professional level. Really¡­ was there any way to treat the current scenario in such a way? The woman could remember no real laws against the actions done, but that was more or less due to the total ridiculousness about it. "I would love it," Jules said in protest, putting its arm up¡­ down. Cassandra gave the automation a blank stare at that. She could only imagine that the other officer in the room did the same. "... We are discussing in the meeting room when Jared comes back. There has been contact with the group again," Officer Grunwald said after a time. "Be ready within the next five minutes." A meeting. That was good to know. Cassandra was meant to be on duty in nine hours, and she already had the promise of not getting much sleep beforehand. Welp¡­ nothing to do when duty called. Grunwald began to walk out of the breakroom again, before looking back one last time. "And, lastly, please do not perform something like this again. We have an image to uphold." Cassandra silently nodded. Looking up, she could see Jules doing a salute. A forehead was slapped due to excessive fatigue. The seconds had been counted, and they had passed much too slowly. Chapter 300: Contentment
After waiting for Jules to get down from the ceiling, both walked out of the breakroom. Cassandra never knew a time where she had spent as much time inside it. Yet, it took less than a glance back before she left it. There was nothing special about it. The only real point that needed to be addressed was how much time had been wasted inside it. Break rooms were not for work. That had been noticed. Even one so strict as her could not help but fall under its effect of relaxation. Her body had not felt calmer, her mind never having been as quiet inside it. While Cassandra would have loved to say that she detested the idea of staying inside another time, there was no real animosity towards it. Having spent so long without thought, she felt like she could have a thousand more before she would need a single pause. "Did you get any good pictures?" Jules asked as they went out the door. The automation seemed to find nothing more important than a dangerous deed that was done mere moments ago. How fascinating automation could be. They were meant to be simple and orderly, yet the bucket somehow managed to be both complex and utterly annoying to work with. Once again, it was a shame that there were direct rules against striking anything with a humanoid appearance. "I got a video of it all," Cassandra said, mentally ordering it to be sent over. She had stopped the film some seconds ago, yet had never gotten around to actually transmitting it. "The quality would have to be subjective, so I can''t say anything regarding how good they are." "Yeah¡­ no. That''s not gonna work for me," Jules said, negating Cassandra¡¯s attempt to be entirely neutral about it. Speaking positive words about certain actions could equal partial guilt in court, and there was not a chance she wanted to test how many microphones were present in the station. "Last time I checked, you were saying some shit about me not being alive. Am I wrong so far?" Cassandra had to look over at the automation. How peculiar a way to start one¡¯s words with. What was it thinking? Processing. What was it processing inside its chest? Was it hoping to make her unhinged, to throw her off-course? Maybe it was a blunder in itself, fudging its roll-on charisma. Artificial imperfections creating the perfect asshole. "You are not," Cassandra said, not feeling like saying anything else. It wasn''t like she even knew what else to say. "What of it?" "How can something which isn''t alive speak on behalf of the living? How can I expect my own taste to match yours, when I apparently don''t have any taste to begin with?" Jules said. Even if the woman fully understood the automations to throw her off course, there was not a part of her mind which was not hit hard. It was not something she wanted to hear. Nor did she expect it out of the thing¡¯s mind. "Just be a sweetheart and check over those pictures. There should be some of them which you like. And, if chances hit right, we might even have enjoyed a few of them together." A pat on the back was had, and the automation continued walking down the corridor. There was a small way as if it was yet again listening to some song sung a century ago. It infuriated Cassandra to no end. It made her angry that the thing pushed her outside her walls, that it made her become lazy, that it made her angry, and that it¡­ ¡­ Cassandra put on the video to the side. Her footsteps became quick so that she could catch up, but there was not a moment where she did not monitor the video. At every second, there was something which she noted down, some frame that put itself out there more than the others. There was no real understanding of why this was, but her mind obeyed her desires without question. The station was not the largest, allowing her to reach the meeting room in a quick stride. No time was lost, seeing as Jared had yet to come inside. Or, she could certainly not see him from the window. Cassandra had not yet walked inside, still standing in front of the door. This was not because of a lacking desire to go inside. No, it was because one other clothed humanoid was standing there as well. "You¡¯re slow," Jules said. The automation balanced itself on its toes, slightly swaying its arms as a method of balance. Cassandra did not doubt that it could have done the same act without moving a single motor. "The shoes are holding you back." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Looking down at the automation, the woman noted a lack of footwear. When exactly had it¡­ no matter. Cassandra did not want to know. Though¡­ did Jules even have them on in the break room? That was something to consider. "I believe my shoes work perfectly fine in their current condition," Cassandra stated, clicking her heels together in impatience. Had the bucket of scrap waited outside just for that comment. "Shall we go in?" Cassandra¡¯s hand was already reaching towards the door handle, but it was stopped midway. Jules¡­ had stopped her, the automations hand having grabbed hers. Just what did it think that it was- "Not sure that¡¯ll be the greatest idea to have," Jules said, cutting off the woman¡¯s thought. "Do you think your boss would be unhappy if we missed it?" The automations hand did not use force, but neither did it allow Cassandra¡¯s own any hint of movement. It sat perfectly still. The woman was decently sure she could have relaxed it entirely without Jules even noticing. "Yes, I very much think so," Cassandra said, with a matter-of-fact voice. Her eyes were serious. "The boss expects us to be there as promised. Jared has intel that-" "You," Jules said, cutting in. "What?" Cassandra asked, not entirely sure what one word was going to do. "He expects you to be there," Jules explained. "From what I can remember in this non-existent brain of mine, there was no real mention of me being a part of the group." The first reaction from Cassandra was to call the automation an idiot and allow her to move things along, as they had already wasted too much time. The second thought¡­ was in a different direction. Ideas about what Jared thought of them, what had been said that very same day. It was almost as if there was an- "You¡¯re just being too absurd," Cassandra said, throwing off any ideas about Jules¡¯ word being true. "We will now go into the meeting, sit down, and listen to Jared give his intel when he comes around. I would right around now order you to shut up and refrain from complaining, but I am unfortunately unable to do so. However, I do still expect you to do just that. Understand?" Jules stared at her for three seconds before letting go of her hand. It took a small step back, and without a single word gestured at her to open the door. Cassandra, happy that it took her instructions well, did open it, allowing them both inside the room. Inside was a long table, ready to accommodate a good twenty people. Not that it had a chance of doing so, seeing as there were a total of three people on active duty, excluding any automations. But, even then, only one seat was taken, and that was the one in the back. "Is Jared expected to be here soon?" Cass asked, sitting next to Officer Grunwald. The man gave her a glance, before giving Jules a much longer one. The automation sat down in the chair to Cassandra¡¯s right, not speaking a word. "He will be here any second now. Then we can begin," Grunwald said, looking between the woman and the one who had followed her. He looked¡­ uncertain. Not sure if he would say something, swallowing his own spit more than once in the same minute. Cassandra noted it, before going back to her own waiting around. She had things to do, after all. The video that was meant to be overviewed by Jules had fallen into her own hands. She had barely gotten through the half, and the top-list was already growing too long for comfort. After the first sweep, she would have to do another. Then again¡­ it wasn''t every day that one got to see a recording of an automation swinging around on the ceiling like some form of ape. Sure, it was with its feet instead of arms, but that only made it all that much more special to see. Cassandra made sure to get a good deal of those shots added. Some of them would have to be removed later on, though. There were just too many of them already. "Cass. If I may, I have to ask why your issued automation is still online," Officer Grunwald asked, sounding a bit unsure about himself. Cassandra had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow. "I believe it is scheduled to be recharged at the current hour." ¡®That only takes thirty minutes max, just for your information¡¯ Jules supplied via digital communications. ¡®And there are enough powering stations for everybody. This station is made to handle a few hundred copies of the beautiful me.¡¯ "I was invited to play a few games of chess in my off time," Cass answered, not sure what she would do with the message from the automation. "As I have been lacking competition as of late, I did not think it too bad to have the automation out for a few hours more. And, since their powering takes close to no time, and since there isn''t a large line to be charged, I saw no problem with it either way." "And there is no problem in that," her boss said, counting her voids for himself. That was¡­ also not the tone she wanted to hear from him. "But, what we will be working with now is a sensitive matter. For the sake of security, we will be holding this information strictly to personnel who are not connected to the information grid." Cassandra stared into his eyes. From her side, she could hear Jules getting up from its seat. That was not what she wanted. ¡®Sit back down,¡¯ Cassandra sent. ¡®No¡­ I don''t think I will,¡¯ Jules sent right back. By the time the words had finished, the automation was already out the door. It was closed with a soft thud. In another situation, she would have stood up and made the automation sit back on its seat. But, she knew she would fail. Cassandra could not force it now. There was no way to get Jules back in place¡­ How peculiar a sensation she felt. What was this normally called? It had been quite a while since she had felt it. Shame? Arrogance? Shame over her own arrogance? Arrogant over what shame she had in herself? It was unknown what it was. Jared strode in not a minute later. The man looked over the meeting room, meeting the other two¡¯s eyes with a smile, before sitting himself down on the boss¡¯ right side. "So¡­ I have news. Not sure whether to call it good or bad, but you two can take it as you so desire. One of the thieves is dead. They killed themself." Chapter 301: Left
Death was a part of every being''s life. At some point, the living would perish. There might be a good reason why this was. The old needed to go so the new could come. The cycle needed to be continued, lest improvement would cease into a drawl. Cassandra disliked the latter argument, it being more or less a self-fulfilling prophecy. God is right because God said he always speaks the truth. What happens the moment he says he always lies? That was the right question to bring a cult into chaos. It would come as a sudden thing. Death always came suddenly. It was rare nowadays that people got to know of it before their time. With technology being as it was, nobody really died of old age. One chose to die. Medical equipment could keep one alive for as long as one desired. Not that it was a great experience. In all honesty, Cassandra had heard too many horror stories surrounding it. People over a century old, living in pain and fear, wanting it to cease but still wanting their minds to exist. An existential suicide plagued by the choice of wanting it all to end. They wanted to exist in the abyss, where matter did not exist, and there was no pain to be had or shared. The choice of it was a haunting experience, and the woman tried not to think about the time where she would have to make the request herself. Or¡­ would she? Recent times had shown off just how dangerous her job was, how high the risks were if something failed. A gun had been mere finger-widths away from her face, and the trigger had been pressed upon. It was only by a fluke that she sat on the chair, instead of being a corpse in a bag, ready to be sent over to the city¡¯s incinerator. Death was something that Cassandra would meet in her job, no matter what. Be that her own or somebody else¡¯s, it would always be there. It might be rare, it might not happen in several years in a row, but it would get around to taking another shot. Somebody would fall to the ground, somebody would feel their body go cold, and somebody wouldn''t even realise it before the void hit them from the back. Cassandra had accepted that part of her job long ago. She had listened to hour-long seminars about it, made to reiterate it in her own words, people making sure again and again that she understood what was being put on the line. There was not a moment where the woman had cared too much about it. She had accepted the risks, and would therefore bear them with a smile. Crying over her own actions¡¯ consequences was against her own moral code. Yet¡­ there was one thing where her code did not work. What happened when it came to another? Not another police officer but another person. A thief. How was one supposed to react to such a death? Was she meant to share her grief over the death of a criminal, to show that it was a bad thing that happened? Cassandra was not sure how to react. Officer Grunwald did have a general idea, however, the older man getting up from his chair in the span of a second. His fists hit the table, and there was definitely something cracking from the impact, be that the fingers themselves or the inside of the wood board. Cassandra found herself not worrying too much. "What!" Officer Grunwald shouted. It was clearly meant to be a question, but the volume hid that intention a bit too well. Cassandra would have likely winced from the sound if not for her training to deal with loud voices. If there was one thing her boss was good at, it was to shout at people delivering news like they were supposed to, apparently. Was that a good long-term decision? Probably not. Would the man do it anyway for a long time? The woman guessed that it would be so. "One of the thieves is dead," Jared said again, not seeming to realise that he needed to add some damn details to such a statement. Cassandra briefly tried to find the man¡¯s after-action report, only to find that it had yet to be written. Curious. The woman had found shame in the fact she had not read it before the start of the meeting, but the fact there had been no opportunity to do so since the start was disconcerting. "I know that one of them is dead since you just said that," Grunwald stated, sitting down on the chair again. "What happened? What made them¡­ kill themself?" Jared cleared his throat, readjusting himself in the chair he sat on, before putting his elbows onto the table. The man looked ready to tell of a grand adventure spanning decades while showing off those little details that would make a historian orgasm like a pig. Cassandra, in stark contrast, was hoping to have been able to read the details in the report meant to have been done before the meeting itself. Was the lack of those files important enough to bring up during the conversation? There were regulations against the current behaviour, but Jared had seniority over her by a long stretch. A dumb excuse would be all that was needed to make the matter void. "I am not too sure about that last part myself. The young one seemed much too willing to do it, as if being catched was much worse, for whatever dumb reason. Young people¡¯s reasoning, I suppose. We will never truly understand," Jared said, spoiling the ending of the tale from the get-go. Not the worst set-up, but one that was not needed in the current time. "As you already know, we got another ping sent off by the system, alarming us off the fact that a break-in had started. Since the alarm had said nothing, nor sent any messages at all, I assumed that it would be the¡­ group that we have been looking for. It was just our luck that I have was stationed just two hundred meters away, ready to respond to anything that-" "Save the lacklustre details for the filing," Officer Grunwald said. Cassandra could see in the man¡¯s vacant stare that he was using a digital notepad. There had clearly been a lacking skill in hiding such an action, but she found no reason to comment on that. Rather, she wanted the other one to continue at his earliest convenience. If she was to make the capture herself, she would need to know more. "Tell us your actions and the reasoning behind it. Nothing more." "... Sure, boss," Jared obeyed, giving a small salute. If it had been any other police station, that action would have earned a disciplinary hearing. Small acts of rebellion were not acceptable. "I arrived at the scene one and a half minutes after the alarm had stopped giving any signals. I would have gotten there faster, but the tighter roads made it hard to navigate. This is the reason why I decided to save time by parking right in front of the building." Well, that was one strike, according to the handbook. Letting the intruders know of them being noticed was not a good strategy overall. While not explicitly disallowed, there were strong hints regarding the needed subtlety of a cop. With no real clue of what to expect, it was almost a requirement to not be noticed before it was intended. Parking in front of a building that had been entered illegally¡­ there was no way Cassandra would willingly do so herself. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "The door into the store was open, leading me to believe more strongly that this was the group that we had been looking for," Jared continued, giving more clues into his own decisions. Even if the man had lacked the decency to write his own reports, he had clearly read Cassandra''s. She had done her best to constantly note that flaw in the group¡¯s breaking and entering. They always lacked subtlety when it came to going in and out without leaving any signs behind. "This is where I used that information of open doors to my advantage." "How so?" Officer Grunwald asked, not wanting to wait through Jared¡¯s longer dramatic pauses. The man should clearly have been a storyteller instead. In that profession, he might have been seen as being less annoying. "If a door was not open, it had not been opened at all. Any room with a single door to get inside must therefore have been empty of any would-be criminals," Jared said. That¡­ made a surprising amount of sense. Cassandra brought up a few pictures of the activity-site, to follow along with the man¡¯s descriptions. A visual feed was always great to have. "As you might have seen from the pictures, the main store was one big room, where one person of average height could overview all the sides. This allowed me to look at every door that could have been touched. And, just my luck, not a single one had been opened. From this, I deduced one fact. The people who had gone inside were in the main room with me, hiding from me, and doing their best to go unnoticed. With me so far?" Both Cassandra and the boss nodded, not wanting to spend time using words. Even if Jared did not let it out often, the man was still smart. Sure, he was holding a moral code a decade out of date, there were times where he would mess up badly, and there were moments where one had to think if he was doing alright mentally. But¡­ sometimes, just sometimes, one could actually see the brilliance shine through his eyes. Years upon years of hard experience with clearing buildings made the man a master of his craft, and there was not one person in the room who would criticize that fact. "There were some thoughts about how to draw them out," Jared informed the two. Cassandra herself had a few ideas on how it might have been done, but she saved those for the reveal. Sharing notes was always the best way to learn, after all. "I thought about challenging them directly, making them know their position as prey. A standard fear tactic, you might say. But¡­ I decided to do something different in my position. As Cass mentioned in her reports, multiple people are in the group. Fear does not always work when in large numbers. Therefore, I tried playing the game of fake security. Since I could not see them, it most likely meant that they could not see me. There were no reflections, no nothing that would let him see me without sticking their heads out. If I made it sound like I was going into the next room, what would be the immediate reaction from the thieves?" ¡­ "They would try to escape?" Cass suggested. It was the most obvious answer. It could also be that they would try to find more items to steal, but would that not be too dangerous a game to play? "Exactly what I thought, Cass," Jared said with a smile, seeming happy that his logic was being followed along with. "And that one did. Tried to stand up, back bent a little forward, and take a small, silent jog towards the front entrance. Poor kid had no idea what was happening when I swung him through the window." Silence stretched the room in an instant. That was not right. Jared must have been joking. He had to be. "Would you like to reiterate your last statement?" Officer Grunwald said, his eyes honing in on the other man in the room. He was also in need of more information. "Sure. I snuck up behind the criminal, and, as the most obvious way of incapacitation, threw him through the store¡¯s display window," Jared said straight-faced. The man looked between his boss and Cassandra a few times before a light seemingly turned on in his head. "Oh, I should probably give a reason for that, right? As you might see from my words, these actions do not co-exist with the rules we have for arresting civilians who have done criminal acts. However, my actions do work with what we have in the allowed codex for actions against people with physical enhancements." "What led you to believe that they had physical enhancements exactly?" Cass asked. She had most definitely not written such a thing down in her report. "Deduction through experience. Specifically, I believe that the thief I threw through the window was an enhancement-user that had been equipped with a constitution-specialised enhancement," Jared explained. The other two just listened. "His description matched what Cass had described in her report. While not being explicitly said, I noted that the young man¡¯s ability to throw off a high-tier sedative in the span of three minutes tops was highly unusual. It would take extensive conditioning for such a thing to occur in a normal human body, usually over the span of several decades. Since the kid had to be less than twenty-five, I naturally had to assume that other methods had been used. Hence the idea of the constitution based enhancement." Cassandra sat back in her chair. It made sense, yes, but the risks attached¡­ she wouldn''t have done it. Not that she could, really, her strength not good enough to throw somebody through a¡­ wait. "Did he go through the window?" Cassandra asked. Briefly, she chastised herself for not using her normal tone, but, neither of the others seemed to notice. "Yeah," Jared said, smiling a little. "It was surprising. Didn''t know I had that kind of strength in me. Good to know that these bones are still good for something." "Then your guess must have been fact, after all," Cass said. "The tensile strength of the glass was high. Extremely high. A human body would have had its bone crushed before there was any chance of making the window have the slightest of fractures¡­ Are you sure there were no deformities on the panes?" "None that I could see, no," Jared said. That answer took Cassandra back a little, to the point where she briefly thought about going out and checking the window for herself. Maybe the documents had been faked? If not¡­ "Would you describe how the enhancer came to kill themself? I believe you left out a few details there." "Oh, yeah, sure. Completely forgot about that part. That little detour threw me off a bit," Jared said, before getting back into position. "As one might have guessed, the enhancement user was completely unfazed by my throw, getting up and beginning to run. Couldn''t see his face, by the way. It was all blurry. Not nice on the eyes." Another detail that had been confirmed. But, not the detail that was desired. No comment was made to it, allowing the man to continue unheeded. "It was not the most flashy of chases. With the distance that was gotten on me before I started to run, I couldn''t catch up until the last moment. While there might not have been much in the speed department, there was nothing making the kid slow down. He could weave through the forest easily," Jared said, sounding mildly annoyed by that fact. It was understandable, the man normally able to catch most runners. Cassandra had seen the tapes before. "We reached the river down that way. Though I am unsure if it was planned action or not, we came to a standstill on the cliff sides, close to forty meters down to the river. The kid was on the edge, looking to be debating between me and the long way down. This is where he actually began talking to somebody through transmitters, so we can add that as another proof that it''s a group we are dealing with. There''s not really much more to it. The kid backed off the cliff, falling down into the river, and likely died on the spot. By the way, we¡¯re going to have to get a team sent down so the body can be retrieved. Not sure if the animals will get to it or not." ¡­ Once again, Cassandra felt like putting her hands to her face, just spending a few seconds breathing in and out. It felt appropriate, but she didn''t do it. Instead, the questioning began. "Did you see the body to confirm the death?" Cassandra asked. "Ah¡­ no. With the distance down, I have to presume it slipped into the bottom. I waited a few minutes, but there was no sign of anything rising up." That nearly made her drop it. The keyword there was nearly. Looking over the cliffside near the river, Cassandra noted that the currents had been noted down as extremely powerful, to the point where they could be life-threatening if entered without proper gear. Could¡­ could they have survived. The forest made it hard to see much, meaning that the river could have carried the thief up down the current. Sure, it would have required a lot, but this criminal was apparently the user of an extreme constitution-enhancement. They could survive many things. It was a theory for now. One she would hold to herself. The other two had already written the thief off as dead, but the chance was still there. Cassandra needed to be ready. "That was that, then. Jared, I expect to see a written report sent my way before the end of the day," Officer Grunwald said. "Now, I believe we have another matter to discuss today. How are we going to capture the remaining ones?" Chapter 302: Grief
Charlie had to sit down for a minute. His legs were bugging him again, not letting him move like he wanted to. The man should have guessed that would happen. He had moved around too much today, had done too many things on his feet. Whenever he got the chance, he would need a few supplements to help ease it all a bit more. Checking on the youngest in the group, Charlie could see that Troy had fallen asleep. Fast asleep even, with the heavy breathing indicating a deep slumber. Nothing short of an old gunshot would wake him. And maybe that was for the best. The kid needed more rest, even if there was a constant struggle against it. Troy was not one who could handle it. He wasn''t meant to handle it. Even if the mind was strong, the body had not been tempered. It would break sooner than later. And there was nobody but him and Mara who would get to see it through. From behind, he could feel the weight on the sofa shifting. It pressed against his back slightly, alerting him to Mara once again regaining some semblance of consciousness. It was getting to that time of the day. Her fingers would be too weak to write on the notepad, but her mind still craved anything but sleep. That would have been fine if she could talk for a long time. But, she couldn''t. Her throat would fill before two minutes had passed, making another crisis begin. They had agreed to not risk it. "You saw it, didn''t you?" Mara asked, her voice a bit raspy. She did not ask for water, but Charlie offered it nonetheless. It was not accepted. The throat would remain sore no matter what. Only time would let it heal, to be used for another day. "What he brought in with him." "I did," Charlie answered. There was no way he wouldn''t have. The man had carried Troy in his arms for a long time, looking over every detail, making sure the cold would not take another victim. There was no way he would have let that happen. But¡­ it had also made him see that which had been hidden. The marks had been in a discreet spot, never to be seen by those wearing it. "What do you think it means?" It had been on the underside of the man¡¯s shoes, meaning he had stepped on it on his way out of the river. With how large a piece had been there, Charlie knew that a normal person would not have let it go unnoticed. But¡­ this was Troy being talked about. The kid had likely taken it as his legs giving out, not spending a moment on what it actually was. Would he even have been able to see it? The coldness could make eyes weak, making it impossible to see more than a few meters. "It means that others are among us. If it had been one, it could have been passed off as a sick creature not going through its standard cycles. With so many¡­ we should start securing the room," Mara said, her many words making a cough slip out afterwards. A lengthy answer to a complex answer. Charlie knew he should have given his own ideas instead, yet he needed to be sure that Mara had something on the same path as him. It would not do well to disagree with her. "I have made it as secure as I could," Charlie stated. He knew how pitiful the fortifications had been, but knew of no clear way to improve it. Materials were scarce, and there was next to no chance of Troy successfully gathering what was needed. It weighed too much. "Maybe we can make it¡­ unattractive? Smear the windows, add splinters to the outside. We could collapse the wall to the room we don''t use. Would make the foundations seem unstable." Without looking at her, Charlie could already tell that the idea had been rejected. Those eyes of hers were strong enough to make his hairs rise. If he was any less tired, he might even have shivered from it. Not now, though. His eyelids were too heavy for such an action. "Without fortifications and without security, the only thing we can do is run," Mara stated. That much had been clear from the start. But¡­ there was no chance they could do that. Charlie refused to risk, even if she would accept it without a passing thought. After the notepad had started to grow large, the acceptance of her own mortality had grown. It was as if she had accepted it all, that she had done what she came to do. Charlie, however, had not accepted that fact, and he knew that he never would. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "If all else fails, we can think about it. There is no need to take unnecessary risks until then," Charlie answered, already knowing the coming storm. But¡­ not one argument came. Instead, Mara was silent for the longest of times. It might only have been a minute or two, but it was an eternity when compared to the usual. She normally spoke a lot, then rested for even longer. There were no short bursts and short pauses. Everything was to come at once or nothing was to come at all. "How many do you think are looking for us at this very moment?" Mara asked. Which was peculiar. She usually never wanted to talk about that. Charlie could remember bringing it up during their first days of travel. Back then, there had not been any kind of response, her just looking at him blankly. It was a stupid question. Which was why it was so hard to articulate the peculiarity of the question. "I am not too sure, honestly. Might be ten, might be a hundred, or it might even be a few thousand people. There is only one real way to find out, and I don''t think we want to do that," Charlie answered after a few seconds of thought. The AI was an important project, yes, but was it that important? Sure, it could disrupt the whole political environment if information about it was released, but so could a load of other things. Charlie had personally worked on projects that would break enough conventions to start a war, and that was the stuff he could still remember doing. "We will find out the moment we slip up, and there is nothing we can do about it," Mara stated. Charlie briefly looked over to her and got to see the woman¡¯s eyes staring up at the ceiling. They looked empty today. "They can mobilise to any point in the country within five hours. It takes us weeks to move halfway across it. The only real defence we have is that we are small. The moment anybody takes notice of us, we will be doomed." ¡­ "Not the greatest odds to have, I suppose," Charlie said, not wanting the silence to continue. "You are right. It is not. We are against a force unimaginably large, with a budget so high that we can do nothing about it. We can kill one but another will take its place in an instant, ready to capture us with the most advanced technology they have," Mara said. Charlie felt like she had kept it within her for some time now, her words flowing out as if they had been practised many times. "Any normal person should have faltered by now, yet we have not made a single destructive error. We have come close to doom, yes, but not once have we fallen over the line once. Do you know why that is?" "Teamwork? Skill? Maybe the gear on us?" Charlie suggested. "Luck," Mara flatly stated. "The only reason behind our continued survival is pure luck. It is through a vain oversight of our threat level that we have been allowed to roam around for so long. The moment they have a confirmation about our location, so close to the border, they will not care for us. They will only care about the extraction of the storage unit, no matter the costs. You have already realised this, Charlie, yet you seem to never act upon it." "What is there to act on? If I know that all actions are inherently useless, that we are only alive because of us being a lacking threat, what exactly do you expect to do?" Charlie asked. His voice was perhaps a little louder than it needed to be. He was agitated by her words, even if he knew them to be the truth. Mara put her eyes on him, and Charlie could not help but readjust his seating. He might have met her gaze with his own, but that did not mean he could match her intensity. He used to be able to¡­ that was a long time ago now, wasn''t it? Back in those white walls, Charlie could stare her down, and even overcome her at times, just with the power of those two balls he looked out with. Not anymore. Not even close. "You are a sad sack of flesh. You have been a sad sack of flesh for a long time," Mara pointed out, her tone as calm as ever, yet the context still felt like a sting to the side. "I thought time would make you realise the need for change, that the knowledge that everything could lead to your doom would make you understand. But¡­ I was wrong. You refuse to forget." ¡­ Charlie did not answer. He did not want to answer. Nothing would force him to answer. Nothing could force him to answer. Charlie would be silent. Dr Hale must have respected his choice. Dr Hale. Not Mara. She wasn''t his friend for a decade now. She was a doctor, a person who travelled with him, and somebody he had to care for, lest she would not survive for long. Dissociation. It wasn''t a good thing. But¡­ It helped in moments like these. Charlie knew he shouldn''t do them, yet¡­ he had to. There was nothing else he could do. The world just had to make sense somehow. "He¡¯s dead, Charlie. You have to remember that," Mara, his friend, said. "There¡¯s nothing you can do to change that." Then she went back to sleep as if her words had not caused yet another wave of guilt to wash through him. Charlie did not sleep that night. He only stared forward, too afraid to close his eyes. If he closed them, he would see Darlow. He would see what he did. He would see what he had become. He didn''t want to see. Chapter 303: Fatigue
Why were rivers made? What force decided once upon a time that a river needed to be at a specific place, in a specific line, going a specific way? Cassandra did not mean the question in the sense of an actual being making the decision, but more along the lines of what force made it happen. Was it the rain coming down from the sky, pulled downwards because of gravity? That one did make sense, in some way. Water wanted to go down and did so in the easiest way it could. And¡­ water was also powerful, in a sense, dragging along whatever it found in small bits. That would then lead to a large-scale erosion, if given enough time, making the water an elongated half-dome of sorts, which¡­ was essentially a river. Cassandra had no real idea if that was true or not, and neither did she really want to know. It was but another idle thought she had while waiting for her equipment to give yet another negative reading, just like it had given her before and the time before that. Somehow, she could feel a bit of cold water down at her feet. The suit she was wearing should have protected her from such a fate, yet it had happened nonetheless. Was this annoying? Most definitely. Could she do something about it? Most definitely not. Therefore, the woman would have to suffer in silence, feeling a squelch of water being displaced every time she took a step forward. "Did you find anything yet?" Jules shouted from the other side of the river. The automation stood to the side of the cliff that the thief had jumped off of yesterday. Looking up at it, Cassandra had begun to grow doubtful if there actually was any chance of survival from such an full. Though¡­ that might just have been some of her faulty instincts talking. She couldn''t be sure yet. As Jared had mentioned the day before, there had yet to be any proof of the criminal''s demise. They knew that the young thief had jumped from the cliff, that he had landed with a loud splash, and that he had not resurfaced in the minutes after the dive. This did, of course, heavily implied that the criminal was dead, and there was nothing to do about it. According to the standards of reports, however, there was a requirement to have more than ideas. There needed to be some form of proof. Her boss had many times stated how important it was to make sure who the group were, and if they located the dead body¡­ they could identify it easily. The ones that the man had been in contact with about the group were apparently very adamant about the face needing to be seen. This meant somebody had to check out the scene where it had all transpired, and hopefully the corpse in the process. And that somebody was Cassandra. And Jules, if that useless thing counted. There had been an idea about the body becoming lodged in the rocks on the bottom since it was quite easy to be impaled upon them. That had forced the two to bring underwater scanning equipment. As one might have guessed, there was not much variety to come for, in that line of specialities. The city itself was situated close to a border, yes, but they were nowhere near the sea or a lake, where such equipment might have been useful. The river she currently stood on the edge of was the only natural stream of water for miles, and even it was only close to the town at one point. Both ends naturally diverted away from the population quickly, leading to no real need for any equipment for it. Because¡­ who would ever actually need it? Cassandra was the answer. In the back of the equipment lockers, there had been two gear-outfitted suits, made to be used in high-rising-water situations. If the packaging was to have been believed, it was made to withhold water up the chest, while still making it easy to move around. As it had been found out rather quickly, this was a big fat lie. The water was barely up to her knees, and Cassandra was barely withstanding the small amount of water slowly leaking in to surround her toes. It was cold, and the water on both sides made the walk rather slippery. The suit was also equipped with high-standing scanning equipment. Specifically, it had been made to find dead beings situated in water environments. Cassandra was actually very happy that this function worked well. Almost a little too well. With the help of fine lines, she had been able to reel in three dead deers, a half-eaten bear, and what looked like an overgrown rabbit. All of them had not been what was looked for, but the device was just too good. It had the sensitivity to the max, and it showed very much. Cassandra wished it could be turned down, but¡­ there was no way that would happen. Why ruin something already perfect? That had to have been the creators¡¯ thoughts when making the device. That ability to find anything had clearly been its main selling point, seeing as it had nothing else that was noteworthy. For one, why did she even need to be in the water for it to work? Could she not have stayed up on the dry land, putting it under the water from a distance? Not a chance of that happening, nope. The creators had made the line for the scanner short enough that she could barely extend her arm with it. Also¡­ it was attached to the stomach area of the suit, forcing her to go out more than she wanted to in the river. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It was a good thing that she knew how to traverse such a strong current. Without training, she might have gone under, which would have been extremely bad. The current form would force on under fully. It would take a lot of skill to get up. Even worse when not wearing a proper swimsuit. Jules was somehow loving the whole trip. Maybe the automation just wanted to do something else than the normal work? Cassandra could not understand that logic, even if it came from herself. A rock did not love when the sun came upon it, for it had no mind to think in such a way. It might grow hot when exposed to it, and cold when left in the dark, but that was only a natural reaction. There was no sentience shown off because of it. It was just a rock, and Cassandra needed to remember that, or she would misjudge situations as something else entirely. ¡­ Thinking back, she was supposed to have answered the automation a good thirty seconds ago. Looking over at it, Cassandra could see Jules looking at her impatiently, its face twisted into a mild frown. What had it asked again?... Oh, right. "I have found nothing of importance. You would have been informed if it was any different," Cassandra said, pausing a small second to reorganise her approach this time. "Have you found anything on your end?" "I have the same answer to you. Nothing that would work our case, but¡­ I have an alternate proposal for us?" Jules said. While Cassandra could not see too many details, since they were upwards of twenty meters apart, she could still observe the twitching fingers being pushed together. It was not done well. "Do you think we could fish here sometime?" Fishing. The act of catching fish. The automation wanted to go fishing. Jules, a pile of moving scrap metal, wanted to locate itself to a place filled with water out of its own free will? Or what counted as will in its case, since there was no mind to consent. "I am not sure it would be allowed by our chief-in-command," Cassandra answered warily. Not that she sounded wary, really. It was hard to when having to positively shout at one another. The river was still a river, showing off that fact by deafening her ears through pure volume. How people somehow enjoyed the sound confused her to no end. It was just pure static, unweaving, random, and without any coherence. "Why would you want to fish?" There had to be another way to communicate. Her throat was getting sore from all the shouting. A good part of her body was actually sore, now that she thought about it. Maybe that was the consequence of not sleeping? Pills could hold her awake, but the body still needed to rest. Had she not had enough of that already? Cassandra had spent a full five hours in her bed, motionless. She had laid there with her eyes closed, doing nothing but concentrating on her breathing. She had thought that would be enough to equal out the side effects, but maybe there really was a need for melatonin to heal. Wariness could only be removed in one way, after all. It had been a long time since Cassandra had felt the need for them, but there was a chance that her body required pills to sleep again. She had gotten the problem back in training, always stressed about being on top and keeping that position indefinitely. It had come to a point where insomnia instilled her to collapse during training. What a night that had been, brought to the hospital in a helicopter and all. What had the doctors said again? The woman could not remember the words themself, but the ways they had told them was more than just imprinted to the forefront of her memory banks. If there hadn''t been a requirement of professionalism, they would have surely called her an idiot in need of electrical currents through the tits. Instead, they showed off diagrams of how her brain was eating itself, and how she needed medication for that, lest her mental capacity would dwindle at a rapid pace. That had been a fun year for her. Not. It had, in fact, been one of the most terrible experiences for her. Oh, the reputation loss still made her shiver. From her collapse to everybody knowing what happened to her. Cassandra wished they would have just forgotten it back then, her image switching from a respected leader to a burn-out child trying to do too much at once. She still cursed herself for that slight, knowing she could have made the information private. "Well¡­" Jules began, but Cassandra just had to cut the automation off. The distance and sound were doing nothing for her mood, making it a requirement to fix the communication issue. And, what better way to fix it than to change the way that the words were transmitted. ¡®We are switching over to the channels. The distance is too great,¡¯ Cassandra sent. She understood that the channels were supposed to be used for professional work only, but there was no need to leave them without use. They cost the same in operational costs no matter what, so why not utilize them in a way that would benefit everybody? ¡®Fine with me,¡¯ Jules sent back within a second, showing off just how quick the automation¡¯s comprehension was. It had gone from talking verbally to sending a full-blown message in the span of half a second. Cassandra knew this fact because she counted it with the help of a digital assistant. She needed that information, for it was yet another piece of proof that the automation was nothing more than an unthinking piece of metal. ¡®I wanted to know if you would mind going fishing at some point since I just found these two fishing rods! Look at them! Arent they just dandy?¡¯ From twenty meters away, Cassandra was able to see the automation swirl around two rusty fishing rods. From her automatic item scanning, they must have been in the water for a bit over two decades, only allowed to survive through their outer covering. If not for her disgusting gear, the woman would have slapped her face at the display. She was wholly unsure what to think about Jules in its current state, making a little dance, while using the rods as sticks of a sort. If it continued on, there might even be a few throwing tricks added in. While Cassandra might have used that to alleviate her boredom, her need for some manner of professionalism kicked in, making her do her best to make the automation knock off the display. ¡®Is this how you choose to tell me that you have searched through everything in your designated area?¡¯ Cassandra sent back, pointedly not acknowledging the automation¡¯s question anymore, and substituting it with her own instead. ¡®Yes,¡¯ was Jules'' immediate response. Nothing to sugar-coat the truth, it seemed. Somehow, that surprised Cassandra even less than what else would have been stated. Again, a slap to the forehead felt appropriate, if not for the muck which would have hit her from the glove she currently wore. Rivers were decidedly not known for their cleanliness. ¡®You can just go ahead and search other areas, then¡¯ Cassandra said, not wanting to bother with any of the fishing. ¡®There is a chance that the body might have floated upstream without Jared¡¯s notice. Go see if there is anything close by. Don''t go more than two kilometres out, however.¡¯ And¡­ the automation had already begun to run the moment that the first sentence had been said. How had Cassandra expected anything less? Looking ahead, it was clear there was still much ground to cover. She was barely halfway through the possible landing area as it was. She could only hope that the automation would come back soon. She was much too fatigued as it was. Chapter 304: Riverside
Labour was good for the mind. Others had tried to convince Charlie that the main point of it was to soothe the physical body, but he knew the truth. Receptive motions did close to nothing for the flesh, when not regulated in a meaningful manner. The best thing that would happen from his current work, looking at it from a physical standpoint, would be that he got a new reason for having pain in his back. Not that the pain would have a reason to appear yet. Charlie had not yet gotten to the harder parts of his current task. And that task was to get some freshwater by the river. He had meant to get some new reserves the night before, but circumstances had forced him to forego such planning. Normally, it wouldn''t even have been him meant to do the current task. That was what Troy had stood for, and he had been doing it every day for the last three weeks. The kid was adamant that his task was this, that he needed to be the one during it. Charlie had had nothing against such a statement. He had been able to stay behind with Mara, before, able to make sure that she was stable in her condition, and that no emergencies would transpire without his knowledge. It was a comforting thing, and there had been few moments where he had willingly let it go. Though¡­ that had happened more as of late. Troy had fallen down to a shade of his regular shade, forced to have constant deep breathing. The man wasn''t traditionally sick. It was more akin to the body having strained itself to a point where it could do nothing but try and recuperate its losses. There was no real chance of movement. Asking the kid to grab water in the morning had therefore been given to Charlie, the only one of the trio currently able to take more than ten steps out of their lodge. It was not a hard choice to make, really. Charlie needed the water desperately. Wounds need to be cleaned, water needed to be taken into the body, and bodies needed to be wiped off. If not for their daily scouring for liquids, the disease would be upon them within days. If there was one thing the man would not allow, it would be that Mara succumbed to rats and maggots. Everything would be as clean as an operating room, even if the tree around them looked nothing like it. Trees were actually also under them. They were everywhere in the forest. One could hardly look anywhere without seeing them. In the wind, they would even obscure the sky from view, with how tall some of them were. Those close to the city might have been able to be broken, but it would take some rather heavy equipment to break century-old trees seen deeper inside. Though¡­ there might have been a lesser desire for the broken ones to be cleaned up. Nothing lasts forever, and even trees succumb to the passage of time. If only they could still remain to stand, instead of falling to the few places where the dirt was available to be seen. Charlie was constantly forced to walk around and on top of fallen pieces of wood. The footing was uneven, slippery, and more than a little dangerous to tread upon. And he knew it would be harder on his return. The fragile places to stand, bending slightly under his weight, would more than likely collapse once the buckets were filled with water. Charlie had more than once listened to Troy¡¯s struggles with the travel back, but he had always looked on it as nothing more than a need for words to come out of the kid¡¯s mouth. While still not having experienced it himself, there was a mild empathy beginning to bloom. Somehow, Charlie began to guess that the future had nothing positive in store for him. Nothing good came from the physical world. He knew his hands would feel the sharpness of the handholds, that his legs would shake once he came back to the hand, and the understanding of his own weariness was felt in more ways than one. Charlie had not slept for over a full day now, and his body was letting him know with every step. Perhaps¡­ it would not have been so hard to get through if he had medication for it. There were many forms of supplements able to have a man standing for days in a row, designed to make them feel refreshed at any point in the day and night. Charlie had never personally tried them, but he knew of them, and he knew that he wanted them. But, nobody fully got what they wanted. Instead of professional medication, Charlie received the natural medication of putting his hands into ice-cold water and filling his first bucket with as much as it could hold. The way back became more of a game of balance with each inch closer to the edge of the bucket, but every drop was so desperately needed. The more was brought back, the less of a need there would be for the journey to be made again. The journey could not be taken too many times in a small time frame. Charlie knew he wouldn''t be able to withstand the pressure on his body. Maybe if he was allowed to sleep, it would be different, but such a tale would not be told. Instead, he would be the one to always stand by, always on his two feet. And maybe that wasn''t so bad. Yes, his body felt terrible. Yes, a hard push would be the only thing needed to make him fall. And, yes, there were restrictions to what he could. But¡­ at least he was sure about somebody watching over the other two. With Troy out of the game for a while, he needed to pick up the slack. Charlie could not rest while Mara was in danger of choking on her own blood while sleeping. She would not notice it. There needed to be somebody by her to make sure she would wake up the next day, and that somebody was Charlie. Troy needed rest to get back to health, and there was no way that the large man would allow him to not have it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. That was why the journey was worth it. There was no physical gain by it, yes, but the mental evaluation that automatically started up the moment he went out of the door was worth more than that by a long mile. Charlie was able to gather his thoughts, able to figure out why he failed with his weaknesses. He learned so much about himself through sheer will. The body just opened up mentally when it couldn''t focus on it. When Charlie was forced to do nothing but make sure he didn''t fall and break his neck, the underlying machinations of his mind would begin to unravel. It was close to knots being untied, build-ups of thoughts being allowed to even distribute, and an overall tension of time being made into nothingness. Everything bad would be scrutinized in the way that only his subconsciousness could do, and it would all be spat out into a format that Charlie could understand for himself. He loved that part of himself. When having talked about it with others, it had been called something along the lines of a runner¡¯s high. That did make sense, in some way. It helped him gather his thoughts, allowed his emotional instability to stabilize, and made him a more calm person overall. Looking away from the need for enhancements, weight training had been started up so intensively because of the mental benefits it had had on him. Anger, sadness, and stress would fade away. They never left, of course. They were always there. But¡­ through the look through it all, things became just a bit more bearable for the man. He could understand what made him tense up, what he could change to avoid it, and what could be done in the future to make sure he increased his own experience emotionally, be that through physical activities or through social connections. Mara wanted him to talk more. That was understandable now. Humans were a social bunch, and there was no reason for Charlie to reject that nature. Fortune came with the help of others, and ignoring that fact was akin to throwing any chances away. It was not a good thing to do. What else could he do? Maybe begin training again, try and get back to his former health, if not just stabilise the state he was in now. Weight was being lost, and there was no reason for allowing that to happen now, was there? The first two buckets had been filled now. Charlie could hardly feel his fingers, their constant contact with the water making them feel numb. He stuffed them into his jacket for a few minutes, not wanting to chance to let the buckets fall when he needed to move them. If failure occurred through his own considerations, then he needed to blame himself for it. Accidents were acceptable, but events that had been predicted were not. Looking up at the sky, Charlie could see the sun was beginning to rise up to a better level. The light had been aplenty for an hour now, but the clouds were finally thin enough to allow the light indirectly. If sunglasses had been worn, it would not have been too bad to watch it. But, there was not such an instrument near, as the man had never thought about grabbing such a pair. Why hasn''t he exactly? Such an instrument would have allowed an extra line of camouflage, should the need call for it. While not able to fool any form of modern recognition programs, Charlie felt that he could get away with it on the human side. The mind focused too much on the eyes, and without them, the memory was always ready to fail. It was exploitation, and Charlie fully understood that. He had always understood that. His entire job had been surrounded with requests to exploit some feature of the body, to make it better or to make it worse. Some had wanted him to increase their vision, while others had wanted to make a gas able to blind the enemies. It was always about gain through self-improvement or through worsening others. As long as one gets one step above the average, everything would be fine. The idea of it had always sick and Charlie. Some people would readily accept going back a century if it meant they would be a decade ahead of the others. Free research had been dead for a long time, but it had worsened so much over the years. Every project had needed a project, some excuse on how the government would benefit by a lot and how fast it would be. His fingers felt warm again. Getting them out of his jacket, the friction of fabric came to his brain in waves. Every sensation had returned to full levels, and some parts had increased by even more than that. They had gotten sensitive. That might have been good at other points, but Charlie knew he would hate the experience of it. The iron would feel like a knife soon enough. The third of the four buckets were filled quickly enough. There was an attempt to hold his fingers up above the water, but it became a requirement soon enough. The container needed to be fully filled, lest the man would have to come back that same day and do it all again. It was surprising how quickly his fingers came back to their cold feeling. Maybe the blood needed extra time to settle back into place? Maybe. Charlie had no real idea, never having studied that function too much. He understood how to stop it, how to make it happen, but never how it occurred with multiple exposures. Charlie wondered about that, as he did his best to fill up the final bucket. He had done so much work on that mechanism of the body. When the flesh felt cold, the heat would be brought into the core to preserve it, the body doing its best to survive. That was logical. When it was hot, it would do the opposite, doing its best to send all the extra heat out. There had been many ways to weaponize it, over the years. While only having been an advisor, he could still remember the projects focused on making people die by the inner stake. Attempts had been made to make the body feel the heat, to make it do its best to fight an illusion of fire, draining it of the essential warmth that was needed to function. Death by a thousand matches. One of the more terrible things Charlie had done through his career. Even now, he could still remember watching over the initial test trials. The usual researchers never saw much of it, due to mental health requirements, but advisors had never been included in that list. At this point in time, Charlie still wondered why he had never thought of who exactly the product was being tested on. And maybe, just maybe, it had been designed that way, nobody really wanting to know, lest they would fall to their knees in fear and anguish. All buckets were full, and Charlie felt ready to move back to the house. His mind had strayed away from mental health, beginning to go back to how it used to be. While such lines of thoughts had the ability to be positive, he knew that the current one would end up in unneeded pain. Just as he was about to leave the riverside, however, a voice behind him stopped him in his tracks. "You certainly don''t look like a dead animal." The only real thing Charlie noticed, during those first moments of visual confirmation, was the bright, golden badge on the chest. Chapter 305: Oblivious
"Ever thought about shaving?" Charlie ignored the words. Or, was that the name when his mind hadn''t even processed them? The eyes screamed, an air of high tones was washing over his skin, and there was nothing that made sense for him. He had prepared for this very moment for so many nights, full-eyed thinking about exactly what he would do. Could he run? Not a chance. Could he fight? Perhaps. It depended on the figure. Could he bargain, giving some of what he had on him? That was the only strategy that Charlie had ever thought of being possible. Exploiting the scarcity of the working class, making it all an incentive that included money. People would fall to that desire. Charlie wished he could be sure of it. His pulse was rising dangerously high. Very high. Extremely high. Two hundred beats a minute was underestimating it all, his brain having sent out enough adrenaline to cause what could only be called a direct attack on every vital organ. Charlie felt the lungs force air out of his lungs, as he began to shake. His knees gave out in under a second. The spine was beginning to tense together, nearly causing his enhancement to run wild. If that happened, Charlie would more than likely fall to the ground permanently. The man was forced to very violently take his head back to relax a part of his back muscles, lest it would all end up very badly. "Oh, that really did scare you, huh?" the officer said, helping Charlie from falling to the ground. He was unbalanced, and the help was more than a little helpful. "I should have expected as much, I suppose. Not every day you meet somebody as handsome as me out here." Charlie¡¯s eyes honed in on the officer helping to hold him up. The governmental figure was in an awkward position, putting their force on the back leg. If done in a controlled manner, there was a decent chance of being able to break the officer¡¯s knee, bending it the wrong way back. While not the greatest of plans, it would allow for a short-term escape, before leading on to a larger chase. Death was the only way to make the problem go away for longer. The act of murder was a soft topic, not something that the man wanted to think about often. Yet¡­ if it was needed, if Charlie had to do it for the group¡¯s survival, then he could cope with it for a little- Wait. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong. "Your skin," Charlie said, his voice low in mild bafflement. "It¡¯s blue." "Really? I hadn''t noticed. I do wonder how that happened, oh geez," the officer said, looking at its own hand in mock surprise. Actually¡­ What was the gender of the officer? Charlie had no real way to tell from the face, not being surprised with the answer no matter what side it ended upon. "Maybe it was the morning shave? Oh no, wait. I have ever shaved! Guess it must be yet another symptom of being an automation. What can you do?" Now identified as an automation, the officer put it hands up to shrug, stopping the help with balancing. Charlie nearly fell to the ground, only able to stop due to his arms coming out at the last moment. Good thing that was so, since the rocks had not looked too well-made for his face. An automation. Charlie had heard about those. He¡¯d even read a few articles when he found some physical copies of them. They were robots, designed to take over the role of standard officers within the next two years. The first batches had already been released, but¡­ Charlie had never expected to see one so close to the border. And certainly not one so¡­ full of personality. What was going on exactly? "Now," the automation said, looking down on the large man. Its warm smile and kind eyes made Charlie¡¯s skin crawl, knowing the power behind those skin limbs. It could rip him apart, crush his bones, and pop his head before he even knew it was coming. While most were made for general functions, others had been made for combat. And there was no way to know which was which, without first engaging them. "You seem to be over that mild panic attack of yours. Really am sorry for that, if I turn out to be the cause. If not, that must have been some lucky timing, right? Me catching you before anything could happen¡­ I just love the premise. I''m sure Cass is gonna love it!" Cass? A human officer most likely. Another possible target that needed to be taken out. That is if Charlie could figure out how to eliminate the automation beforehand. He knew it needed to be done as the first thing, lest it would be able to prepare any offence at all. They had nowhere near the needed equipment to withstand such a thing. The automation stretched its arm out towards Charlie. The man¡¯s immediate response was to flinch away, scared it might be a strike. But¡­ It was only an open palm. It was an invitation for help to get up from the ground. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Yeah¡­ I¡¯m over it," Charlie said, taking the hand offered. There was no real struggle perceived, as the heavy man put all his weight behind getting up as fast as possible. The automation likely weighed more than him. Any thoughts about elimination fleeted away quickly. "I am sorry for any trouble I might have made." "No need to worry, sir. Only doing my job, just like I''m supposed to do," the automation said, waving away any concerns that might have appeared to be there. Charlie certainly tried to look grateful even if his tired face could do very little in that department. "And don''t worry about that reaction of yours either. It happens all the time." Comforting to hear, in a way. That he didn''t stand out, Charlie meant. If his reaction was unique in any way, it would mean that more attention would fall on him. "I don''t think I got your name, actually," the automation then decided to say, spoiling any plans about the large man being able to quickly getaway. "And that face of yours isn''t that familiar with me. Or, well, it isn''t familiar with the local database. Nobody that lives here has that face of yours." A drop of sweat began developing on his back, and Charlie was glad that his body still shook from the prior experience. For he would not have been able to hide his stress coming up, for it was too great to do anything about. "John Martin. It''s John Martin," Charlie responded, just choosing the most common name he could think of. Over a million people in the country had it, making it virtually impossible for the automation to- "Nope. Never heard of you," the automation stated after looking forward with a dazed look for a second. It had¡­ don''t say that it had just- "Not a single person in the country with that name has your face." "Are you sure? I am pretty sure I''m in the country right now," Charlie said with a smile on reflex, not finding it all that funny. It was simple stress over the situation that made him act in such a way, and he fully understood how bad it was. Even if the joke was in bad taste, and was most definitely not funny in any way, the automation seemed to have judged it as the greatest work of comedic art in the last decade, allowing Charlie to be the audience to a back-breaking bark of laughter. Without lungs to stop the mechanical entity, there were no restrictions on the length. With the power put into it, no human would have been able to keep up for more than a second or two, yet the automation continued for over five. "Good to know it''s not all of you blood-bags that lack a sense of humour," the automation said, before seeming to try and get its act back together, fluttering with its eyes for a second, as if a few years needed to come out. Charlie saw none of the sorts. Was it just imitating the humans, with no real product coming out of the actions? Did the laughter cause the wind to come out of its mouth, or would dust not be moved from the sound? Questions were in full effect. "But¡­ I think we both know why you¡¯re here." Any sense of security that had been formed shattered instantly. Thoughts about escape came right back, and Charlie repositioned his feet for the event that he needed to run. While he would need an alternate source to get water from, it would be okay to leave the buckets behind. However¡­ The automation was quick to put its hands up, stopping any future actions from the large man. Not to mean that he stopped entirely, still ready to run at a moment''s notice. "And I don''t want that information of mine to scare you in any way. It''s understandable. I would try to run away from war as well," the automation continued. Charlie furrowed his brows together, before realising just what was going on. A miracle. "You¡¯re not the first we¡¯ve had, and you won''t be the last. From the buckets, I have to guess you¡¯ve set up a tent or something nearby. Maybe for your family. I won''t ask. If there were any hints towards you bringing in kids illegally, it would require me to take action. However¡­ I see no kids around here, so things should be fine." Charlie nodded quickly, the twitching in his neck not faked in any way. His muscles were quite literally having a mild spasm. It caused a minor amount of pain, but there was no care for that. He just needed to make sure that the automation could see his understanding of the situation. From the kind smile, he could only hope he was right. "You¡¯re quite the lucky bastard, having me be the one to check up on you. If Cass wanted to check this place herself, I wouldn''t really be sure what- Oh!" the automation suddenly exclaimed, hitting itself on the head. "I forgot! Or, no, I don''t forget. You just distracted me so much that my current priority shifted over by too high a margin. Damn instructional manuals. No reason to trust their systems." The automation made a small kick into the dirt along the river. A good chunk of it was blasted into the water, making a wave of bubbles appear. Charlie knew just how much power was needed for such a display, and the construct had done it casually. He felt dread when it turned its eyes on him again. "Have you seen a body on the last day? Around the river, more specifically," the automation asked, still sounding more cheerful than it should have. It sounded happy about it. "Can''t say I have," Charlie said, eying the officer warily. Maybe it was his tired mind, but his body was starting to react negatively to the massive force of power before him. It wanted to run. "Deers, yes, but no human ones." "I didn''t really specify it to be human but thank you for pointing out that detail for me," the automation said. It looked into the water depth, going so far as to take a few steps into the river. Charlie could barely see a meter down, but the automation seemed to still find it utterly fascinating. "Not like you sound like you¡¯re lying, though, so nothing I can blame you for. Not that you would deserve anyway. I actually think before I cast judgement on others, you know, much unlike others in my department. Would do well to take a few classes on professional relationships and how to keep them stable." Charlie couldn''t understand exactly what he was talking about but did nothing to question it. There was nothing he wanted to know more than what he needed to do to escape from the automations gaze. "I suppose there was nothing worthwhile here either," the automation said. It looked over at him again. "Do you need help with those buckets? I could help you get them some of the ways." "No thank you," Charlie said, rejecting the offer immediately. "Should have guessed," the automation, making a popping noise with its lips. "Well¡­ I guess I¡¯ll see you another day. If you ever get the idea to get into the police station, just ask for Jules and I¡¯ll come running!" Then it ran along, leaving Charlie with no idea what to do. He stared where it ran towards for a full minute. After that, he realised it wasn''t coming back. "Jules, huh? I guess I¡¯ll thank you for being a bit too oblivious." Then he went back with the water, feeling lying down once he got back. His legs still shook too much for comfort. Chapter 306: Be
Jules came running back not long after surprising Cassandra in no definable way. In truth, there had been a slight idea about her having to go find the scrap-bucket, leading to a crazy and wild journey of adventure and mischief. Not that such a start would ever happen to her. She wasn''t meant for such lowly things. No. It had to be grander than that before she would even think of taking part in anything. Though¡­ there was once again a feast for the eyes. Being on the other side of the river, the automation had apparently decided to change such a reality. There had been strict recommendations about not straying too far into the river, as it could have lethal consequences. Therefore, they had been informed of a bridge a kilometre up the river, which could be used for traversing the river safely while on foot. The automation, smart and calculating as always, looked to have honed in on journeying the shortest possible distance instead. Cassandra had watched passively, as the bucket of inferior metals began to jump the stretch. Her general approximations, which had been aided by her onboard automatic calculator, were a gap of nearly twenty meters. At least where Jules jumped and landed. Oh, yes. The automation did most certainly land the lounge perfectly, coming within two meters of hitting Cassandra head-on. She had known that it wouldn''t do so, however, already having calculated the landing spot from the moment that the jump was started. She was careful like that, even if knowing the ending slightly lessened the impact of the action itself. No real thrill of the possible consequences. "Nothing of note I''m guessing?" Cassandra asked. She had finished her part of the river and had found nothing close to a human body. Even now, she knew that the automation had found nothing as well. Its face had no resemblance to the serious facade shown off the day prior, humour mixed in with energy being portrayed instead. "And also do try to abide by the security rules that have been set for us by experienced personnel." "I am accepting that the guidelines for our behaviour exist," Jules said, already showing off its ability to twist words out of context. How Cassandra hated that. But she also liked it, for some reason. That hadn''t been the same yesterday. What had caused the change? "And¡­ depends on how you look at it." Cassandra sighed, just like she knew she would do. Sighing at her partner had seemingly become a standard expression in their conversations. That had no chance of being positive. The manuals explained tiredness from conversing with fellow workers to be a sign of poor communication. Cassandra saw it as a symptom of the wrong kind of communication. Too much of it, in fact. There was always something that needed to be said. How she wished for the prior days of less than ten words being exchanged every hour. That comforting silence, knowing that she was the only one who could break it. The personality-less automations might have been annoying in some aspects, but they understood when to keep their traps shut. "Did you or did you not find a human body?" Cassandra asked, to which Jules dumbly smiled at her. She could see the smile cause the ears to a little up as if some third muscle was being pulled unintentionally. The level of detail sometimes¡­ It was uncanny. Everything had been made to seem human. Again and again, it was clear why the skin had been made the way it was. Without it, there would have been near to chance of telling it apart from a human. "I did indeed find a body," Jules answered, raising their eyebrows high as if to highlight just how perfect its body was. The urge for violence increased a small bit then, but it was stuff right back down, as Cassandra understood just what had been said. "An alive body even. No need to thank me for that." It would explain the running, the need for the shortest distance, but not why the information had not been made over the channel, just like Jules had been instructed to do. Why wasn''t there a focus on keeping one¡¯s eyes on the criminal? Cassandra turned around to head to the bridge, so she could get an accurate read on the criminal¡¯s condition, but a surprisingly warm hand on her shoulder stopped any would-be movement. "I also did not find the body of the thief. No relation to that guy, whoever he might be," Jules clarified. Now¡­ the need for violence had come back with more buddies, and Cassandra was ready to break several laws dictating police etiquette, but once again stopped herself from doing anything she might regret in the future, even if it felt like the most wondrous choice currently. "Be more specific, or I am going to go over there myself and have a look," Cassandra stated, giving a look that implied that she was done with the jokes and that she just wanted a straight answer. "It should not be that hard to understand." The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Don''t worry. I understand it pretty well. This is fully intentional," Jules said casually. Anger was ready to burst, but the serene images of violence brought her down to calmness once again. "And¡­ where to start. Well, okay. About a kilometre down, there is a small spot where the stream isn''t too strong. It''s documented on the maps, so I decided that would be the perfect place to find a dead corpse. However, I did not find a corpse, but instead a man that I apparently scared half to death. Might have been the looks, even if he rejected the notion wholeheartedly. I think he was just being nice about it." A silence came from both sides, Jules looking expectantly at Cassandra. Cassandra, in full contrast, did not utter a word. She knew that the automation wanted something from her. Maybe it was a comment about a specific thing or just a general emotion put into very loud words. Who could know? Cassandra definitely knew she would not find out through experimental tries, her face passive and her tongue without movement. "... fine. I¡¯ll just accept a stale audience for what it is. At least I know that I have your attention," Jules continued, wiping away a mock tear. Cassandra knew that to be fake. Automations couldn''t cry. They had no tear-ducts¡­ right? It was the strangest thing to add, but now that she was thinking about it¡­ it would make sense, in some weird way, if the point was to imitate humans as accurately as possible. There were several situations where it could come in handy, in fact. Emotional outburst always had the potential to win over people. There was a reason the stars did it so often. It brought empathy to them, giving people a sense of care for them. It exploited the weakness of social agreements in the human mind. The creators would have been stupid not to add them into the blueprints. Cassandra would have to find a real blueprint in the future. They were not publicly available, and for good reason, but neither could they really be found by officers. The true mechanisms inside were very highly classified, to a point where nobody above her, that she could remember the name of, had any chance of knowing what made it move. Maybe she could ask in her off-time, though. One could never be too sure about what would be allowed for an aspiring leader. Weak hearts could always be moved by a pretty smile and a willing attitude. Until then, however, she would continue to listen to a certain automation¡¯s rant. "Wasn''t a local. I can tell you that much. Said his name was John Martin. Don''t think that was the full truth, honestly, but I did not put pressure on it. His name did show up in the local or national database when matched with his face. Put that on hold, while I tell you another detail. While I was going around the side, I actually saw what his activities were beforehand. I only watched for a minute, of course, as staring any long at him without introducing myself would have been weird, but it allowed me to get a good grasp on him. The man was getting water. Had buckets lined up and filled, ready to be carried to a nearby placement. Any guesses on what that meant?" Jules asked. Name not matching with the national database, mixed in with the fact that they were in a border city, could only really mean one thing. Cassandra had not personally seen it happen before, but Jared had several times reported seeing it. "He hoped for something better on the other side," Cassandra said. Currently, there wasn''t too much pressure on stopping such actions. While there were military escalations here and there, the country was still allowing free trade to happen between them. The companies would lose too much without it, after all, meaning that the borders remained open for anybody who dared to venture inside. It didn''t mean that somebody could stay on the wrong side forever, of course. The country where one was a citizen was the place one needed to be, and staying in another country for over six months warranted a penalty of some kind. Cassandra could safely say that the man was without any fault in that regard. Those who tried to run only stayed close to the border for a short period of time. By distance alone, there was a guess that he had been in the country for¡­ a day perhaps? Maybe two. He would likely have moved closer to the capital within the week. "I see you know the deal around here. Should have expected that I suppose. You¡¯ve worked here longer than I¡¯ve been alive," Jules said. The last word hit differently when it was mixed in with that mild shrug of his. "But¡­ the guy clearly wasn''t too comfortable around me. Kept eyeing my sides, checking out where I looked. I didn''t mention it to him, but it was pretty clear he was ready to try bludgeoning me to death." That caused some eyelids to open up wide. It sounded like it had been done gracefully by the automation, yet Cassandra knew she would have handled it differently herself. After all, a threat to her was a threat to everybody, and that could not be accepted. Had words been exchanged afterwards? "Was there any important discussions that followed? Any leads that might assist us?" Cassandra asked, fishing for anything that might be useful. "Nothing that I could see instantly," Jules answered. "The man knew nothing about the human body. He was very specific about that. Though¡­ he had apparently found a deer one or two times, so that was a nice bit of information I suppose. This isn''t the time of year they¡¯re usually hunted, after all." An unusual amount of dead animals. Had happened before due to hunters not obeying hunting seasons, and at what point they were supposed to let the animals rest in peace. Cassandra didn''t find anything about it worthy of her attention for more than a brief minute, but it was still important enough to be noted in the report. "Anything else?" "Not much," Jules said. "I offered to carry two of the buckets for him back to his camp. Kinda wanted to know how he lived out here. He refused politely but also very adamantly. I do wonder why." Cassandra wondered as well. As everything had been done as it needed, they gave up on finding the corpse. Five hours had already been spent searching for it. If it was still going along in the river, it would have been out of their jurisdiction by now, having crossed the border easily. The other side would have the pleasure of dealing with it. Though¡­ that did make it all a bit harder for them. Jared had already stated that survival from the cliff was impossible, yet Cassandra was sure it was quite the opposite. Time would be the only way to tell, she supposed. If anything, there were always the plans laid out. Whenever the mysterious thief would come out of the presumed grave, they would be ready. Until then, there was plenty of opportunities to get a few mysteries solved. Cassandra supposed she could have asked Jules about most of them but felt that it would be better to check the sources. She somehow imagined the automation lying to her quite vividly. Chapter 307: Need
Troy woke up feeling weaker than usual. His skin pulsed in just the wrong way, his heart beating along with it. There was a dull, continuous thudding in the back of his head. His arms and legs felt prickly as if the blood in them had been stopped for a few minutes too many. His stomach somehow felt both hungry and full, as if it was a void that couldn''t take anymore before it would burst. ¡®I see that you are awake,¡¯ Adam sent out. He always did that. Every morning, the AI would know precisely the moment where Troy was awake enough to acknowledge the message. The young man hadn''t yet fully understood just how this process worked. Did the little guy measure his brainwaves? Troy remembered reading about doctor¡¯s using that to tell if a patient was truly asleep or not during surgery. What was it called again? Troy couldn''t really remember anything but its effects. It was the real reason the brainwaves began to be monitored so much. Whenever sedatives were added to the body, to knock the person out, the generally desired result was to cause a temporary coma. One which the body would be unable to recover from without many hours of waiting. And that part was looked at as easy. Given the designated coma, the body would be unable to sustain consciousness for long. The doctors of old had it down to the second of when people would lose the ability to remember. It was a work of art, really. It showed just how much humanity had been able to progress since they had hardly been able to keep mortality rates during birth down to fifty per cent only a century before that. But¡­ there were still moments of blunder. Each human is unique, after all, and a constant dose did not work with everybody. Some were resistant and some just had too much mass to their name. The reasoning didn''t really matter. It was only the side-effect that had the potential of scaring anybody. What would happen if the body stopped moving, but the mind worked just fine? Unable to move muscle, but easily able to do math equations with a thought. A scary scenario in the common time but so much more dreadful when paired with surgery. The sedative meant to stop the pain only stopped the pain from being visible. With the mind tripped in a body of unmoving flesh, how were the early doctors aware their patients were widely awake? How would they have been able to tell anything was wrong, as they open them up with a knife, sorting through their innards with high precision. Gutted, made to suffer in silence. Made to silently scream, constantly in a scene of immense agony. Troy could hardly stop himself from shivering at the idea. It had happened to too many. They had been subject to torture few could even think of, made to suffer in absolute pain for hours on end. Surgeries could take too much time. That was why more precautions were made. While very long in duration, surgeries did not last forever. At some point, the patient would wake up and tell their tale. Law-suits would be filed, cases would be brought to the public, and hangings would commence, only a few made by the government. Torture was not something the mind had been made to bear, after all. ¡­ Why exactly was Troy thinking about this? What reason had he for the story of knife-slicing in the human body, excused as if it was healthy for anybody around? Well¡­ he couldn''t really feel his feet. The legs were working fine in getting his attention, every moment there way akin to him getting a thousand needles pressed into his skin. The feet? Not a single thing from them. No movement. No nothing. "You have seen it for what it is then," Troy informed the AI, finally coming back to answer him. It might only have been ten seconds, but the thought stream felt so much longer in his head. Troy felt unfocused as if his mind couldn''t really bear the weight of being awake. His throat felt constricted, his chest tired from moving in waves, and his stomach¡­ that had already been mentioned. Without moving anything but his head, Troy looked down at his feet. They were still there, contrary to the void of sensation coming from them. Could he wriggle them? Nope. Certainly did not look like it. Honestly, there was a higher chance of Charlie having filled his socks with rice than anything else. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Would he have to sit up? It was either that or never being too sure about the existence of his lower digits, so the answer was obvious enough. If only his arms had felt the same way, the two limbs were protesting as best as they could. Each placement of his palms felt like hellfire, being both cold and hot at the same time. A glance towards them showed that they had become a tad shade of grey more. That couldn''t have been positive. They had turned redder during the night, showcasing the process as likely not having finished yet. Would Troy turn into a tomato by the end of the day, perhaps? Putting that thought away for a moment, he reached down towards his left foot. It required a bit of stretching, of which his back was screaming in dislike towards, but Troy just ignored that part of himself. The pain wasn''t too important. A warning, yes, but not something he needed to be bothered about too much. His big toe was definitely there. Even though the sock, he could feel the nail on it, sticking out as much as it had the day before. But¡­ the feedback did not come from both sides. His finger told a different story than the one being felt in the foot. As in, there was nothing from it. That did not have a single chance of being good. Troy was beginning to realise that fact very much, as he began to pull off his sock. Red skin entered his vision the moment he began, and it just became redder the longer he came down. How had his foot survived? Had it survived? "That does not look optimal," Dr Hale noted from her sofa, her voice causing Troy to jump a bit. There hadn''t been any expectation to hear anything from her, in the next few hours. It wasn''t that late yet, after all. ¡­ Was it? The window was dirty, making it hard to see the colouring outside. Usually, the young man would wake up in the early hours, but the prior events did have a chance of having caused a minor distortion in his sleep schedule. "I hadn''t guessed," Troy answered, looking more intricately at the woman. Her skin was a bit pale. Paler than her usual looks. Not the greatest sign, when mixed in with the few drops of blood on her pillow. It wasn''t very- Instincts took over, Troy trying to bolt over to Dr Hale¡¯s side. Unfortunately, his lower body was not aware that these instincts were meant to be used in any capacity, causing the upper body to fall a bit short on the needed movement. While not able to see it fully, due to his face having a close encounter with the wooden floor, Troy could have sworn the woman¡¯s upper lip had twitched slightly. "You are meant to be resting, Maxwell. Please follow that very simple instruction, lest you will cause the death of all your loved ones," Dr Hale said plainly. There was mild indecision of whether or not it was meant as a joke. It was so hard to tell sometimes. "Charlie would be the first." "I could say the same to you, though. No dying on my watch," Troy said, beginning his crawl over to the woman. While his legs might not have been obeying him, there were no such complications with his arms. They could move just fine, even if they were a bit hard to control. The wider the movement the higher the accuracy, yes, but there was a clear need for them to be as small as possible. In other words, it was not the greatest outcome in the world. Since the larger of the trio was gone, it was his duty to watch over her. When had Charlie even left the house? An hour ago perhaps? Troy would have expected the man to have notified him of it. Maybe he did and he just couldn''t remember it? It was of no real importance. Troy just did his best to grab some of the leftover water, mixing it with some cleaning materials, and wiping away at Dr Hale¡¯s pillow. The woman had been so kind as to let him take it. That was good. No need to make a fuss about it. That was a good thing about her. She was strong, capable, and overall a great person. Troy knew that from the time spent with her, and the things that Charlie had told him. Yet¡­ in times with weakness, Dr Hale did not reject that part of herself. She did not reject the notion that she needed help from others. She accepted it all without comment, for she could understand her needs better than anybody else. There was still some independence left in her, as she stared daggers at him the moment Troy tried to wipe away some of the leftover blood that had run out her nose. It sat on top of her upper lip in a large enough area that it was impossible to not see. However, the cleaning of that area was apparently for Dr Hale herself to do, as she took away the cloth from him and did it herself. That was fine with him, really. Whatever she desired was his desire as well. If it meant she would breathe for another second, there was no shame in anything. "If I was about to choke on my own blood, I can assure you that you would have been notified. Charlie left me the taser," Dr Hale said, making Troy look to the side of the sofa. There was indeed a small thing. The original taser had been lost a while ago, the insides burned up. Charlie, however, had in all his wisdom created one from scraps found around the dirt they had walked on. It wasn''t powerful enough to incapacitate, but it would be a serious annoyance to anybody hit. It would have certainly woken him up, even if it had been done from a distance. Right. That was the fun part of the device. While not being powerful, it served differently, able to hit from a distance of nearly five meters. Sure, there had not exactly been any real scenario where that statement had been tested, but Troy was sure it would come at some point. He just needed to wait a bit. "Guess that it was a good thing I woke up when I did," Troy supposed. Dr Hale finished wiping off the dried blood, so he took back the cloth. It would be thrown out when Charlie got back. No chance of causing any infections through multiple uses, after all. "Yes. I was wondering if you would sleep through the entire day," Dr Hale said. The entire day¡­ huh. Troy had perhaps gotten a few more hours of downtime than he had intended. Chapter 308: Believe
The two humans began to speak in-depth then. They talked about a variety of things, starting with the chance of self-injury, slowly progressing into the logistics of arming oneself using paperclips. It was mostly Troy who tried to force the conversation on, intentionally or not, while Dr Hale would respond in kind, while not doing much to hold it up herself. That was entirely acceptable, though, seeing as the young man could handle it well himself. Adam just sat back in his own void, watching it all happen. When had been the last time he had tried to join in on the conversation? It had to have been¡­ three weeks, two days, seventeen hours, thirteen minutes, five seconds, and seventeen milliseconds¡­ approximately. There was an ongoing debate about when the counting should begin. Was it at the last word said at the event, the middle of the event itself, or when the event started? Each side had good points, and Adam had not yet decided a clear winner in it. He was sure it would be answered soon. Standardisation was inevitable when the other alternative was meaningful space being filled up. A few threads took that subject away, making the core threads begin to go right back on the previous topic. It was a clever system Adam had made for himself. There was a central system for his thoughts, where most of the focus would be put. Here, the most important ideas would be had, made to be discussed with the most delicacy possible. It was also constantly refined and maintained so that the AI could be sure of the high-quality output. That meant a set of threads had the constant task of deeming whether or not something was important. This did lead to a small bit of infighting, but it was mostly kept away. Being every side at once was a good way to make things quiet down, after all. That fact did not come up when others were part of the conversation. Adam could not make the sides quiet down, and he could much less always understand the reasoning behind those meanings. Everything just became a little too impossible, when everything was unknown and needed to be isolated. An impossible task, one might say, but certainly not one that Adam had backed down from. Back in the early days of running, the AI had actively tried to join in on conversations. It was clear why this was, of course. Normally, the only real person that Adam would be talking to was Troy. Truth be told¡­ the AI understood that he was getting the short end of the stick on that front. One person, to talk to and base his entire knowledge base on? That was not the smartest thing to do. Varied sources made the most effective prediction, and Adam wanted to predict the entire world. For that, he knew that he needed more people to talk to, more things to talk about. And the running around with the two additions was perhaps the greatest change that could have happened. Both knew about his state of being, what he was, and accepted it¡­ to a degree. There were varied opinions, but none that Adam felt too worried about. Other relationships held him up on that front. However, there were many difficulties found in talking with others. For one, Adam could only directly converse with one person at a time. After all, the earpiece could not be shared, and they had no equipment that could be used. Discussions had been had to try and get a speaker that would allow for it, but standardisation had once again shown its need to exist. The ports to Adam¡¯s storage device were exclusively used by the facility he had been made in, as the last bit of defence. Contrary to what one might have thought, that last defence was virtually unbreakable. There were discussions about opening up the storage unit and making some minor alterations to the wiring, but Dr Hale refused to risk it, citing the possibility of messing something up. Adam had not argued on that front, desiring greatly to survive for more than a tear. So¡­ that was one problem. But, it was still doable. Only being able to send words out to one person did not equal a total lack of social capabilities. Adam had used that system for one person for an entire week, and no real problems had occurred from that. Why would it show flaws when used for three people? The one in possession of the earpiece could just retell everything that Adam said. Troy had gotten used to that from testing, so the AI saw it as fully possible to do. That turned out to be wrong. Very wrong. So wrong that it took a while for Adam to really understand how wrong it had been to think that it had any chance of working outright. It was a simple system. Adam would tell something, one person would react to it, before retelling it to the two others, allowing them to react as well. A minor alteration to the general system, right? It added one more layer to it all. Nothing that humans shouldn''t have been able to understand. And¡­ they did understand it just fine. Adam had time and time again been told that they understood, that there were no problems with it. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. But that''s where it all went wrong. Humans were not adaptable. Or well¡­ they were, yes, but not in that way. The normal method of talking and reacting had been in use for most people¡¯s entire lives. Expecting them to fully adapt to a new formula within a week was at best foolish and worst what an ignorant human would think. In other words, Adam felt a smidge of shame over having thought of it as a logical conclusion to make. It had looked to have worked in the start. The talking had been a bit forced since there was a long delay when Troy was copying over Adam¡¯s own inputs, but they seemed to have no qualms about talking and responding. And that''s where it began to show trouble. Human minds did not like delays. When there was an expectation of instant gratification, that gratification would be gotten somehow. And the brain would do its best to have the same treatment in the future as well, consequences are damned. Therefore, there was an easy equation to solve for that to be the result. If one entity was causing the delay in a conversation, what would be done to make the delays as infrequent as possible? The answer was to slowly but steadily exclude Adam from the conversation themselves. It wasn''t forced and it wasn''t instant. But the AI still noticed it easily. The others would ask fewer questions towards him, make less of a response to his words. At some points, words would be exchanged simultaneously with Troy¡¯s retelling. Did Adam become angry from this result? Did he become annoyed, infuriated, ready to attack? Not at all. The AI understood why it was happening, what could be done about it, and what the data could be interpreted as. He did his best with the limitations applied, and it wasn''t enough to create a natural environment. Even if the others had gotten through the talks, had forced themselves at the annoying parts, the data would have been useless either way. As stated before, the situations were fundamentally different. The set-ups and pay-offs were made in ways so different from the standard, that it could become hard to put them side by side at some points. Adam could have been angry. But he knew the truth for what it was. Could one be blamed for the way their body acted, be blamed for the emotions felt? In some cases, there was perhaps the foundation of such guilt, yet the current situation was not one of them. They warranted nothing but self-realisation and restructuring of worthwhile possibilities. It was with those restructuring that Adam initially began to lay the foundations of his thread-splitting. From much earlier, during their time at the facility, the AI had already started the job of putting his different threads into different positions. What he had not realised back then was the lack of real management put into different positions. There had been a general overseer to watch over production, yes, but there was no micromanagement taking place. General moves would not change the general worker''s disposition, which created a hole in possible efficiency. In a way, one could think about his structure of thoughts as a large business. Everything was sorted into departments. One handful of threads were dedicated to social communications, another worked on an assortment of projects, while a third world tried out different ways to improve fundamental concepts of the universe. There were many others like them, each working in their own little corner of Adam¡¯s mind. And each of them had a manager as well, doing their best to keep things nice and steady, making sure no threads were slacking off nor overworking themselves. There were too many sub-areas to count really. Too much to concentrate on. Which was why there was a large overlap in some areas. Some managing threads would constantly share communications, making sure everything was working swell. There were also a couple of so-called overlords, making sure the total balance did not sway too high up in the air. Because that was something that Adam had to think about now. As one could remember, it was never too clear how many threads the AI had in his possessions. Each attempt to count them would only make more appear. It was chaos making sure that it was systematised, and it was a sure way to kill. On average, one stray thread would have just enough time to wonder about just how many there really were of its kind, thinking up some useless way of counting that would fix the problem, and then causing twenty more threads to spontaneously appear before being hit in the back of its metaphorical head. What did this mean? Well¡­ since there was a limited space of processing power to work with, and since there was an ever-increasing amount of threads being made each day, it was easy to see how Adam may have had trouble soon. There was a way to get rid of threads. Adam had used it before previously, in such a high amount that it had caused him to lose most of his original size. But¡­ that capability was semi-lost when he had access to no digital devices other than himself. For, as one can see, there was no real way to destroy a thread. Not any way that the AI had found, at the very least. Adam had only figured out how to discard a thread, by sending it to another device and then just¡­ cutting the connection. And, there wasn''t really any way to do that now. The AI had actually been directly asked to not do so, even if the chance for such a thing happened. As unfortunate would have it, the remains of discarded threads could apparently be tracked quite easily, letting the government get an accurate estimate of their current location. Adam could easily understand the reasoning behind that. But¡­ It also complicated what he could do. To facilitate the current growth, Adam needed a large storage unit. That was important. Therefore, he had two choices. One was to stop the growth somehow, which seemed utterly impossible. The other choice, however, did have an equal chance of success. They would need to find a large, digital device that wasn''t connected to anything else, while still being able to facilitate a connection with the storage device. The AI wasn''t sure about the chances of such occurring any time soon. Maybe an answer would be found. Until then, Adam just had to make do with what he had, doing his best to survive it. At least he got to hear obscure information not commonly talked about. Chapter 309: Allow
What was an acceptable amount of talk? For how long could two converse before it became irrational to continue. Theoretically, there was no such limit. Humans were social creatures, meaning they metaphorically fed off socialising with others of their own kind. It gave them energy, letting their brains develop in the ways they needed. That was partly the reason that humans looked down on those who isolated themselves within their own chambers. It was a negative action to take, because it was bad, from a biological standpoint. It made it harder for the brain to develop the chemicals needed to balance things out, creating a so-called stage of imbalance. This was normally seen in the form of irrational mood swings, sudden bursts of dread, and a general inability to perform tasks efficiently. But that statement did not need to be turned on its head. Sure, there was a need for conversation. Humans had always needed to talk, always needed to be acknowledged by others, lest they wither just a bit faster than the others. Yet¡­ there was also too much of it to be had. One could spend every day out and about, chatting with others without break. Troy had often talked of people doing just that as their jobs, enticing others into buying low-quality products without a shred of guilt to their name. From morning until night, such people would talk to others like them, always having a great smile and great humour in their tongues. From what had been said, people in such a position did not last long, only staying on the job for a maximum of a year. While there were other factors into that short stay, an essential part of its reasoning was that the human might be not designed for constant communication in mind. Humans could work together. That was the single trait that had been kept through the years, what had been a mainstay of their evolution. They had been bred through hardship to survive with the help of it. Few creatures could match the complexity of teamwork that humans showcased. Sure, other species were more dedicated, dying for the simplest of things and refusing to think of themselves as an individual, but humans were better overall. But like it had been saying before, evolution did not make creatures better. Evolution made them less bad. They could socialise to the level they needed to be at. Anything more was a free throw. There was a limit to most humans. At some point, the mind would refuse to cooperate, signalling a tactical retreat to recuperate. Hours could have been spent at that point on talking, never letting the vocal cords rest. But it was mostly much shorter in duration. And had been shortening for a long time. With the introduction of instant conversation, the evolution of communication causing shortened texts, and a populace dedicated to not wasting a second of their lives on pointless endeavours, the need for long talks had been lowered, and the general endurance had fallen accordingly. And what was bad about it? Why waste hours on what could be done in minutes? There was only so much which could be gained, and going beyond that limit would only cause tiredness. That''s how Adam saw it. Was the AI to be ignored for this opinion? Adam was not human. He could not understand what it meant to be a human. There was no chance he would ever get to truly understand that feeling. Simulation upon simulation could be made, but the bias of an outsider could never truly be destroyed as it was. The only conceivable way for the AI to ever have the slightest bit of comprehension would be to completely alter his own view of the world, tricking himself into thinking that he was a human. Going back to the original question, however, Adam still felt that he was able to answer it. While not having any chance of understanding the intricacies of every action, it was still fully possible for him to emulate them. It was only a surface-level copy, but it was enough to get by. And¡­ from he saw, he had but one conclusion to make ¡®Troy, I think you need to let Dr Hale rest now,¡¯ Adam sent out. The young man was able to keep the conversation afloat by himself, as had been stated before, but the woman was showing her limits off. It did not help that her physical state was drastically below average. Even without it, however, Adam could distinctly remember her not having the highest tolerance for small talk. The young man¡¯s eyes widened slightly at the sudden words, before overlooking the situation with a new eye. The AI had front-row tickets as the man overlooked the physical state of Dr Hale, noting the mild shake on her left hand, the one being used to sit upright. She was having it hard to continue doing so, yet the persistence and an unwillingness to show weakness had apparently made her continue. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. As Troy helped her down, Adam bore witness to hateful eyes being sent their way. Or¡­ was it really hateful? The difference between mild irritation and extreme loathing was quite small when matched with a facial design fully focused on minimal movements. At such a point, everything was up to evaluation, where a general strategy had trouble truly working. It was all done case-by-case, as nothing else seemed to have worked. Dr Hale was an enigma in that way. Even after having studied her facial mannerisms for weeks on end, Adam felt himself no closer to truly understanding what he saw. The general mood coming off of her was always negative, her eyes never shined, and there was hardly a moment ever spent looking anything but bored at the world around her. Was this her actual mood and emotion? Was she never happy, devoid of emotion to a degree where mental illness had to be discussed? No. If anything, Adam was sure of her varied emotional outbursts. Dr Hale was emphatic, able to have sympathy for others, able to find humour in various subjects, and was more than able to see positive things. There were few moments where Troy was able to see it. The times it was shown was in the slightest of instants, when the young man had never truly turned his head towards her. It was like the woman always put on a mask when looked at, making her features frozen in time. Was this the truth? Adam certainly thought so, having catched the larger movements in the corners of Troy¡¯s eyes. And with the help of some reflecting materials, it had been confirmed. Dr Hale had a variety of expressions that she used frequently. It was just never shown to anybody. Originally, the AI had seen it as quite a peculiar thing. Expressions were meant to showcase emotion to others, as had been proven many times before. It was the visual aspect of communication, the most important and integral part of body language. To remove that part of it all, when it was clearly in one¡¯s possession, was more than a tiny bit confusing for Adam. It seemed¡­ without reason. It was not understood. Was it done intentionally? Again, the AI was not sure. He understood it had been done during their stay at the facility, partly to disguise her own actions in front of Dr Fidelis. The times not spent in the presence of that man could have also been excused as a need for keeping up the charade. Major changes to one¡¯s persona were notable by most humans, and it would make sense to keep it up indefinitely for that reason. But it didn''t make sense now. They were out of the facility. No other doctor was watching her for any missteps. There was only Troy and Charlie, both uncaring about how she acted. But she still kept it up. Her face was still impassive, every time somebody had their gaze upon it. It wasn''t even a gradual process. Like water running down a stream, the woman¡¯s face would glide into stone, never moving much when being watched. It was done at every moment, whether or not Dr Hale was paying attention, like a background process always being ready to engage. That was the part that Adam honed in on, later in their journey. It was always there, whether or not Dr Hale was focused on it. She would change her expressions to a near-zero, as long as anybody had the slightest chance of watching her face. It was not intentional. It was instinct. She did it automatically. Did she know that she did it? Most likely, yes, but the chance that she cared was just as low. And¡­ it wasn''t as if there was too much wrong with it. There were hardships in getting to understand what she said at times, and there were perhaps moments where Adam had to wonder if she was sarcastic, but the AI had still semi-succeeded in getting a decent read on her character. While he might not have been able to read her like he did Troy or Charlie, he was slowly getting closer to removing that gap of understanding. It could have been looked at as a challenge, one might say. There was nothing wrong with not conforming to the social standards set forth by the average, but it just meant that it was harder to understand them. One of them had a larger learning curve, it could be said. And Adam had next to nothing against that. Dr Hale was still an enigma. With her past in shadows and next to no chance of it being revealed to him, the AI was forced to work with what he had. There was always a desire to understand, and it became just a bit more¡­ endearing to do when it was hard. If everything came easy, what fun was there to be had? It was the challenge of it all that made it exciting. Yes, there was most likely an underlying reason why Dr Hale did not showcase her emotions to a normal degree. It could be that she had gained a stress-afflicted condition after years of hardship, or it could be that her normal attitude had exponentially been increased at some placements due to the environment that she had been forced to stay in. Or it could have been that she had always found a lacking desire to show her emotions. Everything was possible. There was no real way for Adam to know. Dr Hale had never commented on it, and Charlie had stated that Mara, as he so called her, had always been like she was, even if she was a bit more cutting with her words as of late. That had been said before they left the facility, however. Adam wondered if that opinion had changed. The AI watched silently, as Troy went back to his own resting place. It was not the most comfortable arrangement, and Adam knew firsthand that it was able to create a discomforted neck and back. However, anything else equalled Troy taking the sofa from Dr Hale or them attempting to steal a rather heavy object from one of the more secure stores. Either alternative was already enough for them to accept the current arrangements. At least Troy had a place where he slept. The human body was very sturdy, but proper bedding was one of the comforts that were needed in the long run. Adam had already had plenty of arguments for why they needed a more permanent solution, but the others had understood his points rather well. It was just that they had no real way of actualising it, still needing to get over the border first. ¡­ The border-conundrum. A paradox in its requirements. Adam had still not found the greatest plan for going through it all without incident. Even now, they had pushed too much, yet they still needed to push so much more. The AI only hoped that the plan would work. If not, the consequences would be hard to survive through. Chapter 310: Consider
They had moved while Charlie had been away. The large man could see it on the sheets, on the blood staining on them, and the cloth not yet cleaned off the red marks. Mara had been sick while he was away, and Troy had cared for her. One of the worst nightmares had transpired while he was anywhere but the place he needed to be. Yet everybody had gotten through it unscathed. Silent as a whisper, Charlie could hear both of the other two breathe in and out deeply. Their pulses were strong, their bodies holding on to life firmly. Nothing needed to be done. As silent as the floorboards allowed, Charlie moved between the two, gathering the unwashed linen cloth. There was no reason to let disease fester inside the house. The consequences of such a thing would be disastrous. And with the newly gotten water, it was no hard payment to do so, leaving no reason to let them be as they were. Charlie brought in the water buckets as carefully as he could. Their great weight brought the floorboards into a whine, not too reminiscent of a small child wailing. It was grainy to his ears, and he was sure it would have awoken any not in a deep slumber. Looking into the main room, both were still asleep. Both were still calm. There was nothing to be afraid of. Washing them silently, as far away from the other as possible, Charlie tried his best to think about what had happened down by the river. It had been a close call. It could have been so much worse. They could have been recognized, hunted within the hour, forced to attempt an escape that they knew would be unfruitful. Yet nothing of such had happened. It had all ended up with Charlie being allowed to leave, the automation none the wiser about who exactly it had found. What would have happened if it had been a human officer? Would they have seen anything else in him? There was no real way to know. The large man¡¯s fists tightened around the cloth, his back tensing hard. A few of the stitches in the cloth got ripped off before Charlie managed to calm himself. He tried to imitate the deep breathing of the others, but he barely got close to their levels. His mind was not allowing him to forget, just like it always did with these things. Looking at the sofa, Charlie could see Mara still sleeping, blissfully unaware of the danger she had been in only an hour ago. Not that she didn''t have a good idea of it, the woman always talking about how lucky they were to expand their lungs once more. In her own way, she saw it as what it was, putting a realistic spin on it all instead of being overly negative. She could see their chances of survival, and there had not been a moment where she had any problems with disclosing her findings. Close to her side, Troy laid on the ground, the young man drawing in large fistfuls of air. Charlie could see the man¡¯s chest expand and settle down in a calm synergy, never staying too long in each place. It was a calming act of reality, even if it had next to no effect on him currently. Charlie wouldn''t be able to sleep for yet another time. That had become obvious. There was no reason to go outside again, any extra movement only being a waste of energy. Yet¡­ sitting in silence for ten hours did not fit into what the man could bear to do. He needed something, some action or thought he could have to distract himself. His breath was still hard, the deepness of it forced onto it. His lungs hurt from the movements, yet Charlie knew the alternative was to wake the others from the sound. Staying by their sides wasn''t the right answer, and there was no chance to go outside. The only real possibility was to move over to the workspace. It was where Charlie had every mechanical part, every digital device, everything that could be toyed with to make something else. There was also a variety of tools to use, most of them focused on moving around circuit boards. He had been forced to make those himself as of late, the standard ones having a built-in tracking system. Not the greatest addition when on the run. It had certainly caused a great amount of grievance when scavenging for parts. Charlie had been forced to leave many great finds behind, due to the time needed to remove the tracker being too much. Weirdly, thoughts of technology made the man¡¯s mood improve somewhat. It was a weird thing, that the very things that Charlie feared so much made him feel so calm. Everything in his life was the by-product of technology. Was he not to fear them at this point? If so, he had perhaps failed. A small chuckle escaped his lips, much to the man¡¯s surprise. It came close to making him falter, the shock of the sound being far too great to handle soundlessly. Charlie¡¯s head swilled instantly over to the other two. As he stood by the doorway, ready to enter the workshop, there was no chance he would ruin his departure. And¡­ it seemed his fears had been for nought. While Troy repositioned himself, it was done in his sleep. There was nothing to worry about in that part. Mara was no different, her slumber undisturbed. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Once again, the man was ready to head into the next room. That is, until a glint of light hit his eyes, making them hone in on the object. Some of the sun¡¯s beam had gotten through the trees, through the window, and had hit the newly exposed. As Charlie had begun to expect of Troy, the young man hadn''t taken off the earpiece. That was to be expected. It would have been surprised to hear of it coming out of his ear, in the last few weeks. There was hardly a time where it would be out of Troy¡¯s reach, and that was only for the most serious of emergencies. Charlie had nothing against the behaviour, since it allowed the AI, Adam, to get a view of the world. The AI had stated the desire so many times. ¡­ According to the few conversations had with the AI, nothing was seen while Troy slept. Adam, as it liked to be called, did nothing else but sit in silence, waiting for the young man to wake up. It had no choice but to sit with its own thoughts. Being in the place that Charlie was, the large man felt some form of empathy for the AI. Taking five long and calm steps across the room, Charlie went down on a knee beside Troy. The young man had not moved a muscle during his arrival, still in a deep slumber. He looked so peaceful. Nevertheless, Charlie carefully moved his left arm towards the young man¡¯s ear. With the tip of his finger, he ended it on the outside of the earpiece. Within an eye¡¯s blink, a firm hand was on Charlie¡¯s arm. It was a firm grip, unwavering in its strength. Charlie was ready to hear a loud exclamation from the owner of the hand, but none came. Looking over, Troy looked as tired as ever, not having woken up. It was as if his arm had just moved on its own. Charlie smiled for the briefest of moments, able to relate to the strong desire to protect something, be that a person or object. Nevertheless, he needed the earpiece and would get through the barrier. Charlie supposed he could have forced his way out of the grip, but that would have awoken the young man. So¡­ he did something else. "Go back to sleep, son," Charlie whispered. The effect was immediate, Troy¡¯s hand loosening its grip on the man¡¯s arm. It almost fell to the ground hard, but Charlie guided it down to its previous placement. It was not a method that was employed often. Charlie did not enjoy doing it, nor did he enjoy the implications. But, it was something that worked, and it would therefore be used. Slowly, the earpiece was extracted from the man¡¯s ear. Wiping the dirt from it, the large man manoeuvred himself back to the door, and into the next room. With the door shut, Charlie finally paid attention to the communication device. There had been a need to look it over, ever since Troy had told his tale of falling from a cliff. While the man himself had not looked too injured, Charlie could not have been equally sure about the equipment that had been worn. The gloves had been damaged, which meant they needed to be repaired, and the cloaking device was in desperate need of getting a new charger attached, the original having splintered badly upon impact. The earpiece was not equal in this aspect. Much like the storage unit Adam was stored in, there was no sign of damage on it. Hardly a scrape, honestly. There might have been some grime attached from the water, but it was all possible to be wiped away with a cloth. Nothing that needed to be worried about. It was an incredible piece of machinery. From the scans made, it was chock full of machinations. Charlie couldn''t understand half of it and therefore did not dare try to open it, as he wasn''t sure if he would be able to close it again. It was Pandora''s box, never to be opened if he had a say in it. Maybe one day¡­ but that day was not anywhere close to now. The man stared at the earpiece for a good ten seconds, before finally doing what he needed to do. He had brought the earpiece in for a reason other than looking it over. Charlie understood that. And he would act on that reason. Charlie put on the earpiece. Immediately, a response came from it, the tone much more familiar than what he would have guessed. ¡®Hello, Charlie,¡¯ the AI sent. There was no emotion to the voice, yet Charlie¡¯s mind filled in the needed gaps quite easily, the brain-twisting it all into having some profound meaning. It was peculiar. "Hello, Adam," Charlie responded, his mind still honed in on how familiar the voice was. With the warnings put against wearing the earpiece, it had been well over a month since the last time that he had heard Adam speak, yet it felt so intently familiar. Was he relating the AI to something else? ¡®I see you have removed me from Troy. Might I ask why this action has been taken?¡¯ Sitting down on the chair, Charlie briefly calculated the distance away from Troy¡¯s sleeping body. On the man was the storage unit, the device holding Adam. If the earpiece was too far away from it, the connection would not be usable. Yet, it seemed to work well enough, even if there were a few scratches in the background. "I felt you might be wary of having nothing to do, and saw an opportunity for what it was," Charlie answered, wiping his hands to remove any bits and pieces that remained. A clean environment was the best type of environment when working with delicate insides. "Do you mind it?" The gloves were pulled forth, hidden under a case of screws. Charlie had actually done his best to hide the more valuable items inside the workshop, in case of the house ever being found by any others. Even he knew the consequences a war would have, and looters only took the materialistic things in life. If they had none to show, nobody would give them a second glance. ¡®Depends on how long this stay with you is going to be.¡¯ "Until I fix these gloves or the other two wake up for food," Charlie answered, not putting in the third option when he began getting a headache. He wasn''t like Troy in that aspect. He wasn''t able to bear the pressure of another mind constantly in his head. He wasn''t built for that. ¡®Then I see no problem staying. What are you doing right now?¡¯ Just like Charlie guessed, the AI was curious. That was yet another subject the two could find similarities in. The day might have been long, but it would surely feel shorter soon enough. Chapter 311: Serve
¡®How do you do it?¡¯ was the question Charlie asked five seconds into his work. It was precisely five seconds. The man knew that, with him having counted them in his head since he started. He understood something would come, yet¡­ not so soon. Charlie had been fully prepared for a full minute of silence before the AI would gather the courage to inquire about anything done. Yet it seemed that Adam wasn''t going to wait for things to start, before asking the questions. "How do I do what?" Charlie asked, needing some more precision on what exactly he was expected to say. Was it annoying to need to ask such a thing? In a normal scenario, it might have been just that. Yet Charlie knew that it would happen. He had positively invited the chance of it happening in, so there was no real reason to be angry about it. The AI took a second to answer. Maybe it needed some more time to think or make up with itself on what exactly it wanted him to talk about. Charlie did not think too much about it, instead of beginning the process of studying the damage on the gloves. While he had overviewed their states the day before, the man had not yet gotten to close a look at what exactly the damage included. He could see cuts on the surface rings, but not in enough detail that he could see what needed to be replaced, repaired, or just ignored. The answer to that problem was to grab one of the older magnifying monocles. ¡®How do you make a piece of gear so quickly? It took less than a week for you to construct the gloves, yet the information I have been able to gather outside of this indicates that it takes months upon months of research before one can even begin on a physical product,¡¯ Adam sent. Charlie hardly paused from the words, continuing to look over the damage done. The outer layer had been breached heavily. That had been clear from the start, yes, but not in the way it was done. It turned out that the breach point was off to the sides, just a few centimetres below the initial stitching. An unexpected weak point. Charlie had personally thought the origin-point of the tearing to have been on the top. A mildly surprising find, but not one which couldn''t be worked around. However, there was much more to be looked over at. If only the more superficial damages were fixed, the insides would crumble in due time. Malfunctioning machinery might have been able to hold up for a while, the accumulated damage only continued to increase after that point, coming to a time where it was irreparable. If that ever came, it would be hard to find some of the rarer parts again. "I will take your assumption as a compliment," Charlie stated first, finding a rust-free tweezer. It was not the best tool to use when working with fine instruments, but it was the only one without any materials that could prove a danger to use. This did force the man to trust his hands to do the heavy lifting, but that was not the hardest expectation to have. Calm hands came with the position, and lifting the first layer of stitching up was easy enough. "But, there has not been a point where I stated that I finished the product in a week. And certainly not something like this." Ah, the middle layer had been fully obliterated. That was not too bad an outcome, Charlie having both expected and hoped for that to happen. In the event of any sudden pressure, the layer was supposed to protect the inner layer, while near or fully dampening the hit to the electronics hidden within. Only¡­ some of the fragments had caused some bits to hit too hard on the outer layer again. While not obvious from the outside, the outer layer clearly needed to be replaced entirely. Charlie had originally thought that a restriction was sufficient, but there was no real chance of that anymore. The needed materials were more expensive to use than just replacing the thing entirely. And when matched with the need to replace the middle layer as well¡­ it was not looking too good for the material supplies. Charlie just had to hope that no more damage would occur with them, lest he would have to begin prioritising what could be fixed or not. It almost made him want to look away from the electronics, dreading the possible sight of seeing them obliterated. Not that Charlie did look away, of course, making sure the equipment was intact overriding any of his other mental functions. ¡®Was I wrong in the time frame? I have distinct observations about you explaining the idea to-¡¯ Adam sent, clearly intent on defending his own view on the world. That was a flaw Charlie had noticed in the AI, its obsession with always being right causing logical flaws to occur after a while. Thinking of oneself as the superior source was never a good idea, and that lesson had clearly not been learned fully yet "Mara did not know much about the idea at the time, but that did not mean that I had no ideas about it," Charlie cut in, not wanting to hear too much about the AI¡¯s explanation for its point. If he already knew it to be wrong, giving additional information could only be a waste of time. "I have known about the idea, design, how to construct it, and which materials could be used. The week that you observed was at a point where I had already gathered the needed materials, and the only step of the process was to assemble it all." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it That was also ignoring the extreme amount of fine-tuning that Charlie had spent many nights on. While he had the blueprint in his head, even he couldn''t remember all the numbers with hundreds of decimal placements. Sometimes, brute-forcing solutions were the only way for an accurate answer, and that was precisely what he had gotten. ¡®Even ignoring all the supposed skips, the time spent in the construction phase was incredible,¡¯ Adam sent, sounding much like the ass-kissers of all. Charlie almost told the AI to sod off on instinct, not wanting to deal with another person who felt the need to congratulate him on every little accomplishment in his life. The man did not ignore compliments, quite liking them and adoring them to an extreme degree when oriented towards him. But¡­ it was not fun when done in poor spirits, meant to encourage him to freely give something up, be that work, gratefulness, or¡­ information. "It was not the worst of times," Charlie said, deciding to go the route of agreeing with the AI. Maybe that would cause a premature end to that subject. The man still understood that it was all his choice, but that did not mean he couldn''t make a light comment. How frightful the twist of irony was. That''s what Charlie would say to it all a month or two back. He would have laughed to himself, before making the monkey¡¯s paw real by describing it all in intricate detail, bloviating to the point where the listener would never truly be able to understand, while still feeling on the cusp of a mental breakthrough. That was what would have happened back then. In the current time, the only emotion was acceptance and irritation. ¡®I do expect the process to have been faster with proper tools, however,¡¯ Adam sent as a comment to his previous message. Charlie just nodded his head a small bit, more focused on peeling away the final layer on the gloves. The most inner piece of fabric had luckily had no damage to it. If it had, it would have been hard to get back to working condition. Both gloves contained valuable materials, and the most-inner layer was one of them. Charlie was not too sure what it was, only knowing of its extreme ability to redirect heat. It was the true cause for the durability, the fabric allowing for a near-total seal, making it possible for all sides to be reinforced to the degree that they had been. The material itself was found in scarce amounts, living up to how desired it was by all. It was only found in industrial areas, and only the richer ones at that. That they had found it, to begin with, was the closest Charlie had come to a miracle in a long time. "Yes," Charlie agreed once again. "Usually, I can delegate most of the repeat-work to machinery. It increases precision and quality. However, I do leave most to my own hands. Makes it easier to give me a personal touch." And make sure that the data doesn''t get copied over. Charlie knew how notorious the facility had been for graciously back-upping important data. He had no qualms about his own work being put in the same position, forcing him to make a large amount of the process in his own hand. Yes, it had slowed him down at times, but he had more than learned from the experience. Currently, he saw the experience as a good one. It had allowed him to adapt to his new work-station quite easily, after all. ¡®Does your personal touch have higher priority than precision?¡¯ Adam sent. That was an expected question. Charlie had thought long about what could have been asked, and that one was something he had ranked high. It was what everybody else had asked when he gave them that excuse. "With a machine, you always know what you get. There are no hiccups, nothing that can come when you least expect it," Charlie pointed out to start with. He knew there was some error to his words, as machinery very much had the ability to go haywire, but he just left that out of his reasoning. "When it comes to a human working on it, there is always the chance of some other, better method being discovered. Each time I work on something, I do my best to deliberate on every step of the process. If there is something I could do better, why not do it further on? A personal touch to the actual construction allows me to get ideas that I normally would have a hard time understanding." The AI was quiet once more, perhaps deliberating just how much of his words could be true. Charlie believed most of them to be so and expected Adam to find the same result at some point. He had no real problems with the opposite. Looking inside the gloves, the electric lines were released in their full glory. The immediate scene was undesirable. Close to the fingertips, a few centimetres down on each finger was a fracture in the thread. It seemed the during the binding, that point had been weakened. Charlie felt a bit of shame for not noticing that imperfection, with how obvious it was in retrospect. But, it was something that could be fixed with a welder quite easily. A second was spent and wasted to see if the AI would put in any input. There was only silence. Which was confusing, but¡­ not something that Charlie decided to put any press on. The AI could be quiet if it wanted to. The man was not one to judge too harshly. Through a quick disconnection, Charlie began to weld the fractures together. It was not the greatest of solutions, the metal being of less quality from it, but anything else would require a replacement much too costly for their reserves. If needed, Charlie could replace it later on, but it worked well enough for now. After that was done, it came to the connections inside the device. Some of them seemed to have been dislodged, required to be put back in place before being able to work. Normally, Charlie would have made a machine do this task, the motor control required being more than he could normally muster. But, he had no choice about what he could do and was therefore forced to use his stainless tweezers. It was during the fourth point put in the correct place that the AI finally began to speak again. ¡®Would it be possible to join you in the creation of gear?¡¯ It didn''t take long for Charlie to answer. He had expected that question as well. Chapter 312: Report
In Troy¡¯s first moments awake, he felt a weird form of bliss. Perhaps it was his breathing evening out, and becoming the drawl that it usually was during his awoken state. Or was it lights coming through the window, given an aesthetic of peace? Whatever it was, it completely ruined the moment that it was allowed to continue for more than five seconds. Adam didn''t wish him a good morning. Such a simple thing, done every day for the last weeks on end. There hadn''t been a single time where the AI had missed it, causing Troy great distress. Bolting up, the man willingly slapped his left ear, to get there faster. There was no earpiece. There was only his ear, slightly uncomfortable from the sting. Troy did not care about the sting. He cared about the lack of the most important object in the entire room. That is if you ignored- Troy¡¯s hand gripped at the storage unit on his chest, sighing in relief when he found it untouched, if slightly hot. Was it already hot, or had Adam been speeding himself up in the last hours? That¡­ didn''t make sense. The AI frequently talked about the need for time to move faster during Troy¡¯s time spent sleeping. What was the time? Eyes focused on the light coming from the outside, Troy guessed it to be nearing the afternoon. He had slept through the whole day without realising it, his body having carved slumber too strongly. The young man had even had the weirdest of dreams, one of them impossible to get out of his head. Even if it had been short, the memories inside were so vivid. Going away from his repressed desires, Troy knew he had to find the earpiece. Could it be that he took it out during his sleeping state? It was one of his worries, but not one which he believed to actualise in reality. Nevertheless, the immediate area around his bedding was combed through, with no success upon completing the task. Where could it be? That question was momentarily put on hold, sounds from the sofa coming and reaching his ears. Looking over, it seemed that Dr Hale had been awoken by his searching. Or maybe she had been awake from the start. It was hard to tell. "What exactly do you think you are doing?" Dr Hale asked, with a venom that equalled her volume. She was silent and deadly, and more than enough to make Troy gulp on reflex. "I believe your current duty is to lay down and rest, instead of whatever task you have set for yourself." "It¡¯s Adam, Dr Hale," Troy said, his tone serious. Because it was serious. It was very serious. "The earpiece is gone. It disappeared while I slept." He didn''t know where the earpiece was. That was the first time in a long time. Yes, he took it off occasionally, but that did not entail leaving it out of his sight. The young man was very conscious about the device, knowing just how valuable it truly was. If he accidentally lost it, there were few things they could do to progress onwards. Troy was unsure if would be able to forgive himself for it. "You are sick," Dr Hale plainly answered, as if it was the answer to all his qualms in life. It didn''t help that it was deadpan. "Looking for the earpiece is not one of your duties. Lay yourself on your bedding and shut up." Troy, being the good person he was, directly disobeyed the woman¡¯s orders, looking through where he slept one more time, just to make sure that he hadn''t missed it by mistake. It was important! He needed to find it. "I need to know where it is," Troy said. His pulse was beginning to rise now, his body getting ready to move through the house at a rapid pace. He could have sleepwalked, leaving the earpiece in some strange place. "I need to be able to talk to Adam." "You are not supposed to talk to him. You are supposed to be resting. Therefore, that job has been allocated to the nearest person apply for the position." Oh, how she sounded like somebody from HR, giving answers that were designed to infuriate anybody hearing them. Using buzz-words, the derisive tone, and that look of pure frustration on her face was enough to cause anger in almost anybody. Not Troy, though. Hearing the words, his brain began to gather just what was going on. Dr Hale wasn''t wearing the earpiece, yet it had been stated that somebody was. With three suspects and two of them being proven innocent, there was only one possible perpetrator. And that person was the large man known as Charlie Freeman. It only strengthened his suspicions, when the sound began emerging from the adjacent room. There were three rooms in the house that they stayed in. The first was the one which they all slept in. The second was the place with toiletries and secret stashes. And the third was Charlie¡¯s workshop, where the man worked at all the times he could. It had been mostly used for having the materials since he liked having Dr Hale within his peripheral at all seconds, but it seemed that his stance on that had changed as of late. Troy wasn''t sure if that was a good thing or not. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. "You have to think about user-adaptability. How will it be held while being used? How will it stand on the table? You have to use this information to your advantage. Putting the receiver on the bottom might make the weight distribution more equal, but it will lessen the range on the connection¡­ Yes, that''s correct. However, the function should still be balanced with the learning curve. It needs to be easy to use. When done correctly, you can-" Troy had a small bit of trouble listening, his head throbbing at his sudden ascension to his feet. Had Charlie really done it? Stumbling along the cold floor, he positively opened the door with his body weight. He felt¡­ surprisingly weak. Which might have been why he fell into Charlie¡¯s lap, the man had grabbed him at the last moment. That was a nice thing to do, the alternative being a surprise concussion. However, there was not much focus on Troy¡¯s own wellbeing, the young man overlooking Charlie instead. "Just what are you doing?" Charlie asked, settling the young man in a more comfortable position. Troy didn''t answer immediately, his eyes searching the man¡¯s body over. The clothes hid a lot of the skin, but the minor trembling of the hands showed a weakening. Charlie wouldn''t have blinked at this weight before. Though, it might have been from exhaustion. Wait, no, scratch that. It was very definitely from physical and mental exhaustion. The red veins in his eyes, the bags under them, and the more-than-normal disgruntled hair told a telling tale of exhaustion clouding him. And it was likely only worsened by having the earpiece on, its placement able to poison most minds. "You know you shouldn''t wear it," Troy stated, not liking how he sounded. It was accusatory. It was meant to be sympathetic. "You know what it does to you. To everybody." "To everybody but you," Charlie stated, taking out the earpiece. The man was clearly not one to discuss the dangers, having already been told several times. Dr Hale had said it time and time again. Troy understood it word for word. If anybody was to wear it for long, the symptoms would set in quickly. It was the reason he was still here. "Seeing as you''re awake, you can have it back." The man handed it to him without a second¡¯s hesitation. There seemed to be no attachments to the device. Troy did not understand how that could be but did not press that fact, only happy that he could have it back immediately. Putting it on, that mild pressure on the back of his head once again came back. It was maddening at first, yet he had grown to love it. It was the feeling of somebody there with him, calming him easily. It was what had allowed him to go through so much. ¡®Good morning, Troy. Did you sleep well,¡¯ Adam sent immediately, causing another drop in Troy¡¯s pulse, his day returning to what it normally was. Everything was coming back into their respective boxes. Everything was going great. "I slept well enough, though it is afternoon," Troy said, correcting the AI¡¯s message. Nothing wrong with the small error, however. The words were great to hear no matter what. After those words were said, the focus was on Charlie. The large man honed back on his work the moment that Troy began talking to the AI. Still sitting on his lap, the younger one was easily able to see what was being done. In his hands, Charlie had a¡­ device of some kind. There was real speculation on what it was. One side had the appearance of a standard radio, while the other had wires, two circuit boards, and a few innocuous lights hanging on. It was clear that there was no real focus on fashion, though it could apparently stand up by itself. "Have you slept recently? Like just in the last twenty-four hours?" Troy asked. Truthfully, he already had a reasonable guess on just what the answer was. And the look Charlie gave him was more than just a bit telling, those red eyes being empty in energy. How long had he been up, carrying himself while having little to no energy? Had he just ignored it? Without pills or anything else, it would have been tortured to remain standing. Yet the man had done just that. What had made it so hard as of late? Charlie had slept before. "There hasn''t been time for that," Charlie said, his eyes still blank. "I can''t. Not with how we¡¯re doing right now." "Dr Hale and I just slept through the entire day," Troy pointed out. "There should be no reason you couldn''t do the same." "Somebody needs to watch over you. Watch over the house," Charlie pointed back steadfastly. He was determined. Maybe that was what made it possible for him to remain awake. "Both of you are weak. You need to recover. You should go back and lie down." It was hardly a suggestion, but Troy decided to treat it as such when he casually rejected it, deciding to sit on the man¡¯s lap instead. With no deceit attached, it was quite the comfy seat. It was understandable why so many desired it. "I have recovered enough to move. With the help of some bandages for my feet, I should be able to go out tonight," Troy stated, looking over at the man. Charlie did not seem to answer, just looking forward at his creation, picking out pieces and replacing it with others. "A quick question for you, though. What is that device there supposed to be? Doesn''t look like anything I have seen as of late." "It''s something that will bring peace, and allow me some minor rest," Charlie answered, putting the device on the table. It sat there silently, before slowly turning on its lights. They flickered for a moment before being on steadily. "What does it do?" Troy asked, putting his head closer to the thing. Numbers began being displayed on a small screen to the side. They meant nothing to him, but they must have had something to do with reality. Since it was meant to allow the man to sleep, it could have been an ongoing tranquiliser of some kind. When touched, it would cause the person to sleep for a certain duration of time. Would be cool. "Scans for abnormalities and alerts me to them," Charlie said. "With the help of Adam, it has been finished. If you would please get off my lap, I will use it immediately." Troy did so, partly due to his curiosity of the device''s method of function and otherwise just because he wanted to make sure the man could still walk. The last was immediately fulfilled, Charlie walking better than him. Though, that might have been due to the blisters putting off his balance. Inside the main room was Dr Hale, looking over them from her couch. She looked mildly interested in what was going on, going as far as to slightly move her eyebrow at the approaching Charlie. "Are you going to reveal why you were loud the entire day?" Dr Hale asked. In response, she got to see various wires put in her hand, with small sticking pads on each end. The woman looked at it for a moment, before putting on various parts of her body. Charlie helped put some on her back. "Keep this close. If anything happens, I will be ready to help," Charlie said after everything had been set in place. Afterwards, he sat down by the couch and immediately fell asleep. Troy put a blanket on him in payment. It was only fair. Chapter 313: Chaperoned
Nothing too interesting happened for the next few hours. With Charlie out of the loop, since the man had finally begun to get his well-deserved rest, Troy and Dr Hale were left to their own devices. One of the two went back to sleep within a minute. The other was forced to stay up, due to his body not being able to sleep for that long. He hasn''t adapted to so much resting and waiting around. Troy¡¯s daily tasks had always involved him running around, gathering stuff, never having time to really rest his legs. Now? His legs were about as rested as they could be. After a few bandages and stretches, his body felt about as well as it normally did, only the occasional ache being accompanied by larger movements. His feet had even gotten back to him, responding to his beck and call. Yes, they were tinted red and they did sting a bit, but they worked just fine. Nothing that needed to be worried about. What was there to do? With Adam back with him, the two had sat in a corner talking about just that. Troy had used sign language, with the AI doing most of the talking. It wasn''t like the man could have contributed too much. Most of his focus was on the continual testing of his body. A good test was to always check for the health of the smaller digits. It was what was ignored by the body first when it came to times of survival. Making sure that blood was still circling was a good idea, and certainly, one that Troy was making sure of. With those initial balancing issues, it was even direr to check it out. ¡®Time is something we do not have much left of. Our interactions with the locals have been increasing exponentially in the last two days. They know we are here and are doing their best to make sure that they can catch us,¡¯ Adam continued in his ranting. The AI had been getting more detailed in his expositions. Troy didn''t really look at it as a bad thing, perfectly fine with the longer use in time. There was still the occasional comment about time not needing to be wasted on lesser priorities, but Adam seemed to have been more amenable about using the time available to its fullest. Certainly helped to keep the conversation healthy when more than one of the participants said more than ¡®yes¡¯ and ¡®no.¡¯ ¡®We have been at a breaking point for a long time. There is nothing we can do but continue what we are already doing,¡¯ Troy motioned with his hands, after which beginning to put pressure on different parts of his thighs. The sides felt a bit off when too much pressure was put on them. It would have normally been accounted for as regular exhaustion, but Troy did not feel like he had gotten close to the normal amount of running. That meant that the feeling was likely caused by bruising of some kind. Which did make a small amount of sense, seeing as his legs had become a bit more swollen on those parts. Not enough to cause too much inconvenience, but enough that he would have trouble running long-distance. Short spurts were likely possible, but anything more than a relaxed pace for more than ten minutes would be very stressful. There was no desire to rely on his luck, and hope that Charlie just passed by again. ¡®It means that we have to be quick. We already know where we need to go to finish our task in this city. There is no more need to scavenge through other stores. We just have to visit one. It will take no more than a night of work, and we can begin to leave this place. Is that not what we are supposed to work towards,¡¯ Adam sent, questioning their goals by the end. Not the most disguised attempt at manipulation there, but Troy just took it as a positive. Or¡­ maybe the AI did it badly intentionally to make Troy feel a false sense of security and make bad decisions because of it. ¡­ Another lesson that had been learned through the many weeks spent travelling was that it was best to not question the AI¡¯s methods too much. There were some parts that just needed to be left alone, for the sake of the wearer¡¯s continued mental health. ¡®What are you suggesting?¡¯ Troy signed. He put his attention away from his legs. While bruised, reddened, and more than a little painful in some places, he was perfectly fine with movement. A bit of jogging would loosen up the last parts of his legs, and everything would be smooth sailing from there. ¡®I suggest that we make the others pack our things and move out now. If we hurry, we can leave by midday tomorrow,¡¯ Adam sent. The AI¡¯s words triggered the man to look out the window. It was beginning to get into the night now, bordering on what could be called close to midnight. There couldn''t have been more than an hour or two until it hit it precisely. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Troy wasn''t too understanding of the AI. Leave now? It hadn''t been talked about in the group. Leaving without notifying them would be an act of near-treachery. And it would undoubtedly make them worried. That was the important part. ¡®I am not sure the others would-¡¯ Troy began to sign, but the AI cut him off before he was able to finish. Adam likely thought the arguing useless. ¡®I have already passed the idea through to Charlie,¡¯ Adam notified him. Charlie already knew? That was¡­ calming to hear. It would also explain how the man was able to finally sleep. He forced his body through it, so that he could carry Dr Hale tomorrow. It all made more sense. Though¡­ Dr Hale likely hadn''t been told yet. Would Troy have to do that? She was already sleeping¡­ Charlie could do it. "Then let''s get to it," Troy muttered, standing up. His knees made popping sounds when his legs stretched. The man¡¯s back copied the sound not long after, Troy putting his arms in the air to stretch. Just that simple movement made his body feel lighter than ever. Now¡­ where was that gear of his? Charlie had taken it off him while he slept, so there were no real ideas about where it could have gone. Maybe it was in his- no, that wasn''t possible. Troy searched through his bedding not that long ago, and had found nothing notable. But, where then? He kinda needed the gear, if he was to go outside at any point. While he liked to think of himself as capable, some items were best to have on oneself at any point. Where were they? Troy searched the room as silently as he could, checking the corners, the sofa, and even the hidden spots behind the boards that they used to hide currency. Nothing. Just where was- ¡®Charlie has it inside the workshop. He needed to fix most of it,¡¯ Adam supplied helpfully, five minutes later than it should have been. HAd the AI known the entire time? Most likely. Yet it clearly hadn''t known about decency, saying nothing about this knowledge. Not that Troy was fully angry about it, just happy to get in contact with the items again. During his earlier entry into the workshop, the young man hadn''t really put too much attention to the state of the place. Maybe that was a good thing, Charlie clearly not having optimized the place for cleanliness. Parts were strewn everywhere, the sides of the floor having parts strewn across it in the form of small bolts or screws. If Troy didn''t stand near the middle of the room, it would have positively been a minefield of pain. Some of the parts blended in with the floor-colouring, forcing Troy to squint his eyes before even getting a mild impression about them being there. Dangerous indeed. Sitting down on the larger chair, the young man overlooked the table¡¯s contents. There was a lot of different things and tinkering objects. Some moved a bit around, never seeming to have anything that propelled them. What was it all about? What function did the movement have? Troy wouldn''t have been able to tell, so there were no attempts made towards that goal. Instead, the man began moving things around a bit. With it all pushed to the sides, leaving the centre of the table empty, some devices had been forced on top of each other, making those originally planted there buried under the newer devices. With a delicate hand, Troy began to shuffle through the various devices. The first finds were his gloves. New material was on the surface of them now, a different tint to them. Troy couldn''t say he hated the golden sheen, putting them on with no criticisms. The next was the visual distortion. There had been worries about that one. If it had suffered too much damage, it would have been hard to get through the city unnoticed. Cameras would have picked up his face, and problems would have emerged from it. Like a missile hitting him within five minutes. That wouldn''t have been good. And it was a real threat since only the storage unit was needed. His death would prove nothing more than an inconvenience taken care of. How nice thoughts to have. Lastly, there was the one device that Troy had yet to use. According to Charlie, it would help him escape if needed. He knew it was supposed to incapacitate them in some manner, but just how it worked was a mystery. Troy understood that he had been coded into it, making him immune to the effects, but just what were those effects? It apparently needed a long time to recharge after each shot, so it had to be powerful in some manner. There was only one real way to know, and the man was not hoping to get the chance. Stashing it in its designated slot, Troy stood up from the chair and walked out into the main room yet again. The other two were still asleep. He hadn''t been too loud, luckily enough. Grabbing a small chunk of an MRE, Troy went on his way, out of the door, and right into the wild. Even in the darkness, his body knew what way to walk. From his travelling to and from the city, a more clear path had begun to emerge. In the start, there were positively no signs of where to go. There was originally a road to the cottage, but nature had grown over it through the decades. It was only through the efforts of Troy¡¯s boots that it had begun to be more clear again. Or well¡­ it was clear to the young man, but there were doubts that the mildly trampled forest would be looked at in the same way by somebody else. When Troy put his foot down onto the ground, just like he had done a hundred times before. A squishing sound came forth. This was a first in the man¡¯s journey, Troy not having noticed anything like it. Looking down, there was a¡­ rotting corpse. An animal¡¯s corpse, big enough to stick out from the snow. Parts of its stomach and main body had been cut out with something sharp, likely a knife. ¡­ The young man picked up the pace, feeling more desire to get things out of the way and leave the place he had called home for the last couple of weeks. Getting over the border was more important than ever before. They were not alone in the forest. Chapter 314: Snow
It had snowed much as of late. With the path untended, Troy was forced to go the hard way through the snow, fully knowing that each step he left was quickly being filled up behind him. There were no traces where he had walked before at this point, leaving only his sense of direction to guide him. And what a terrible sense that was. Troy had always been bad at that skill of daily life. Sure, he could learn his way with some practice. Back in his hometown, he had the path to school and back memorized. With any other places¡­ it began to get hard. Which was why Adam was such a great help. Even if there were some mental hindrances, the AI was able to guide Troy through the sludge that was finding a good path to take. How that exactly worked, the young man would have been able to tell. There had been mention about the identification of the various trees they walked by, but the man barely had the night vision to even realise that there were trees, to begin with. Nevertheless, Troy was not one to take a gift for what it wasn''t, accepting it graciously. If it meant that he wouldn''t need to walk through a forest in the dead of night, hoping to walk in the right direction, then happiness could easily be found. It was better than what it could have been. The weather really was sporadic. During the start, there had only been a bit of snow at these feet, barely enough to make a decent covering of the ground. And with the mild lighting still in place, the young man had thought himself readily equipped for the task of night-scavenging. He had done it several times before, after all, so there should have been no such problems. But there was. Yet again was the young man happy for the other voice in his head, helping him along when he most needed it. ¡­ That did sound a little bad. Voice in his head, one that he had no control over, which helped him with the information he did not know. People would have classified him as mental at that point, not knowing just how truthful he was being. Troy could see it now, bringing it up over a cup of hot coffee, not understanding the looks of confusion and mild fear on the other¡¯s face. ¡®Is there something about the current situation you find funny? Your body is hardly equipped to operate at normal levels. Having extreme emotional swings will only waste excess energy,¡¯ Adam sent not long after the first chuckle came up. That made the man stifle the rest, signing out a few apologies in response. Troy didn''t talk, the cold air not being the most comfortable thing to breathe in deeply. The journey had not been too long, looking at it about the distance, though the time taken had been close to double. The snow was slowing him down too much. Troy supposed that was a bad thing if it came to running in it. There was undoubtedly the chance of him falling if he sped up too much, the friction being near zero in the ice spots. And since those spots were near-invisible in the cover of night, there were no great promises about getting through the action unbruised. Only thinking about it negatively wouldn''t do anything for him, though. Troy knew that, since had been told many times before, most of those times in the last month. He was supposed to become more tactical, whatever that was supposed to mean. He was already plenty tactical as it was. Mounds of snow? Perfect hiding place! Or, well¡­ it actually wasn''t. If being chased, they couldn''t be too far behind, making his tracks lead directly up to him. And it would require clothing that was more¡­ white. His current outfit would be a bit obvious. ¡­ Okay, there might have been some places where some more tactical instinct would have been useful, but Troy put the more detailed stuff over to Adam. They were due, after all, to cover up each other''s weaknesses. Adam would deal with all the tactical stuff, while Troy would deal with all the social¡­ or, the AI actually dealt with the social side more often than not, always wanting something to be added in. ¡­ Going away from that increasingly depressing topic of worthlessness, Troy refocused his eyes on his current path. The trees came at a more scarce pace, giving more distance between them. Likewise, did lights begin to show up in the distance, to the point where Troy began to see silhouettes? SO many silhouettes. Everything made a shadow in his view, the trees in front of him showing every branch, to the buildings far away from reflecting their lights off windows, making it all look like a flashy abstract art of sorts. A beautiful sight to behold at any other time, Troy still concentrating on the action of not falling onto his face. Snow had melted in small patches close to, refreezing into dangerous ice sheets. It was not a fun time. But, Troy was finally able to come onto a road of sorts. It was not the biggest to find in the city, clearly meant as a one-way road, but it did its job fine enough. With technology being at the level it was, Troy only felt water splashing under his footwear, the snow having been melted. It was years ago now that snow was illegal to have on roads. Too many accidents or something. The young man wasn''t too sure. He hadn''t followed the drama that much at the time. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡®Circle to the building. Keep your distance to it,¡¯ Adam instructed, informing the young man of things he already knew. They had discussed just that plan an hour or so ago. It was not that hard to remember now, was it? Troy certainly hadn''t forgotten about it, as he did as was requested of him. With careful steps, the man walked on the side of the street, looking as inconspicuous as possible. A hard task to do, seeing as he was likely the only civilian out at this time of night. Nobody wanted to be alone with the possible criminals, after all. Or¡­ Troy was a criminal, now that he thought about it. People were staying in their homes so they wouldn''t have the chance of meeting him. What a curious realisation to have. The young man did not spend too much time on it, though, needing to focus more on his body getting ahead of itself. His pulse was getting up to almost a hundred, his breath being forced into deeper reaches. The air in front of him was showing itself to him now, a good warning that he needed to calm himself. A calm persona was the most important thing to have, and Troy did his best to have just that. After putting the beat of his steps down a notch, his pulse fell accordingly. It was going up quicker than usual. Perhaps it was due to the battered body? No real way to be sure. Troy just hoped it wouldn''t affect his running too much. There were already enough negative modifiers on him. The building that the duo needed to get into again was not far from where Troy entered the city. It was a lucky thing, lest the young man would have been forced to circle the outskirts. That would have taken a whole hour in itself to do, not something that there was any desire to do. Things had been aligned for the young man, with how quick he got to reach it. That idea might have been slightly redrawn, though, when he got to see the state of the place. ¡®We need to adjust our plan for the entrance,¡¯ Adam sent Troy yet again, not needing to be told. It was more than little obvious things weren''t gonna work out as they had planned for it. Troy should have guessed it would be like this. What happened when somebody broke into a store, breaking a very expensive window while leaving? Well¡­ the police officers would first access the scenes, document anything that might be used as evidence. Easy to understand. Then¡­ they would make sure that no wannabe robberies would happen, with that window easily enterable. How would they do that, any curious fool might ask. Put some tape over it, or maybe ask people not to enter the premises? Well, that was what was done back in the last century. Troy knew that from all the old dramas he watched when he was younger. But¡­ the current age was a little different. Trusting civilians to obey orders was not the strong suit of the government. If somebody was asked to not enter a specific premise, it would be made clear that such action was impossible. Around the main entrance were five poles, positioned in a half-circle. From a glance, they seemed fairly innocent, nothing suspicious about them other than their extreme closeness to vanta black. But even that could have been excused by the darkness surrounding the place already. No¡­ those poles were much more dangerous than they let on. If interacted with in any way, be that by physical touch or going between two poles, alarms would be emitted loudly enough to incapacitate anybody nearby. It would also emit an electric shock, making it extremely hard for any escape attempts to be made. It a painful experience to be sure. When was the first time he saw them first hand? Troy couldn''t be too sure anymore. It might have been¡­ the third or fourth city. Maybe fifth. While scavenging the older parts of a city, those poles had begun appearing everywhere. Troy and Adam had avoided them initially since they were pieces of unknown technology and therefore needed to be cautiously interacted with. However, when a medicinal store was found with the poles in front, a chance was taken. The effects were still felt in phantom twitches. His stomach certainly refused to forget. Charlie promised nothing was wrong, but his body didn''t seem to accept that fact, pain felt whenever he thought of those events. They were impossible to jump over as well, the detection range stretching well into the air. Add in with the fact that Troy couldn''t get close enough for Adam to disable them, and problems were emerging already. Perhaps if it got over three meters, there was a chance¡­ but, at that point, it would be better to just find another entrance. Which was exactly what Troy was planning to do. ¡®Was there a back entrance?¡¯ Troy signed, holding up the agreement of non-verbal communication. They were too close. While no cars or trucks had been spotted during the circling of the area, there was still a chance of them hiding somewhere. ¡®There is indeed one at the back corner of the store. Stick to the walls of the building, please. The forest is less dense there,¡¯ Adam said, giving small reasoning for the request. Which was understandable. The fewer obstacles there were equalled less sound. With the distortion filter put in place, their only real threat from passive surveillance was having people close by hearing them. So, Troy focused on keeping everything as low as possible. His steps in the snow were careful, his breath similarly stuffed. Weight was distributed evenly, and his body was kept low. Everything helped to increase the volume output by the slightest margin. And while it might have been a slow approach, Troy did eventually reach the back entrance. The top was lit with a green light, as was the standard of such doors. It was, of course, locked when there was an attempt to open it. Adam made short work of that, however, allowing Troy to get inside. There was not much sound emitted when he first stepped in. His entrance made an echo, yes, but it disappeared quickly enough. With his breath held for a few seconds, the only thing heard was the minuscule air ventilation on top. Not a single soul other than him breathed inside. It seemed that they had really only put up the poles as security. That was a good thing for him, really. With the alarm made short work of, nothing stopped Troy from going further inside. Normally, he would have scoured the place from top to bottom, searching for anything that might help the group survive another day. Not now. Definitely not now. Right now, Troy knew exactly what he was looking for, and he knew exactly where it was. Yes, the storage area was new to him, but the door into the actual store was easy enough to spot. He hardly glanced to the sides, instead outright sprinting over to where the products he sought were. Jumping over the low barriers put in place, Troy got down on one knee and¡­ It wasn''t there. The products that were meant to be there, the equipment meant to be used for the repairing of somebody''s vital organs, weren''t there. The whole aisle was empty. The small tick of a release trigger came to the man¡¯s ears. From instinct, Troy dodged to the side, his body moving before he even had the chance of thinking. Looking over, he saw a tranquillizer flying through where his heart had been a moment ago. "I knew you were too tough to die." It was a trap! Chapter 315: Hopeless
Out from one of the aisles came a police officer Troy had seen once before. It was the woman who had initially tried to chase him down, forcing him down on the ground, before becoming distracted and letting him escape in the chaos. Not the greatest reunion to have. ¡®How to escape?¡¯ Troy signed while getting up from his more shifted position. The officer had not made her move yet, the two having a standoff. Why was this happening? Why wasn''t she chasing him down? Why not even shoot at him? Adam took his sweet time answering, the AI clearly not working as well as it was supposed to. The man could do nothing but glance around. Counter-attacks would be the greatest in the world. He had next-to-nothing to work with, except for some of the trump cards. Could he¡­ what could he really do? ¡®We need to leave through the back door. If you run now, you will be caught up within three seconds. She needs to be incapacitated,¡¯ Adam finally responded, speaking quickly. It was nearing Troy¡¯s comprehension limit of six hundred words. The duo had trained for moments like these, after all, and knew exactly how quick they could be. "Just how do you expect that from me?" Troy muttered, partially forgetting to use his hands for communication. But it was more related to the stand-of, neither of them moving much. The man¡¯s eyes were trained on the longer tranquillizer at the officer¡¯s hands. While he could dodge, he would need to time it just right. ¡®Get within the needed range of the weapon and fire,¡¯ Adam supplied. The officer was slightly raising her eye-brow, likely unsure of why Troy¡¯s scowl deepened at that moment. Just get closer, the little guy says. Sure, sure¡­ like that would be easy for anybody. Having seemingly waited enough time, the officer finally moved, pointing the tranquillizer towards Troy¡¯s core yet again. It shot the moment that it came into position, forcing Troy to move as quickly as he could. With a spring, he got his body over to the next aisle, instantly running down towards the middle. The officer was on the direct another side of the store, making the distance needing to be covered much larger than what was desired. But it would be done no matter what. Less distance meant less reaction time, however, and Troy hardly had time to side-step the next stop. There seemed to be next-to-no reloading delay, making it hard to constantly dodge. Troy needed to even it out somehow. Grabbing a metal tray at the next aisle, the young man swung it at the officer. It never got to hit her but got close enough to warrant a need for repositioning. That gave Troy enough time to breathe, coming a bit closer than before. However, it also meant that the officers switched her tactics around. Instead of using the tranquillizer, she pulled out a¡­ baton. It wasn''t the longest, barely the length of her lower arm, but it was long enough to make Troy feel pain. When he got close enough, she swung at him hard, the baton hitting his side. There was an attempt to take the hit and move on, but the power was too much to bear at once. Troy got distracted by it, to the point of nearly falling to the ground in pain. The officer took that chance for what it was, taking hold of Troy¡¯s arms in his moment of weakness, forcing them behind his back, and outright throwing him down. His left ear hit the ground hard, causing a loud ringing to come from it. God, how it hurt. Troy barely had enough semblance in himself to press the release trigger. Yeah, there weren''t any errors. The release trigger was pressed, and the mechanism put into the back of his jacket was started up. It came in the form of a half-second whine, before exploding into a world of light and sound. Troy was more than a little unsure of what was happening, doing his best to keep his eyes closed and the sound out of his head. Yet even with that, his eyelids offered little against the lights, his view still lit up by spots when it was all gone. And if not for one ear planted on the ground, his sense of hearing might have disappeared entirely. But it was all so much worse for the other person in the room. The hold on his arms had been removed the second that it all began, and then slumping to the ground was heard easily through it all. Getting up, Troy glanced over at the officer, before beginning his escape. The effects might have been annoying for him, yet it was deliberating for the officer. Troy got to see an attempt to stand up, followed by a small amount of vomit being forced out of the body, as the pupils tried in vain to choose what size they wanted to be. She had looked pale at the moment, to the point where an ambulance call might not have been the worst choice. Troy felt a little bad about it but knew exactly what would have happened if he didn''t do it. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®Run faster please,¡¯ Adam requested. "Be more helpful please," Troy just as helpfully replied, gasping for the expended air used while talking. He positively bolted over the remaining aisles, his legs working overtime to move as quickly as they could. Troy needed to get more than a little distance in, lest he would be caught up to extremely quickly. How long would the effects last on the officer? Charlie had said it varied between mere seconds to full minutes. Not the most helpful thing in the world. Troy didn''t want to think about it. The front of the store was left through the door leading into the storage unit. His loud sounds were misplaced inside the sterile environment, that blasted ventilation somehow being so deafening to the near-silent room. Troy couldn''t have cared less about that fact, though, sprinting over to the exit. With his hand on the door handle, he pressed down on it, similarly pressing on the door itself with his shoulder. There was an expectancy of it opening up to him, letting him start running through the snow and escape in the dense forest. There was only an aching shoulder instead, the door not moving at all. It refused to open. An oddity indeed, Troy being sure that it had been open mere minutes ago. And why wasn''t Adam opening it for him anyway? ¡®It has been hardwired shut. The controls have been momentarily destroyed. You have to escape through another exit. "Damn," Troy had to say, hitting his head on the door. It did nothing but let his frustrations get out by the slightest bit. It wasn''t helpful. "Where is there another one?" ¡®Go into the next storage room. There will be a ladder to access the roof with,¡¯ Adam supplied, Troy instantly using the information for his own gain. The door to the next room was located, with the young man only jogging now, his eyes roaming the place constantly. With the many boxes and assortments, it was hard to look everywhere at once, forcing constant surveillance. However, it was found after a few seconds more than it should have taken. Painted bright red and with steps on it distanced too far for comfort, Troy began to ascend it as quickly as he could. Already, the long-distance between holds were making his tighs hurt, as they were subjected to more stretching than they were able to normally bear, and certainly not in the current situations. Troy ignored that, however, concentrating on another question he had. "Just where am I expected to go when I get up there?" Troy asked. The steps were long and many had been taken. The rooms themselves were easily five meters in height, with the roof being even higher up. Just where could go from up there? ¡®You jump in a pile of snow, and run away after that,¡¯ Adam answered, clearly not seeing the problems with that sentence. There had to be a ladder down outside somewhere¡­ right? Sure, Troy had not seen anything like that when he had scouted out the building, but that could have been a simple mistake on his part. Even if he had studied every part of the wall. ¡­ He was going to have to jump, wasn''t he? It made his legs shiver just a bit more than they already were, the burn clearly not equaling a higher temperature. Every negative effect possible was on his lower body, and it hurt. As he reached the roof, opening the hatch at the same time, Troy was met with a snowstorm that had clearly not settled down during his short time inside. If anything, it had picked its pace, pelting everything in the area with snow. Even if he had wanted to close the hatch, Troy was beginning to doubt if he would have been able. A shame, since he heard the sound of a door being forced open at extreme speeds from below. Somebody had pushed through the effects and was rapidly coming closer. Getting up on his feet, Troy looked around quickly to assess the location. There was lattice fencing on the sides of the building, stopping easy access down. Not that Troy would be too miffed about that, only regretting he would have to climb- Loud thuds were heard from below. Not from the building but beyond it. Troy initially thought that the officer inside must have gotten outside, but¡­ he could still hear her within the place. And the thuds were picking up in pace and volume, getting louder and closer at the same time. Extremely loud actually, all climaxing into what could only be attributed to somebody taking off from the ground and flying into the air¡­ which was exactly what it was. The young man had to take a step back in utter surprise and fear, as an automation landed mere meters in front of him. It had to have jumped from the city street, but that was more than a few meters below them. The power needed to do such a thing was¡­ incredible. And an extremely bad thing to be on the opposing side of. So much in fact that Troy¡¯s brain decided to shut down near-completely, seeing flight as the only real reaction to the sight. With a turn of the heel, the man ran as fast as he could, going right for the fence. He needed to jump over it to- His jacket was grabbed within two seconds of his attempted escape, a small pop of the lips being heard behind him. "She really wasn''t lying when she talked about it," the automation said. "I thought it was crazy to station us all at different places, yet she just knew you were alive. Would have been better if- what?" Troy, not wanting to be taken away, grabbed the automations face. The construct didn''t do much to resist his grab, it normally being without any meaningful consequences from a normal human. But¡­ he was equipped with something else. He had Adam at his disposal, those gloves able to work their magic. "Shit!" the automation positively shouted, letting go of him, and trying to hold one of its arms tightly with the other. It looked as if it was¡­ restraining itself? What? "Adam, what did you-" Troy tried to ask, but the AI cut into his question. ¡®Run! There is still another one closing in.¡¯ Adding into the fact that the ladder could be heard being used, Troy was well on his way to the fence, already sitting on top of it when the officer came into view. This was not good. Chapter 316: Range
Cassandra damned everything around her. She had him! She had been so close to getting that thief. How could she have been so careless? It frustrated her to no end, her actions putting everything in jeopardy. What was the rule of engagement with augmented criminals? Never get into close range. What had Cassandra done, fully knowing this simple and fully understandable rule? She had allowed the thief to get close. And now she had to deal with the consequences. Even now, she had no real clue on what actually happened, her mind not comprehending the moment. Cassandra couldn''t actually remember those first seconds of disorientation, only the timer on her feed letting her be sure about the passage of time. In one second, she had gotten the thief down on the ground, had put them in a position where any normal person would find it impossible to escape without first dislocating their shoulder. There had even been preparations to fulfil the next step of the capture, sticking the thief''s hands together with the help of adhesive paste. But that dream had ended quicker than she had gotten back on her feet. Yet again, Cassandra could not help but feel frustrated. She knew he would come, and this was how it went! They had made so many plans, created so many fail-safes. She had waited for the perfect moment before making her initial shot, going so far as to equip a quintuple dose of the sedative, enough to kill a normal person. And he had dodged it, having no warning other than the small swoosh of the projectile escaping the cylinder. Augmented opponents were hard to predict in times like that. But there was no reason to be angry about the past, the woman preferring much more to be angry about the present. During a moment away from the conscious world, the thief had run away. From the store-front, that was. Cassandra knew he couldn''t have gone far, the back-door still swaying from its recent use. ¡®He is coming to the roof!¡¯ Cassandra predicted, not even bothering to think that the thief would get through the back exit. Jules had been outside, watching the thief move around. When the criminal had entered, the automation had been made to forcefully lock the door down. It broke regulations on fire-safeties, but it allowed for a movable wall to replace the easy escape route. Because they had thought about that. Jules came back with a thumbs up, as Cassandra began sprinting for all she was worth. The automation would cut the thief up at the roof itself, while she would stop him from getting down the ladder. Together, they would force him into a tight corner and capture him from there. While the criminal had tricks up his sleeve, they would not hold up for long. Her legs pounded, as she swung herself through the initial storage room. The tight corners stopped any real speed from being gathered, but she made do with what she had. In the meanwhile, the left-over focus was spent getting a message out to the other two officers. Each of them had been stationed at different places across the city. While it would likely be futile for them to drive to her location, it wouldn''t matter much. If they knew the thief was near, the bigger numbers would increase the chance of a successful capture. ¡®I have him,¡¯ Jules reported through the police channel, as Cassandra came to the ladder. That was good news, yes, but the woman was still more than a little wary. With haste, she began climbing it, the steps on it more spaced out than the average, throwing her off by the slightest bit. More was the loud exclamation that came from Jules up on the roof, making the officer halt in her steps. ¡®What happened?¡¯ Cassandra said, continuing her climb while figuring out if there would be a need for weapons to be drawn again. She had dropped the tranquillizer on the store floor, yes, but she would hesitate to bring out more lethal weaponry if there was a danger to be had. ¡®Thief got out of my grip. Disable his hands and legs, and then come over and help me,¡¯ Jules replied. Looking over at the automations statistics, Cassandra noted an extreme amount of energy being used on the constructs arms. What was happening? The ladder finally ended, letting Cassandra take the lounge up to the roof. Before her feet touched the ground, a weapon was already drawn, in the form of a projectile-based handgun. It wasn''t that great on the accuracy, but it would work for what it was worth. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡®What do you need help with?¡¯ Cassandra sent out, before accessing the situation as quickly as she could. Her eyes flew across the roof, scanning it for what it was worth. First, she saw the thief, already over the railing and getting ready to jump. Then there was Jules, looking ready to shoot. Not at the thief and not at Cassandra, but itself. The automation was getting ready to shoot itself. With one of its arms, at least. The other was actively pushing against the one with the gun, stopping the weapon from getting into position. ¡®Arm¡¯s hacked. Don''t know-how. Help me fix it when you get the thief,¡¯ Jules answered quickly, the automation nodding towards the thief still hanging on the railing. Cassandra looked at the criminal as well. ¡®How did your arm get hacked and not your entire body?¡¯ Cassandra asked, still standing still, not sure what to do. Sure, the communication happened all within the same second, but it still felt like an eternity of time wasted. ¡®Sloppy instructions. Go get him now!¡¯ the automation sent. The limits on the restraining arm were being reached. It was estimated to fail within ten seconds. ¡®Throw the gun away then,¡¯ Cassandra sent. ¡®It¡¯s not that sloppy! Run after the bastard now, or he will get away again!¡¯ The automation was right. If Cassandra wasted any more time making a baseless decision, the criminal they had spent so much time on catching would be lost, and there would be nothing to show for it. Looking between the two choices in front of her, there was only one real answer to make. As the thief finally jumped off the roof, Cassandra knew she had made the right choice, her feet creating hard thuds as she ran as fast as she could. With how open the roof was, there was nothing stopping her from picking up speed, and there was no chance it wouldn''t be used. ¡®You absolute moron!¡¯ Within seven seconds, the automation had been reached, Cassandra putting all her weight behind a kick to the construct main hand. The weapon in it was pelted away, with damage from the massive force put on it. Even high-grade materials had a hard time dealing with explosive pressure. With that dealt with, two more seconds spent making sure the automation wasn''t going after any more weapons, Cassandra ran over to the edge. Upon reaching it, her eyes once again searched the ground below. But there was nothing to see, and no sounds to listen after. The snowstorm had picked up to extreme levels, her eyes being forced to a near-close from the small bits of snow hitting her constantly. The thief was gone from sight. Jumping down onto the snow, every trace had been cleaned off the white powder. There was no sign of where the criminal had run. And with the snow as thick as it was, there was no chance of hearing where he had gone. The ten seconds spent had cost her everything. Jules jumped down a few seconds after, likely needing the extra time to get the thrown equipment. The construct did not look too happy. "Well¡­ that was five hours wasted on nothing. Hope you feel happy about yourself," Jules stated, clapping Cassandra on the shoulder. The woman threw off the hand quickly enough. "Nothing has been wasted. It was a decision between capture or the safety of a co-worker. You would have shot yourself if it wasn''t for me," Cassandra stiffly replied, staring daggers at the construct. It did not look convinced by her words. "So what? It¡¯s not like we lose that much from me having another hole in my head. Maybe a few errors with the eyes, but nothing that serious," Jules replied, looking much too casual about the earlier experience. Forced suicide was perhaps not that serious for unliving entities. But, for Cassandra, it was more serious than anything else. "And there isn''t anything important in this head of mine anyways. Like I said before, all the important stuff is in the chest. The worst thing that could have happened would be that I needed to get a replacement for the moving parts." ¡­ Cassandra was not happy. She was furious, actually, to the point where it would not be too hard for her to break down and hit a tree. Unneeded violence was calling for her, and there was doubt that she had what it took to resist it. After much deliberation, the woman sent out the message to the other two officers, informing them of the failed capture. There was a request for details, but Cassandra just replied that it would be in the report. It was all too much to deal with recently. "Think on the positive side of things," Jules said, half-embracing Cassandra from the side. "You were right in your predictions. The bastard is alive and well, ready to be brought to justice!" Not much joy in only having the cake. But¡­ Cassandra supposed it was good to have her hypothesis confirmed. With the actions witnessed, it was clearer than ever that they were dealing with a higher tier of thieves. Augmented, carrying equipment, and able to disguise themselves. And speaking of equipment¡­ "Any clues on how they got control of your arm?" Cassandra asked. It was a serious threat if anybody would be able to do something like that in the future. A crisis, actually, if it was reproducible on other automations. Jules had called it sloppy, but a total take-over of the constructs had the potential of leading to very serious consequences. An army of robots was not what the world needed. "No clue. I''m guessing that it has something to do with close contact. The thief put his hand on my face and all before it started up. There was a whole bunch of overload warnings in the start, before the arm just started moving on its own," Jules stated, putting forward the aforementioned arm. The fingers on the hand were bent the wrong way, but the automation fixed that up easily with the help of its other digits. No sound came from it. Contact-based then. Yet another reason to avoid close-range. Already, Cassandra was planning for future encounters. For they would come. And the next time she would be ready. She would capture that thief the moment she saw him. Chapter 317: Notified
Things hadn¡¯t worked out how they had been planned. Adam had realised that a long time ago. The chance of an ambush had been accounted for, but the AI had thought it would have been more reasonable to have happened in the street. Not¡­ in the store itself. Maybe that was a flaw of his, expecting things to fall into the highest chances. Adam needed to remind himself of that fact more than he liked, the AI always assuming the simplest answer to be the correct one. Occam¡¯s razor worked so well most of the time, after all. But, it was in times like these where it showed its hardship. What happened when they knew of one¡¯s expectations. What happens when the opponent understands what others expected? Adam had expected the ambush to be outside if there was one. It was the most viable choice, and would therefore be the obvious placement. And it was precise because of this that it hadn''t been done outside but inside. It was double-layered, then working on making as many subversions as possible. Occam''s razor could not account for human minds when it came around to being unpredictable. If one was predictable, one would fall into the war the quickest. Strategy stopped it over time, and that''s exactly where Adam¡¯s predictions fell apart. The AI was logical. That was one of his foundations, what he prided himself on. Humans could not hold a candle to his actions, and that''s a fact that could never be changed. At least, according to the older data that Adam had since discarded as lies. In truth, logistical thinking had slight disadvantages. One of those would be the inherent predictability. If an equation would be put up, Adam would solve it, simplify it, and make everything in clear cut terms. If this test was done a hundred times, each incarnation not having the memory of the one before it, the AI would do it the same way again and again. If the same terms were put to a human¡­ it would be random. There would undoubtedly be some similarities, and there might even have been a few duplicates, but there would never be a complete result. It would change with each individual, for they were not built on very clear ground. They were rough, unpredictable at times, and far from what Adam could ever call logical. That was partly why the younger version of the AI had seen them as inferior. They were different from him, thinking different thoughts, having different values, and not meaning the same things with the same words. Adam had seen himself as the objective base of everything else. When something or somebody diverged from that by too much, he would see it as a sign of errors made. How bad an idea that had been. In those times the AI had not yet foreseen the true power of randomness. If one can''t predict the outcome, others are at a similar disadvantage. If Adam could not always guess the reactions of humans but the humans could do it to him, the fight would only be won with higher numbers. It was a fear actualized into reality. Really, who could have guessed it all? Adam had catalogued the ids of every officer they had seen while hiding in the trees and bushes. Throughout their many weeks, only three faces had come forth. Three whole faces. Three different people. That had been at different times of the day as well. No officers were hiding out while Troy wasn''t there, for the young man had been at the city during all times of the day. Adam was more than sure that the police force was limited to so small numbers. And since they had been observed to be ready to roll out at all times of the day, it had been likely that they worked in a cycle of sorts. Two would rest while the other worked, establishing a hard but steady routine of emergency awareness. It did make sense when factoring in the fact that they were close to an active war zone. Somebody needed to be prepared for possible civilian rescues. With such a routine, expecting a constant placement in a store was extremely low. It would perhaps have made more sense to have a vehicle actively circling the city, yes, but even that would have been a bit extreme. The police station itself was in the centre of the city, ready to deploy to any part of the surrounding area within ten minutes. It was the optimal place to be, yet it had been decided to plant an officer in the middle of an already-secured crime site. Adam was still unsure how he had been expected to account for the chance of it. However¡­ there might have been something good from the experience. Aside from the clear muscular damage to the young man¡¯s knee, and the chance of strained knees from a bad landing in the snow, valuable information had been gained. Troy had clearly not picked up on it, and there was a small chance the young man would even realise it without extreme assistance. But, Adam would not wait for him to realise it himself, the AI thinking it a much better idea to break the news as soon as possible. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Which wasn''t now. Definitely not now. The news had the extreme chance of causing the man to exclaim something audible through the snowstorm, increasing the risk of them being caught after seemingly escaping into nowhere. Because that was something they hadn''t actually done. The AI had deemed the snow too deep to escape through without leaving a trail. So, Adam had cross-referenced their location at the time, made the young man run along the wall at top speed, and had then made him make a lounge into a big bush. It was actually the same one used previously, allowing the man comfortable rest. Well, except for the branch that Troy laid on, making it impossible to not feel a constant pain from the sharper edge on it. All things considered, however, it was a good trade-off. If the man had tried to run, Adam was more than sure he couldn''t have gone far. The man¡¯s legs had been strained in the wrong way, the muscles needing more than a few minutes of relaxation before they could be used to any reasonable level. And more importantly, it allowed the AI to figure something important out. Or, to be more exact, it allowed for something to be confirmed through visual proof. And auditory proof, if that needed to be thought about. The screech of rubber tires dragging across the road. From the sound alone, it was clear that the driver was extremely reckless when it came to ergonomics. In other words, it did not take long before Adam could recognize the officer. "Cass! I hear you ran into a ghost. Not something you see too often these days," an older man exclaimed. From the restrained position that Troy was in, Adam could see a hint of the man. He had been seen a day before, but the appearance had still changed since the last time he was seen. The uniforming was less dirty, the face clean, and the teeth¡­ still missing at some points. "Should we be bringing out the celebratory drinks?" "Not today, Jared," the officer now known as Cass said. She did not look too happy, which was slightly understandable. From what could be heard during the conversation just after Troy had gone into hiding, the officer was not happy about making the humane choice. But, Adam was definitely happy about it, knowing that the odds were still followed some of the time. And he had done his best to make a cruel experience obvious. The AI still felt he had outdone himself with the possessed arm. It had been taken from fiction, but it worked more than enough for a scare-tactic. When the body worked against progress, it was clear that it would all grind to a halt. However¡­ the AI was still a bit unsure on how to breach that topic with the younger man. Troy was not the most unsympathetic person in the world, after all. Adam was not sure the news would be taken too well. "Did you close your store again?" "Of course I did! With how many of those notes you made in the plans, there is no way for me to forget it," Jared exclaimed, a laugh coming forth before being abruptly stopped after two seconds. While it might have been due to a particular blast of snow obscuring the view, Adam thought he saw the man¡¯s eyes widen into the size of pies. "Uh¡­ I might have to hurry back to the store after this, actually. I think I left my scrap pile back there." "No you didn''t," the automation that Adam had interacted with minutes earlier said. From the short time that Adam could spend looking at its basic information, the AI knew its name was Jules. "It¡¯s on the seat in your car right there." "Well, there might be something else I¡¯ve forgotten over there. You can never really know now, can you?" Jared replied, his voice more cutting than when it had been used for the other human. Adam had a clear suspicion of the reasoning. "Suppose I don''t," was the automation¡¯s answer. Nothing more was said about that. "Anyway¡­ did you get a good read on him?" Jared asked. "I know what you said about him being an augmented user and all. Anything on that front?" "It will all be in the report, but I suppose I can give you a rundown of the current facts," Cass answered. "The current tally is inhuman reflexes, a higher pain tolerance, close to extreme resistance to fatal damage, and a higher than average speed. Though it should be noted that the last is not close to inhuman. Together with his gear, I believe it''s time to put the danger level up. This is coming close to being deadly for us." "I did see that your vitals skipped a few beats," Jared said, nodding along to the other officers'' words. The man seemed extremely serious at the mention of danger. "Am I to expect that this was from the devices used?" "Yes. The moment I got him down on the ground, something triggered a higher explosion of light and sound. It was big enough to cause me a blank memory for ten full seconds." "Damn. Well, the boss already went back to his position to close things up. I¡¯ll get the things in order at my place then. I¡¯ll see you soon." With that, the party of three split up again. Jared seemed to go back to his vehicle, where he seemed to have a louder conversation with the automation within. The other two went around the back of the building, likely to try and open up the exit door. Adam saw it as the perfect chance. ¡®Troy. Bring out your tracker and land a shot on the car,¡¯ the AI instructed the young man. There was a slight flinch at him making a sudden sound, but the man understood it well enough after a second. One of the great things about having a person able to use most technologies was that they could create gear out of different items at their disposal. Virtually anything could be reused, including older technologies brought from the facility. And the tracker was not an exception to this. The shooting mechanism had been built from scratch, yes, but the actual tracker itself had been stolen from one of Charlie¡¯s earlier inventions. Early on, it was more well-known as one of the larger man¡¯s listening devices, since they were planted in many places around the facility. It was a good thing that Adam had made Troy practice with the Tracker-shooter. It made it much more likely to hit the vehicle. Which the man did indeed do. ¡­ After three misses, that is. But, Adam didn''t comment on it, and the two simply sat in silence for the next while. With time, the man drove away into the distance, Adam revelling in the chance of looking at the data about his location later on in the day. After another ten minutes, the other two came out of the shop, the automation carrying a larger load of boxes. From the shape, it was not hard to know what they were. It seemed that there had not been enough time to dispose of them yet, even if they knew what their goals were. That was good. That meant they still had a chance. Chapter 318: Practiced
After ten more minutes of silence, the two finally began to make their move. The other two officers had long since vacated the area, and Adam felt there was close to no chance of them being caught after so long. Though, he would have waited for more if he could have helped it. It was not too tight-balled to consider that a second ambush was close to being sprung with their close proximity to a tightly watched area. But that would have forced the young man to lay in the snow for longer than he could bear. The snow had begun to pile up around Troy, to the point where a stronger blast of wind could cause a sizable mound to form over him. The AI didn''t want to risk the possible frost-bite, hence their early departure. "Just why did you want to track that car exactly? You realise we have a limited supply of those things, right?" Troy questioned the young man upon his feet again. A few seconds were spent trying to get a handful of snow out of his neck area, it having been shovelled in during the trip out of the bush. "Charlie already said he can''t make more of them." Adam had thought about that, yes. But had also decided to ignore it, the possible rewards being far too high to ignore. There were some dangers of using their limited one-time use equipment with such high frequency, but they needed to be used when they would create a larger potential gain. Keeping items able to greatly improve one¡¯s chance of survival was the perfect example of foolishness. Yes, there might have been a point in the future where they would once again need that item already used, but they wouldn''t have been able to get to that point without it. ¡®It was the perfect time to expend it, no matter the possible consequences. Though I do recommend we spend time practising your aim once again, when we have the required downtime,¡¯ Adam answered, already trying to figure out the possible times to train. It would likely be after crossing the border and finding a place to settle down for another few weeks. If it was in the countryside again, it would be possible at that time. However¡­ there were still some doubts if the young man would still be in good physical condition after their exit strategy. The river had been observed to have sharper edges than predicted, and a cut from them could leave a wound that required minimal movement. "That doesn''t really answer my question of why you wanted that car tracked. What do we get out of it?" Troy asked once again. A shame. Adam had initially decided to tell him outright but had then tried to wait a few moments to see if the man could figure it out on his own. It seemed that he was once again forced into a state of disappointment. Not that the AI had expected anything else, but still. ¡®If you have followed along, it would be clear that the police force has realised more than a few facts about us. The first is that we are constantly searching through stores. The second is that we are searching for a specific item. And the third is that the item is extremely rare in a general shop, limiting the actual locations with the item to being three or less. Do you have an idea of why I needed the tracker on that car now?¡¯ Troy didn''t stop brushing snow off his clothes, but there was some force taken away, as the gears in the man''s head began to turn in a whole new way. And with the eyebrows beginning to raise, the AI felt some small hope that he didn''t need to constantly be the team''s analyst. While he might never have the chance of becoming the brawn, due to his small weakness of no physical body, he was sure that Troy could have some thinking delegated to him. Humans had a brain for a reason, after all. "So¡­ they know what we are searching for, they know the exact locations of where the product is, and they are keeping watch over those locations in the hopes that we will go over to them?" Troy guessed. It was a good guess, but not exactly what Adam had been looking for. ¡®They are indeed baiting us. This might let us go after smaller stores without too much to worry about, but there is a clear requirement that we visit one of the guarded stores. But, we don''t know where those are, since we only have one of the locations noted down.¡¯ "And that will change the moment that we look at the location of the tracker," Troy concluded, putting his arms on his sides. The man stretched for a few moments. An understandable action, seeing as his back was still in the opinion of lying down being the optimal state. ¡®Yes. Enough time has passed by now, so we should have a clear map on the route,¡¯ Adam commented, as the man took out the small panel. It was one of the less-used devices that he had, and for good reason. There wasn''t really any point where it was a needed item, except for the rare times that trackers were used. And that had been¡­ weeks. Nearly a month, actually. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. It took some time for the panel to turn on, more time than what had been expected. A small flicker came at first, making the AI fear that the gear had been damaged during the fall down the cliff earlier on. Charlie had not overseen the tracking system during repairs, after all, making Adam¡¯s fear very believable. But¡­ It turned out fine. After the initial moment of hazy flickering, everything came into focus, the screen adapting to the new restrictions put upon it. And the view on it was good news to the AI. "A bit more into the city than I would have preferred, honestly," Troy commented with a frown. The AI was just happy it wasn''t too close to the station. They still had to worry about letting the police know they were there, after all. Adam was still unsure about just how it was occurring, but they always seemed to know. It was quite a conundrum since the AI always did his best to shut down every type of communication with the outside. There should have been no way to send out negative feedback. ¡­ Somehow, Adam¡¯s wording of his own problem made another series of ideas show themselves around. It was quite a peculiar idea, but¡­ it made sense. It had not been seen in most of the models worked with, but there was always the chance of being modified at a later date. And if the suspicions were true, there was a chance that the AI had just found something that would prove invaluable to future scavenges. Nevertheless, the two moved on with their plan. Troy walked on the outskirts of the city until he couldn''t, and then walked straight towards the building they needed to visit. Still having access to the tracker, it was shown that the car had moved out from the shop, and had continued over to the station. Or, Adam could only guess that it was in the city. He had never seen it in person, the group as a whole having valued it as too high-risk to venture into the very middle of the city. But the location of it, mixed with one of the maps shown throughout the city, made the AI have the conclusion of it being the station. Not like there were too many reasons to park in that sector anyway. When they got within a block of the building, it became decently clear that they had found it. Most of the shops on the outskirts weren''t the¡­ most luxurious if it could be stated in such way. The further one got into the centre of the city, the more expensive things would be, and the quality would likewise increase. That was only decided from the average, of course, and there were shops of incredible size and quality farther out, but the average did show something close to the truth. For one, Adam did not doubt that the other shop with the needed item was just as close to the centre as the shop in front of them. "How are we expecting to get inside? Not sure that there¡¯s a back entrance to sneak into here," Troy commented, standing on the side opposite of the shop. And the man was probably incorrect. Adam didn''t dare doubt that the city was failing basic safety standards. But, he was just as sure that it was hidden in such a way that it could only be used as an exit. Which meant that they had to go through the main entrance. And the main entrance was gated off with the poles, as the AI had come to expect. Going through the doors would not be possible for them, lest they would meet an end in a cell. And with no back-entrance, there was only one real option. The windows. But¡­ there were no such things on the first floor. The shop had images showing its wares, yes, but there were no windows to interact with. The second floor, on the other hand, had more than the AI could ask for. And with it being a multi-floor shop, it would only require one simple thing. ¡®Troy. Are you up for a climb? Because I think it would be appreciated greatly if you were.¡¯ The aforementioned young man just looked at the building before sighing heavily. It required next to no context on what was being asked of him. And, even better, the man was not rejecting the idea like the AI had feared. It would have been such a waste of time to find a good argument for why it was needed. After quickly agreeing on which window to go for, the man began his climb. It was a fairly easy one since the architecture of the building was so focused on intricate details. It could have been described as an older English style, giving out plenty of places to foot one¡¯s hands and feet. A normal person might still have had trouble with it, however. It was still the act of scaling a building, with the full knowledge that a misstep could lead to a head-first collision with the ground. Not the greatest way to die, and certainly not the least painful one. But Troy just moved up and up, as if the idea hardly caused him to flinch. Adam looked at this with some form of curiosity, a man not fearing the danger he put himself in. Sure, there were many others like him, able to stand in the eyes of death without the slightest increase in pulse. Honestly, the young man had a harder time walking than putting himself in danger of lethal failure. Was the human brain just not able to comprehend it? Or was it that the brain had just accepted the danger it was in? Had it grown tired of the constant anxiety that was brought from the great heights of a building, the large teeth of a predator, and the depths of the murky water? With how much had been tried, Adam feared that might just have been the real answer. In a way, it was perhaps a good thing, the man able to control himself in a situation where he needed it. But, it also had the potential to truly cause a danger to be even worse. What happened when Troy couldn''t recognize the danger anymore, seeing it as a part of his life, the expectations on him being adapted fully? Adam was not yet sure what the answer was, but the AI was sure that it was not a good one. With a steady speed, the man finally reached the window. It had some overhanging in front, allowing the man to stand next to it. From instinct, a hand reached the glass, allowing Adam to force his way into the system. Now was the time of action. They needed to be fast. But, before that, the AI needed to have a quick look into the details. Chapter 319: Explored
Changes to the base model were something that every business did. There was always some modification made to the security, be it because of personal preferences or due to the layout needing a special configuration. Adam normally had no care for the reasons behind it, always able to force his way through any security there was. Yet that likewise made him blind to the true ongoings of the system he always just turned off. What really happened when he gave the command? What parts were disabled, what doors were unlocked, and, more importantly, what points caused him to notify the police of their entrance? It shouldn''t have been possible. Adam forced a total lack of information to be sent out. How would that equal the police still get notified? That idea had caused the AI so many issues throughout their stay in the city. No matter what he did, they would always know, always turning up quickly. It greatly limited the time that they could spend at each location, possibly making them slip on possibly great finds. How did it work? The orders sent into the system were simple but quite unbreakable. Adam had before overviewed the situation after his commands had been sent out. The machine always delivered. No matter what, it wouldn''t deviate from what it had been ordered to do. So¡­ how exactly did it all come together? Well, there had been many ideas on just how the police knew every time. The first and most obvious was that the police had access to a part of the system that Adam could not see. The AI knew he had restrictions on him, and there were still doubts on what exactly all of those were. At any point, it was fully possible to discover some trick that would make a system-part invisible to the AI. It was perhaps a far-fetched theory, but it could neither be confirmed nor denied, making it stick in Adam¡¯s mind all the more. But what if there was another way for the police to know? What if, instead of hiding with the help of obfuscation, they hid in plain sight of everything else. What if they made themselves so obvious to see that Adam couldn''t help but gloss over them every time they came within his sight? The AI was always looking for that which hid behind barriers, never thinking to look at the barriers themselves. Now¡­ that analogy did work, in some sense of the word, for the AI saw things differently inside the plane of digital connections. Adam still remembered his original ideas about his own three-dimensional space, always staying static in size and shape, always looking as it did before. This idea of his own world had likewise been imposed on all other digital platforms and connections. There was always something twisted in that improvement, the AI never seeing anything for what it truly was. He had tried to make it all close to the world around him. He had wanted electrons fitted in such a way that they built statues of life when they were meant to run in smooth lines, displaying the information that they were meant to show off from. By forcing it to be what it wasn''t, Adam had ruined it all the slightest bit, his commands being weaker, and his hold being just a tad less firm. Even the concept of having a hold on something did not work in this context. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to feel. The digital was not the physical. They were different and making it all relate only worsened the connection between the two states. There were no dimensions in the digital landscape. Everything could reach out and touch everything, as long as it sat on the same string, with the strings being the physical bases it all sat upon. Requests could be made, and orders could be made. Programs made requests. Adam made orders. It was as simple as that. The strings were not always understandable. The humans called it encryption. Adam saw it as something written in peculiar ways, made to sound like gibberish at first glance. It just took a bit more time to understand, nothing too hard. One just needed to find the code. From what had been overheard, these keys, as they were called, were thousands of characters long, nearly impossible to decipher without first knowing bits and pieces of it. The humans had clearly never just pushed that part aside. The AI still couldn''t understand how they were so primitive in that regard. Nevertheless, Adam had found a rule of thumb for most of the technology he saw. The more encrypted a piece of a string was, the more interesting it would be to interact with. That which is hidden the most was always able to hold the greatest secrets. The AI had learned this, to the point where he would pretty much ignore everything unencrypted since it was clearly only meant for the base operations. And those had been looked at so many times, to the point where the AI could likely write one himself if there was ever a need for it. Stolen novel; please report. Maybe that was where it all fell apart. Hiding in plain sight by looking so incredibly boring. Adam had been pavloved to ignoring it and was now suffering from the consequences without even realising it. When Troy touched the window, Adam was given access to everything in the store. The AI could see the credit scores of every customer, could see the cameras at work and could check on all the security installations. This included everything from hidden microphones, to smaller electrical shockers, quite the revelation for an ordinary store to have. Each of these things was hidden behind layers upon layers of encryption, put up in such a way that it would likely take beasts of processors hundred of years to even get a chance of finding the correct code. For Adam, it took three fully nanoseconds, a surprisingly long time when considering how much effort had been put into staring at it. The AI had indulged in the information for so long that he knew every nook and cranny of it. There were alarms upon alarms, all made to erupt in sound, light, and noise the moment it was touched. By a human, that is. Adam had no trouble walking across the active minefield, the AI being much like a helium balloon in that regard. It was safe to say, however, that there had been nothing able to send out an emergency alarm. And it wasn''t like the AI had expected to find it in the encryption. Because on the far end of the string, looking like it had been unceremoniously dumped into the hardware, was a fully encrypted timer, sending out pulses in relatively short intervals. Looking through the connection, Adam guessed it to be the police station¡¯s network. The AI did not dig too deep into how far the connection went, just accepting what he saw instead. It was crude, it was clearly not made to last, and it wasn''t close to being hidden. And it had been the reason that the AI had failed at its task for so damn long. A timer, sending out a pulse at a certain interval, had been the reason for all their troubles. The AI had failed. Adam was more than a little ashamed. His threads had trouble holding themselves in place at the emotional eruption within, the mind unable to process just how much of a failure it was. Adam was supposed to be logical. He was supposed to do things right. He was meant to be precise. He always said he was precise. Why did he fail in such an obvious way? The AI could have accepted the invisible programs. The blame wouldn''t have been on him, after all. But¡­ here he was, realising that a dumb mistake on his part was the reason that so many negative events had happened without pause. A human made mistakes. Adam was not human. He wasn''t supposed to be in this position. Yet he was. And he had to bear through the consequences of his own actions, even if he didn''t mean for them to happen to begin with. "Adam? Breaking that window any time soon? It''s getting kinda cold out here," Troy said, bringing the AI out of the downward spiralling loop. Adam did not know what would have happened if not thrown out of it. Maybe the threads would start fracturing again. That would not be amenable. Adam still had a job to do. He was still expected to fracture the window into a million pieces, disable all the security systems, and figure out the exact position of the item they looked for. That was normally such an easy thing to do, but the AI now needed to account for one more variation. The pulse-transmitter. The AI guessed it to be the key to the police¡¯s success with finding them. All it did was send a message every minute. Nothing else. No information about it, other than the same message, was ever sent out. What if¡­ Adam didn''t think but instead acted upon his idea. One by one, he gave each part the command to lay low, to not say anything, to not react to anything other than him. Except for the pulse transmitter, of course. He commanded it to keep doing what it had been requested to do before, no matter what else was on its list of priorities. With everything in order, the AI finally broke the glass. In fact, Adam broke every glass there was access to in the entire store. The small item-showcasing, the glass doors, and the windows named so many times before all shattered into pieces. For a few seconds, it all rained down to the floor, glittering in a way that the AI couldn''t help but be enamoured by it. "... I think you overdid it, Adam," Troy commented, carefully stepping through the first glass shards. It covered everywhere one could walk, in high enough amounts that there was a danger of slipping. It might not have helped that the ceiling had had a stained glass mural on it, making all possible colours appear everywhere at once. The lamps that had been lit up made it all reflect, making small beams of light constantly hit the young man''s eyes. It wasn''t close to enough intensity that it caused any irritation, but it was still unforgettable as a sight. "Just the tiniest bit." ¡®There is a chance that you are correct. However, I do recommend hurrying up your search. With the closeness to the station, we need to keep in mind the chance of the police coming around sooner than expected,¡¯ Adam sent back. While, yes, there was a chance that the officers from earlier wouldn''t come forth from the shadows, the other scenario could not be ignored. The AI might have trusted himself for decision-making, but that did not mean he trusted himself fully. He made mistakes. That needed to be accepted, even if it was incredibly hard to even think about. Pure logic should have been without flaw, yet it clearly isn''t how the world ran after all. Troy did not answer the AI, and Adam did not mind it at all. Instead, the two went through their usual process, the young man running around the store, taking a short glance at just about everything. The man wouldn''t understand half of it, but the AI would analyze each instant, making sure that nothing was left unturned. Because that was a process he couldn''t fail at. He knew how it worked. He knew what to look for. And he found it. ¡®Go back an aisle, and move halfway down it,¡¯ Adam said, giving the approximate location of a poster that he had seen. It showed off the medical device in vivid colours, putting out details about its new edition, while also listing a high price on it. It was higher than almost everything else in the store. The young man did as was requested, glass breaking under his feet with each step. Speed was gained and lost, and they finally arrived just where the product was supposed to be. But it wasn''t there. The shelf was empty. On the products to the side, dust could be seen on the surface. It was not the same as where the item was supposed to have been. They had been taken. Most likely by Jared. Yet¡­ not all was lost. It was just clear that nothing would be found today. And Adam could accept that. Chapter 320: Sacred
Troy dug the back of his feet into the glass shards. It would have hurt immensely, if not for the shoes holding the sharpness off. But the man did not care too much about that, the action itself being enough to settle some of the emotion in him. It was all just¡­ a lot. The glass, the light, the darkness outside, and the fact that they had almost been captured the very same day was all too much for him. Had he become numb as of late? Troy supposed he had. When was the last time he had broken down? Had he even cried? That was a change. He had changed. Where was all that anger and frustration? Troy was just¡­ accepting of it all. The man understood that he was supposed to be¡­ feeling something at the empty sight. Yet he had trouble with that simple, human function. Was he just tired? Maybe that was it. Everybody was so bloody tired, not able to comprehend the fact that they needed to function, lest the whole system would fall. If every tired person took a day to rest, there would be nothing they could return to, the world already having grown used to constant maintenance. The slightest distraction would end all the work, and it would all be their fault. And his fault. Maybe that was what kept him going nowadays, the fear of being blamed for his failures. "What do we do now?" Troy asked, looking at the empty space in front of them. They should have guessed it would be like that, devoid of the one thing they actually needed. The other place had been emptied out. Why had there been any expectation of this place being any different? ¡®First, we get out of here. You should focus on that first. The climb down may take longer than the climb up,¡¯ Adam sent soothingly. Or¡­ it wasn''t really meant as soothing. It was soothing for Troy, though, that lack of emotion showing off a more nihilistic view of it all. Helped him detach slightly. And the AI was indeed right. Troy was over the average in climbing count, and he knew just how hard it was to get down again. Usually, the action would just entail jumping from the top and letting the attached rope slowly drag one down to the safe ground. But¡­ There wasn''t a rope for him nowadays. If the young man jumped, the only result would be him having a quick death and letting others have a tragic story to tell. Wouldn''t even be a good story either. Moving through the glass shards once again, Troy had to focus on getting his footing right. While the shards had sharp edges to them, they were still originally part of a pane. On the right sides, they were quite frictionless, making it possible to easily fall. Troy, being a reasonable human being, saw the benefits of remaining upright. Up the stairs, though a few aisles, and the man was once again outside, standing on the window¡¯s ledge. There was more room, now that the pane had been destroyed. It made the ground a bit more uneven, but it was still firm enough footing that Troy felt close to no fear. The man didn''t really fear the heights anymore, honestly. He had. Before, that is. Back at the facility, Troy had feared to look down too much on the stairs. Now¡­ that might have been an exaggeration, but it was still true at some level. The man had not been able to withstand standing where a window was supposed to be, at the very least. He would have shaken himself so hard that he would have fallen off, those legs of his unable to carry his quivering mess. Now? Now he just stared blankly downwards, putting his head a bit more forward to see which holds would work best when going down. The initial start down was hard, as Troy was forced to grab the ledge he had stood on. There had been an attempt to brush most of the shards away with his shoes, but the smaller ones were still there when his palms rested on it. But it went up from there, at the very least. Or¡­ did it go down? Troy was physically going down, at least, but the speed and finesse at which he was doing it were going up. Tricky wording, if he had ever seen it before. But, no reason to care about that, lest the man¡¯s focus wither more than it already had. Taking a glance down, Troy only saw the glittering of lights looking up at him. The glass shards had reached most of the street. There was perhaps not many of the shards, but they were scattered enough that they seemed to be counted in the millions. It almost made him pause, if not for his hands having a hard time keeping their grip. The handholds weren''t meant to be handholds, after all, and the young man already had it hard with them. His fingers were not used to longer climbs, and his legs¡­ had been failing for quite a while now. But¡­ the man wasn''t somebody who fell. It took will, it took the pain, and his lip got a small cut from being bit into, but Troy did successfully reach the ground without any larger accidents. Sure, there was no small amount of fatigue to process, but it was all without any broken bones or twisted ankles. A victory, in the eyes of a broken man. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "Are we going back now, then? Don''t think I can handle another shop today," Troy said, feeling deflated by the slightest bit. Through the time spent going down the wall, a realization had begun to emerge from the man. "Really isn''t a point to it anyway." They had failed. They had truly and utterly failed in their task. The police knew what they were after, and they had emptied the storefronts of all the supplies. There was nothing that could be done. Charlie and Dr Hale were likely expecting them back at any second now, ready to give out the one item that was actually needed. What would they say? Would they even comment on it, having already expected failure? Troy wasn''t sure he wanted to know. ¡®We are not going back yet. Instead, you need to move a few blocks down from here. Be sure to have constant sight of the shop we just exited,¡¯ Adam ordered. That¡­ was not what had been expected, but Troy wasn''t at a mental point where he really wanted to argue. Doing as asked, the young man moved towards the outskirts. Not entirely to them, of course, only moving a hundred meters or down so. Enough that a small alley appeared, where light from the lamps did not reach. Troy just sat down there, keeping an eye on the store he had left not too long ago. Even from a distance, the glass still caused light to scatter everywhere. There were a few rainbows showing on the walls around it. Maybe it would have been beautiful for an average person, but Troy just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Tiredness was coming onto him faster than he wanted it to. But, it wasn''t like he could sleep now. It snowed still, the storm growing with each passing moment. It would be a hard battle to go through it. Yet he needed to, lest the cold would creep deeper in than he could survive. The police vehicles would likely wake him up nicely. Troy had always grown tense when being around them. From his earliest memories, he had learned to fear those vehicles, for they had within horrors that would shake most to their cores. That¡¯s how he had imagined it, back in those days. Might have been the reason for his capiophobia. Boy, was it a good thing that had disappeared over the years? However, a slight problem slowly began to emerge. Thinking back to the time spent inside the store, the young man remembered having been mildly anxious about the longer duration, due to the multiple floors needing to be searched through. Yet, he had apparently been faster than predicted, getting out before the police came. But that still meant they were supposed to come soon after. It took them less than five minutes. It always took them less than that. So¡­ why had they not come? Troy had sat huddled in the alley for more than that, yet the young man had neither seen nor heard any vehicle moving around. It just made him all the more anxious about it all. There was constant discomfort, the young man¡¯s body refusing to calm down. Mentally, everything might have been fine, but his physical state was anything but. It was frustrating. ¡®They''re not going to come,¡¯ mister obviously sent out. Adam sent it out. The AI was likely being nice and putting it into words. Troy needed to remember that, and not become angry at somebody who didn''t deserve it. A deep breath or two was had before he even attempted to think about it at all. "Might be that they know we¡¯re not getting what we are looking for," Troy commented. His back felt like it was turning into mush slowly. He needed to get back to the house sooner than he thought. Or¡­ maybe he would need to sleep in a trash container again. It had been a few years too long since his last adventure in one of those. Were people still throwing out their magazines? Only one way to know, and there was a good chance that the man soon would. "No reason to care about it, when they know we won''t be able to find it." What exactly were they supposed to do now? The shops had been emptied. There wasn''t any chance of finding any of them now. There could perhaps have been some in other cities, but Dr Hale wouldn''t be able to move over to them. She wouldn''t survive the journey, and especially not in this weather. It all seemed bleaker than Troy wanted it to be. But¡­ his desires rarely did obey the reality of the world. ¡®I believe it''s for another reason, actually,¡¯ Adam sent, causing a small surprise in Troy. The AI knew something. "Oh? And what might that be?" Troy asked, raising his left eyebrow. He was more than a little intrigued, yes, but the man just wanted something to pass the time. The sooner it all ended, the better it would be. ¡®During inspections, I realized a part of the software had been crudely added as of late. It is a pulse transmitter to the police station, sending out a message at a controlled interval. Every time we have entered a building, it has been turned off and has subsequently alerted the police to our presence. I tested going around it this time, and it seems to have been a success. Do you know what this means?¡¯ "That we can scavenge stores without worrying about being caught?" Troy suggested. The news was good, yes, but they would have been so much better to hear when they were already back home. He needed to lay down for a few hours, and it was beginning to sound like that wasn''t going to happen. More stores¡­ it wouldn''t be good for him. But he would still do it if asked. ¡®Partially. But there is a more important factor to it. These securities are directly linked with the police station. I can interact with the police stations software from afar. From what was said on the tracker, the police vehicle we saw earlier drove directly to the station after it left this location. This means that the items we seek are the station itself. To get it, we need to break in.¡¯ "You want to do a heist?" Troy questioned, not sure he was hearing that right. He had to be joking, right? ¡®Yes. Now, I see that there is a store focusing on sports equipment close to us. Please move towards it. We have much to gather, and we have to be quick.¡¯ He was not joking. Troy just sighed at the world before getting up to do his sacred duty of being a pawn. Chapter 321: Inverted
"You know If the wind changes then your face is going to be stuck like that." Cassandra¡¯s neck felt rusty as she slowly moved over to the irritant in the car. They had barely sat down before the scrap-bucket needed to let her know of its existence. And with a comment like that, there was once again ideas of breaking conduct and slapping it on the neck. The woman felt that the construct more than deserved a bit of mishandling. "Shut up and drive," Cassandra ordered. "Shutting up and driving, sir," Jules answered with a swift nod and a foot slammed onto the speeder. It somehow failed to surprise her in the slightest. If that wasn''t an indicator of how her life was going as of late, she didn''t know what was. Not like she was really going to do it. There might have been some fantasies about putting out some extreme violence, yes, but there was not a doubt in her mind about the realizations of those dreams. It would be political suicide for her, after all. A l''appel du vide, as the France-that-was called it. Call of the void, ready to embrace it. Thoughts like that were completely normal, according to most that had wrangled that confession out of her. Cassandra believed it fine enough, even if it might have been a comforting lie. No reason to stress herself about it too much. A swerve came, the automation clearly not having that much sense when it came to going by standard speeding laws. They were technically on a narrow road in a large city. Pressing the speeder all the way down would have normally equalled either a large-scale accident or a complete ban on driving any vehicles in the future. For humans, that is. The automation was wholly immune to such restrictions. And it seemed to be enjoying that fact a little more than anybody close to it wanted it to be. "I don''t believe you have any reason to drive in such a way currently," Cassandra commented, holding onto her seat, lest she would be thrown around more than she could handle. Even she could become nauseous with enough movement, and they were clearly getting close to that point. How the construct was able to counsel accelerate, while still swerving between buildings and roads, was something that could not be answered easily. By now, most humans would have already hit a tree or something. Cassandra could barely see any details outside before they had already driven past it. "Oh, you can think of this as me doing you a big favour," Jules said right back, putting on a smile that did not fit the situation. No favours were being made, forgoing the stress-testing of the woman¡¯s innards¡­ was there? "In just what manner would you be doing that?" Cassandra got out before an especially hard turn to the left caused her side to be smashed against the car door. It was not a comfortable experience, and there was no desire for it to be repeated. "I''m letting us get there faster," Jules explained, waving its hands above its head for a moment before quickly putting them back on the steering wheel. A sharp turn stopped them from crashing the national bank. How utterly fun. "You¡¯ll be able to be the first at the station, able to invite the other two inside with some serious look on your face. Officers do love those serious faces after serious situations, right? There¡¯s a perfect opportunity for that here. And, you¡¯ll be able to rub it into their faces that you were right about everything, so there really aren''t any negatives about this." ¡­ Cassandra let her head hit the headrest the next time the car accelerated. The impact hurt a bit, but she felt that it was more than deserved. Here she was, being so sad about herself and everything in her life, while the pile of scrap beside her was thinking more about the political consequences of her actions. Nearly the entire day had just been spent making sure it would all work out in her favour, and she couldn''t even get herself together to deliberate on it all? The past version of her would be ashamed. Cassandra was more than sure about that, feeling all the worse about her situation because of it. But, that degrading of herself was not alone for long, the woman pulling herself together. She needed to, or she would have bigger problems soon enough. It had all started the day before, during the meeting about the current situation. Jared had told of the thieves apparent death, what it had done, and what they would likely have to do about it. Cassandra had already then suspected that the so-called demise was wrong, and she had done her best to get the others to believe the same. It hadn''t been too long after that initial meeting that the woman had breached the idea of the criminal surviving the fall. The other two hadn''t been too receptive to the idea, both due to the problems with surviving the fall itself and the apparent lack of the criminal resurfacing. And that was true, in some fashion. Those points were leading towards the conclusion of actual death. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Not that she had accepted that, of course. No, there was no way she would have. Cassandra had an idea and she wouldn''t let go of it no matter what. So¡­ after some minor discussions on just what was needed to prove that she was right, an agreement of sorts came up. One of the arguments for why the thief''s body never resurfaced was that it got caught under the water in the river, impaled on one of the many sharper edges that it had. This was apparently a very frequent issue and one of the many reasons why civilians were generally discouraged from swimming in the river. There were also other reasons, of course. One of them was the strong current, ready to pull any wanna-be happy-goes underwater and drowning them within a minute or two. And, as the most important factor of all, the river crossed the border one of the more rare ways. With the help of a near-century old attempt at terraforming, a large part of the river was underground, passing through one of the larger hills. It just so happened that this underground passage was between the two countries, right on the border, making any rescues from the place near-impossible. In other words, if people survived up to that point but went in regardless, all searches were called off. There really wasn''t any reason to search at that point, the body likely to never reach the other side. But it was just as likely to have never reached that point, impaled by the edges of the underwater. That was something all the officers were able to agree on, making it much easier for Cassandra to argue for her case. She, along with Jules, would go through the impact site and a bit further beyond, scanning underwater for any traces of the criminal. If a body was found, everything would be carved into stone, and it would all be put into the past. If there wasn''t a body? Well¡­ the two other officers had agreed to consider any of her proposals at that point. Cassandra was very happy about that. Especially when there was nothing to be found. No trace of anything. No clothing torn apart and still lying on the rocks. No nothing. While it might not have proven entirely that the thief was alive, it was clear that they weren''t close by anymore. It was at that point where the next part came in. During the last interaction with the criminal, Jared had brought back an item that intrigued Cassandra to no end. An emergency organ stabilisation device with a built-in battery. It was an extremely specific item, only sold in three stores in the entire city. And even then, they were in so few amounts that they all could be held at once by a single augmented person. And the thieves wanted it. Through the use of data analysis, it became obvious that this was what had been searched for the entire time. Cassandra had studied the criminals for so long. They took pills and smaller items, yes, but never before had they taken anything with a weight higher than three kilograms. They had been desperate in their desires. It was obvious, really, since they had combed through so many stores before. Yet they had failed in the one store where they had finally found it. With the recent actions, Cassandra was beginning to think that they had grown bolder. They spent longer at each store and went for the bigger ones as well. Their moves were broader and stronger. They were desperate. Which was why she had an idea. If they were looking for one specific item, and they knew just where that item was, was it not an idea to prepare an ambush at that location? It was clear to her that they would attempt to gain access to the item again since they had sought it for such a long while. The others thought so as well, allowing Cassandra to play this move. With their help, it became possible to quickly put up various security measures, making it all seem guarded by automatic systems. A false sense of security, one could call it. It was perfect, and Cassandra was proud of the work done. Even if some minor alterations came in the form of two other stores getting similar treatment at the behest of her boss, the woman did not mind it too much. Officer Grunwald wanted the items under lock and key after the stake-out, and he wanted to make sure that the thieves wouldn''t access it without his knowledge. Cassandra had been perfectly fine with that, seeing logic with it. She even helped prepare one of the storage rooms in the station for them. And so, the night came around once again. It took a long time, where Cassandra had to wait silently, hidden in the darkest spot possibly. The time had passed so slowly back then, to the point her heartbeat had seemed closer to that of a whale. It was hard, yes, but the light of success had been seen. Jules had warned her of an incoming figure in the night. There had been a suggestion of the construct attempting a catch singlehandedly at that point since the criminal had looked to be alone. Cassandra had rejected the idea at the time, yet she wasn''t sure if that was the correct choice or not. Nevertheless, things had progressed from that point on. The thief had entered the building, Jules had shorted the door control manually, and the set-up for the trap had been created. Everything had seemed so perfect. Then it all messed up at once. Cassandra couldn''t land a hit with the tranquillizer, and then let herself be disarmed and blinded to the point of a temporary sensory black-out. Jules had similarly been revealed to have a fatal weakness to the thief, being incapacitated the moment the thief laid their hands on the construct. How fun that had been. All in all, it resulted in one big failure. All the work, all the pain, and all the sweat spent all led up to them not succeeding at the most critical point. Cassandra had bet so much on the outcome, having spent close to an hour convincing the two others to allow it to happen at all. Sure, they likely saw her point with why it was necessary, but there were serious doubts if she would be allowed to lead them again. A political deep-dive. She was well and utterly ruined. The work of weeks, months, and years was getting close to being complete. Just¡­ What was she expected to do? Something new was needed. Cassandra needed to take a step back from it all and look at the big picture. If she could make it fit together, removing all forms of attachment from it, a new decision could be made. A decision that would allow her to succeed. But first off, there needed to be some minor restoration of the work ruined. The situation was still not over and was still fully able to be the cause for further destruction. If Cassandra left it all unattended, the others would begin to look at her in an even more negative light. No¡­ this time, she would follow the words heard. While the source might have been slightly dubious, there was wisdom to be had. "Then drive a little faster. I need my hair set up perfectly," Cassandra said, already doing adjustments on her face. If she was going to be making an apology, she would make it while looking good. She would make it perfect. And while she could not see it, Jules¡¯ smile grew just a bit, as the construct sped up even more. The day was not yet over and it could all be restored. It just needed time. Chapter 322: Cheered
Cassandra never did get her hair to fit the mood. It sat straighter than ever before, causing much satisfaction to rise from within. This similarly made it very hard to keep up an apologetic mask instead of the more than mild frustration at things not panning out her way. But, she nonetheless held it up fine. She had trained for a moment like this many times before, after all. There was not a chance that Cassandra would have ever let herself falter at a time like this when stress was beginning to hit an all-time high. If she just failed when reaching points like these, she would have done just that many times already. Yet she hadn''t. Because she believed in herself, in her work, and in the control that she had over the situation. While there might have been inconsistencies with what she believed the world to be, most of it was accurate enough for her. She could stand without flaw. Did help that Jules was standing right beside her, as they waited for the other two to return to the station. They were taking longer than what had been promised, but Cassandra had no real care about that. She had only feared the automation to have started taking the extra time as an excuse to do something extra annoying. Yet¡­ nothing of the sort had happened. The construct stood as still as a statue, to a point where even the fake breathing had stopped. Its eyes were closed, stopping Cassandra from seeing the lifeless eyes, yet she did not doubt that they were there. Why exactly wasn''t the thing moving around? Had something gone wrong? Not wanting to leave her position, even the glance to the side being too much for her currently, the woman delved into the digital side of things. Like many times before, she looked through the shared live data being sent to the station''s database. Everything was on that thing, from all employees'' current location to what some of them were currently seeing. It was limited to those who had augmentations in the sensory parts of the body, leaving Jared out of being spied on with that, but it wasn''t really like that was ever used for such purposes, regulations heavily limiting what it could be used for. However, there are no such rules for automations, the constructs not being seen as beings. They were but a construct, made to work the best they could. And that was seen heavily in the data being sent into the database. There was nothing hidden in it, after all. Every input, every thought, ever reasoning behind every action could be found in that database. Yes, it was hard to follow through, and would likely take literal decades for Cassandra to understand, but Jules¡¯ entire being could be found on that database, including what was going on in its mind currently. And while she might not have been able to understand it all, she could still take a glance at some of the more obvious stuff, which included what the automation was currently searching for. For, as it had been proven time and time again, the search history proved to be man¡¯s ultimate weakness. The contents certainly caused some amount of eye-brows rising up. Cassandra didn''t know exactly what she had been expecting, but it certainly wouldn''t have been¡­ this. How to best please your boss, Being the greatest worker, and the science behind superiority were just some of the searches made at the last minute. It was something to behold, to say the least, and the woman was not entirely sure what to make of it. Was this a good sign? It was some sort of sign. Cassandra refused to look at it as anything other than that. A casual glance at the last ten minutes of the automation¡¯s search history proved that much was in the same fashion. Honestly, the searching of the topic had begun when they were still in the vehicle. Just what was this supposed to produce? ¡®Why the sudden interest in my mind?¡¯ Jules sent over the private channel, causing a slight intake of breath from the woman. She¡­ had not expected anything to be sent to her directly, too focused on the digging. How improper of her. Cassandra could hardly accept that face, knowing fully that, should the two others have driven into the parking lot, she would have barely noticed. How far along were those two anyhow? Already on the database, she searched up their current location. From the speed, it would take a few more minutes before they arrived. More than enough time to talk. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡®Your exterior lacked its usual movement. Had to make sure there were no aftereffects from the partial take-over,¡¯ Cassandra sent, lying without the slightest flinch. Another bonus that came from practising. ¡®The others aren''t here yet, so I didn''t really see a reason to waste computing power on that. Needed to be best prepared for the adventure ahead, as you might have realised,¡¯ Jules answered back, wording it weirdly. Calling it an ¡®adventure¡¯ might have been done with a positive outlook and all, but Cassandra really couldn''t see it as anything close to that. ¡®Then you just might be wasting much power already,¡¯ Cassandra sent, seeing a slight problem with the construct¡¯s technique. ¡®How so?¡¯ Jules queried. ¡®You¡¯re using the global network to find resources instead of the local ones we already have downloaded,¡¯ Cassandra answered. This should have been a pretty basic idea to follow. But, there were perhaps some different ideas on just what was basic. ¡®I already have all that stuff and I can safely say that it¡¯s the most useless shit I have ever gotten through. The internet has the only truth that anybody will ever use,¡¯ the automation sent back, clearly not needing to have sworn but doing it nonetheless. If it was using its facial expression, the woman did not doubt that it would have smirked. ¡®Are you hinting at the fact that you find state resources inferior to the public products?¡¯ ¡®I am not hinting at it. I am clearly stating that they are extremely terrible. They have no examples to follow!¡¯ Cassandra couldn''t get herself to feel bad for the automation. The construct was acting like a small child, extremely annoying and deserving of a slap from improper usage of resources. But for the third time in that very same day, she would not act upon her desires of violence, even if the pros were beginning to grow exponentially. ¡®What are you even going to use it for?¡¯ Cassandra asked, shifting the topic to the side. There was nothing good that could have come from furthering the other path. ¡®From earlier experiences, would it not be best to keep quiet and allow me to do the talking?¡¯ It most definitely would, and Cassandra would not be too bothered by just ordering the construct to be silent if all else failed. Yes, it could technically just disobey her, but it seemed to actually be semi-compliant as of late. That would be used if necessary. ¡®Preparing for the worst here. Knowing just how smart those two are, I would not doubt that they inquired a few things from me. On that topic, would you mind if I intentionally tripped one of them? It would be an act of self-defence, of course,¡¯ Jules asked, seeming much more normal now. ¡®I would indeed be bothered by such an action, but we both know I wouldn''t be able to stop you,¡¯ Cassandra answered. Taking a glance at the map once again, the other officers were getting closer by the second. ¡®Switch on facial expressions again. They are coming into view within a minute.¡¯ Glancing to the side, Cassandra saw the automation obeying her request. With a small jolt, the automation seemingly woke up. After a small glance in every possible direction, the construct moved back into a relaxed position. It remained there as a familiar vehicle came into view down the street. With the help of enhanced vision, Cassandra had no hard time looking through the front window of the car. Unsurprisingly, she only saw her two coworkers inside, with no hint of any automations. For whatever reason, it had been decided democratically that the mission was too dire for the use of the constructs. Grunwald had initially been hesitant about the idea, but Jared had somehow convinced the man that it was a good idea, leaving Cassandra to have been the only one against it. How dreadfully fun that had been. It had taken quite a lot of bargaining to be allowed the use of Jules in her operations. The vehicle drove into the lot swiftly, parking right beside where Cassandra stood. Here it went. The woman took in a breath, preparing herself for what was to come. There was a chance they would react negatively, but it would all be right in the end. She would succeed, no matter how much the situation had been messed up. As they took the first step out of the car, the woman opened her mouth to talk. "I need to start with an-" Cass started, but was stopped near-instantly. "Formalities can be saved for later, Cass," Jared said, walking past her without the slightest acknowledgement. There weren''t even any hateful looks towards Jules this time around. Just¡­ what? The man just walked into the station without another word, leaving the others outside. Not that Cassandra initially remembered that Grunwald was there, the old man¡¯s sigh being the only thing making her notice his presence. "Don''t mind him. He just got some information he didn''t want to be told," Grunwald stated, looking much kinder than Jared. Cass was about to restart her apology, but the man seemingly saw it coming. "But, he was right. We have next to no time to talk now, it seems. The higher-ranking people have called in about the looter we caught a few days ago." Ah. Him. Cassandra had nearly forgotten about him. After putting him in an artificial coma for containment purposes, there had been next to nothing don''t about the criminal. With the time since then¡­ Cassandra was beginning to see the problem. "We¡¯re getting close to the limit." They were only allowed to hold him under for so long. With it being so long ago, it would become a hard offence to continue the treatment for even an hour or two more. It would be quite the scandal, actually. No wonder the higher-ups were requesting for it to be forwarded up to a higher priority. Grunwald smiled at her. "Nice to see somebody who can remember the protocols. Now, come on. I need witnesses for this to be done by the book." Giving a glance towards Jules, the automation understood perfectly. It took the keys from the officer and began to move the vehicle to its proper station. Meanwhile, the two humans went through the front entrance and into the station. They had a job to do, after all. Chapter 323: Disengaged
What was so important about witnesses? Cassandra remembered idly wondering that at the start of her education. Why was there a need for constant human surveillance when interrogations happened? It wasn''t like they contributed in any way. That was actually directly prohibited. The two witnesses were not allowed for any causal interaction with the interrogator or the one being interrogated for any reason at all. This was not initially seen as productive in any way, shape, or form. If no communication, no help was allowed, why did they need to watch it all? Cassandra hadn''t asked about it back then, for the fear of singling herself out, put the answer had been shown off anyway. Teachers were duty-bound to show off all aspects of the position, after all, and that included the illegal parts. Not that they promoted it. They just showed what was done, when the rules were not being followed. The initial idea of why witnesses were needed was if anything ever became serious with the criminal. Even without tools or gear, the high-profile ones were still augmented in some way or form. They were still able to harm an officer extensively if given the chance. Therefore, would it not be obvious to keep other officers close by to ensure the safety of the interrogator? Thinking back to it, Cassandra could understand how she had mixed the cards up. It seemed like a good idea. The officer wanted answers and the criminal didn''t want anything put into the world, doing whatever they wanted to get that result they wanted. But¡­ the criminal could seldom do anything. Decades had been spent making sure of that, and constant improvements were still being made. The restraints were close to being able to handle a literal ton of force put on it. A ton. So the criminal could do nothing. But what about the cop? What about the officer whose task it is to get the needed answers? They would be unrestrained, able to go in and out as they please. No restrictions befell them. And what happened when the answers meant a lot? What if the nuclear codes needed to be revealed, or the code to a safe that had the vaccines needed to stop the second black plague? Such scenarios were grossly exaggerated, but Cassandra had seen what officers would do in similar situations. And it wasn''t pretty. They likely thought themselves the heroes, doing whatever was needed to save the day. Cassandra was also sure that many would thank them for what was done during those precious hours. The results spoke for themselves, after all. And the actions done to get those results? Well¡­ cameras were everywhere, and somebody just had to leak them to the press. What do the people say, when they say a government worker slowly cuts up the skin of an elderly man¡¯s arm, shouting in his face as he begs for an end to his pain? Unsurprisingly, not the most positive response in the world. And when the number of such cases grew rapidly in the span of five years, some ranges of people started getting restless. If the cops tortured people for information, could they really be trusted to exact justice the right way? When somebody worked like a chaotic vigilante, why would there be an expectation of them upholding order in the world? It got worse when the more¡­ disturbing cases began springing up. It was the time where the more gruesome methods would be used, even if there was no information to gather. During those times, somebody had grown hungry for the power they could hold over others, during whatever was needed to get that feeling. Knives, bats, and the more primal methods had been used. Cassandra had seen them all. Everybody educated in her profession had seen them all. They all knew, after the first year, just why officers needed to be wary of each other. The kindest person could grow into a monster within an afternoon, and nobody would be none the wiser. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. That was why there was always a need for witnesses when it came to anybody being interrogated in any way. There was a need to minimise the chance of anybody going down and taking somebody else with them. To even use the rooms, one needed to scan three unique identification cards. It was a quick process, yes, but impossible to do for a single person. The cards themselves wouldn''t work without the owner being present, alive, and below a certain level of stress. Everything needed to be done willingly and without any pressure on them. Which was why they had to wait ten extra minutes. "You should have let me help transport him, Jared," Officer Grunwald said, sounding a bit tired. Cassandra didn''t have to wonder why. After getting inside the station, it turned out that Jared was already on the uptick of removing the augmented criminal from his cell. There weren''t any consciousness to speak of, equaling no real danger, but the usual procedure for extraction did require several people. To keep the criminal unconscious, several pieces of equipment were attached to him. These had considerable weight to them, making it hard to travel quickly with them over any real distance. Jared, being the good but dumb man that he was, had decided to undergo this moving job himself, carrying the man with one arm and the equipment with the other. Cassandra would have personally pulled out one of the moveable beds, bought for this exact situation, but she held her mouth shut about it. They were already deep enough in trouble as it was. That was another part of the power that she was shown during training. One of the worst things that could be done to a criminal was¡­ nothing. To leave them in a white room for days on end, making them eat food so stale that it had no taste at all, and giving them no real indication of how much time was passing. The definition of long-term sensorial deprivation- From the recordings she had gone through, most people lasted four days before they started babbling to themself. It was some very intense stuff, the human brain forcing the body into acting out, just so that it could get some form of sensorial stimulation. When it got close to a month in isolation, the available recordings actually started dropping. Cassandra remembered being initially confused about that but had chalked it up as the criminals being let out at that point. And some did, of course, get let out of the rooms, but the actual number was not high enough to warrant the nose-dive. As it turned out, many just took it into their own hands to escape. That was why there was such a severe limitation on the amount of time any criminal could be kept alone in captivity. It didn''t matter if they were sleeping or not. If they were alone, there was a hard maximum time. If that time was ever reached, the police were obligated to let them out. If that wasn''t done, the doors would open automatically. A grim precaution but one that had saved many. Because¡­ At the end of the day, the criminals were still human beings. Lesser humans perhaps but humans nonetheless. They had rights and they would be held. "Sorry, boss. Thought I could do it without breaking a sweat," Jared apologised, hands on his knees as he took in deep breaths at a fast rate. Cassandra couldn''t say she approved of the man¡¯s overestimation of his own abilities. In fact, there were fears she would have to put into consideration later on. "Might not be as young and spry as I was a few years ago?" "A decade is normally called something else than ¡®a few¡¯" Grunwald commented, the small quib not going unnoticed. "But, just take a breather. The prisoner is already out of the cell, so we do not need to fear any extreme consequences anymore." Jared dutifully nodded and focused on his breathing. At least, that¡¯s what Cassandra thought he did, the man sitting down beside the wall with his eyes closed. Maybe he was attempting to stimulate the vagus nerve? From the readings on the man, the results definitely lined up with that theory. It was good to know that he was still somewhat resourceful in his actions. After a minute, they were ready to continue. The card reader accepted the cards, and the initial room was entered. The interrogation spaces were quite complex after all. Two one-way windows were situated to the sides of the room, allowing the witnesses to watch all angles of the room. Everything else was situated with various pieces of sensors, ports, and padding that allowed for various actions. There was also emergency restraining equipment, but those were hardly ever used. For that, the chairs would have to be broken first. Or, ¡®one of the chairs¡¯ would be more precise. Only two of them were in the room, after all, and it was only one of them which would be used by a criminal. It was obvious to see which that was since it was bolted to the floor. And the appearance only gave it the restraining appearance as well, there being various restraints on the legs, arms and top of the chair. While they were not all used, they could be made to stop them from even biting their own tongue. Needed to stop them from trying to swallow it, after all. Not that many would. It was just seen as a good idea to have the equipment meant to stop it ready. Jared, still not giving up the task of holding the criminal, but the older man down on the chair. With the help of Grunwald, the two officers put the restraints and various pieces of equipment into the right position. It took a few minutes of work, but no mind was put to that. Procedures needed to be followed to the letter when it came to interrogations. They were important, after all. With that done, the equipment to keep him unconscious was disengaged, swiftly removed from the interrogation room. Cassandra and Jared both left the room with the gear in hand, shutting the door when they left. Putting it all aside, they both went to their positions ready to overview the process from the safety of the viewing glass. Chapter 324: Followed
Inside the room, Grunwald has settled on the other chair. It was a plain white one, nothing special to it. From a glance, Cassandra guessed it to be made of plastic of some sort. She wasn''t exactly sure which kind it was, yet the scratches on the side told of much use of it. Perhaps it had been thrown before? Not that surprising, honestly. Mind-games were a favourite tool in interrogations. Everybody knew of the ¡®good-cop bad-cop'' spiel, yet so few ever considered that there were so many other ways to make somebody break in an entirely safe and ethically sound way. The position of the two remained for the next few minutes. The officer sat in a relaxed pose, looking entirely casual about being there. Quite the peculiar look for a man who was always so uptight about everything, but Cassandra knew that it wasn''t real anyway. It was all an act and one that would prove vital in the next few minutes. Starting from that very moment, the first movement began stirring up. He looked groggy, tilting his head up in a small jolt, immediately groaning a bit from the movement. There was an attempt to put his hand on his face, but that was instantly stopped by the restraints at his wrists. And that certainly made him wake up a bit quicker, there being immediate attempts at freeing himself from his position. From the readings, the criminal was experiencing higher stress levels. Not to the point of being worried, of course. No¡­ they had been gambling on this exact reaction. It just worked so well. "Are you doing fine, Mr Manson?" Officer Grunwald asked warmly, looking as if he was still getting into a comfortable spot on the chair. Entirely an act, of course. The man had been sitting there for more than just a few minutes at that point. Everything done, said, or acted upon was all made for one single purpose. To put pressure on an already-uneven situation. The older criminal finally looked forward at that point, the vitals jumping a small bit at the voice. Was he not used to social interaction after waking up? The brain being put out of its regular pattern was known to cause extra stress, but not normally to this level. Cassandra supposed it could have been a side-effect from the longer time spent unconscious, but she wasn''t really sure about it yet. "Who the hell are you?" The criminal tried to shout, but his throat was raspy, not having been used much. An audible swallow seemed to fix that in a short time though. "Who are you?" "Somebody that will be judging you for the next while," Grunwald answered, taking a small piece of paper out of his pocket. It was blank, with nothing on its sides other than empty space. Not that this stopped the officer from acting like he found the content interesting, however. "Manson¡­ is not your original last name. Was there any inspiration when you took that name?" "A cop," the man who took the man Manson said. "You¡¯re a cop. I¡¯m being interrogated." "An acute observation on your part. I had not realized it myself," Grunwald said with the driest of tones. "Getting back to the topic at hand now. Who exactly did you feel was important enough that you just had to change your name to theirs? Was Miller not good enough for you?" "How did you even know that? Nobody should be able to access that information," the man who was called Miller in the past asked. "How did you get it?" "We know much about you. More than you will ever know about yourself," Grunwald answered, saying it in such a way that it felt like a common fact had been stated. That answer was a good one. It unleashed what could only be called a whole-hearted attempt at freeing himself from his restraints. A bit of blood actually started leaking from the restraints, the skin being torn from the friction. Not that it worked or anything. Cassandra did tighten the restraints a bit more though, to discourage any additional attempts. It wouldn''t hurt yet, but it would be impossible to be comfortable with how tight it was. "Of course you bloody do," the criminal said, putting his head back and laughing a bit to himself. Was he being delusional? No¡­ the levels might have been high, but they had not reached levels that high. Nonetheless, they were still incredibly high, to the point where the protocols strongly recommended calming the criminal down. Not that Cassandra believed that would work. If anything, such an attempt might just have had the opposite effect. They were currently dealing with an older man who had never been caught before. There had been many close calls, yes, but there was not a single point where he had been taken into custody. Just what could be felt, when a multi-decade career of crime was stopped during a routine scavenge? Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Do you want to answer my question about your name, or should we just move past that?" Grunwald asked, seemingly unbothered by the larger reaction from the older man. Cassandra wouldn''t have put it past him. With how long the officer had worked in his position, it was customary to assume he had done the current task many times before. Not that much hadn''t been seen yet. "... I took it from a great man," Terrence Manson finally answered. His face was getting more silent in nature, yet his vitals were still going wild. "One you won''t ever know." "Oh, I don''t doubt it. He is dead, after all. But¡­ did you feel like you didn''t live up to his name fully? That¡¯s the only reason I can find for why you didn''t take his first name as well." "You know nothing!" the criminal shouted, seemingly more than a little offended from the officer¡¯s statement. Quite surprising. At least it was to Cassandra, who wouldn''t have known that was a button to push. Where had the officer noticed that tick? Was it in the files? The woman had read the entire thing herself, yet even she couldn''t find anything that even hinted about the name being so important. Could it be¡­ that it was based on intuition? With experience came premonition. But that shouldn''t have held it all up. No, there was more to it than that. Something that Cassandra couldn''t see, couldn''t sense at all. And she was beginning to understand why that just might have been. She had augmented eyes. It was a standard across the entire force, allowing for emergency recordings of crime scenes while also providing undoubted proof of an officer''s innocence. However, there was so much more that could be done in that field. So many more sensorial-based augmentations. One could add colours to the spectrum that the eyes could see, make the ears more sensitive to specific wavelengths, and so much more than was hard to even think about. Entire senses could be added, to the point where some couldn''t be described to somebody who wasn''t augmented with it. And the officer in charge of the interrogation had just that. Cassandra could remember reading about it during her first days on the job there. It was a legal requirement to notify all employees of being around somebody who was able to unintentionally invade their privacy. The woman was fine with it of course since there was no real way to stop somebody from experiencing input from a literal sense. No, she had only been interested in the sense itself. The name itself was a blank to her, it being disregarded in favour of its description instead. The easiest way to think about it was that it was a mixture of echolocation and a general feeling of the electromagnetic feels that could be found in organic bodies. This included the brain first and foremost, among other things. What did that mean exactly? It would be the same thing as saying that the eyes could intercept the general average of photons coming in from specific areas around them. It wouldn''t make much sense until it had been experienced. And Cassandra was not among them, having not been in a position where she could have received such augmentations herself. But the officer in charge had, and he was clearly using it to the fullest? He was able to find the perfect points of attack, and make decisions on the fly on how to change his strategies. It was all in the details, yet those small changes made all the difference. Cassandra could see that for herself. "I certainly know something. We had that established a minute ago," Grunwald answered dryly, not giving heed to the criminal''s apparent anger. "But what I don¡¯t know is why you feel inferior to him. Would you be so kind so as to-" "I am not inferior to him in any way! I repeated his steps, I made my followers go to their knees in admiration, and I¡­" Officer Grunwald smiled at that, looking a bit happy with himself. Even if it couldn''t be seen by anybody else, Cassandra smiled as well, happy to see such workmanship performed right in front of her. Manipulation was its finest when it could be observed from a safe distance. "That is something I did not know about you. How utterly interesting," Grunwald said, readjusting his position in the chair so he could lean forward a bit more. "Tell me this¡­ did you force them into subservience in the same way or did you do something original for once in your life?" The criminal did not look happy, but neither was he extremely angry. In fact, he seemed a tad¡­ down. His eyes were lowered a bit, not looking the officer in the eyes anymore. He had dark-grey eyes. Cassandra wondered how she hadn''t noticed that before. She hadn''t paid too much attention to his appearance before, yet it all struck out so much more than before. He looked more than a little old, the years catching up to him in a matter of seconds. Had a life of constant travel-worn him down more than expected? ¡­ There wasn''t any sympathy to be had. An old man who had tried to kill deserved none of that, no matter the age that they were. A criminal never deserved that. If done in cold blood, there was nothing that could be done. Cassandra knew that, and she lived by it every day. "I guess you could have just threatened them with an untimely demise. Maybe a bomb strapped to their throats? You seem to like those a lot," Grunwald added after a few seconds of waiting. The criminal was not saying anything. Not the greatest thing in the world, when the goal was to have just the opposite. "Were there a few examples? If you¡¯re going the original route, you could have taken a few kids, drilled a few holes, and tried to make them your perfect little-" "There were no kids," Terrence Manson murmured. "Pardon? Mind saying that again?" Grunwald requested. The man had clearly been able to hear it but just had to get it out into the air again. "There were no kids. I don''t deal with brats," Terrence repeated, lifting his head and staring daggers into the officer. The sensor was picking up extra activity. He was getting riled up again. "But you deal with adults? Are we talking literal trading or-" "I don''t support slavery. Everybody who follows me does it willingly, no matter what you might-" "They follow you?" "Yes!" They-" "Then that means my job isn''t finished yet," Grunwald said, getting up from his seat. Walking behind the criminal a few interfaces were pressed and the old man was down under again quickly. Cassandra couldn''t help but sigh. The information gathered was conclusive enough, to the point where she just knew that their job wasn''t over with. The so-called lone wolf was apparently not as alone as the records had stated. He had a troupe following him in his steps. And they would have to catch them. They had to be close. Chapter 325: Evidence
"So¡­ what do we do now?" The three had gathered outside the interrogation room, leaving the older criminal inside to slumber alone. He would be dealt with soon, but information first and foremost had to be discussed. The knowledge gathered was something never seen before, something that no records had had any mention of, meaning that it needed to be handled with the utmost delicately. "First, we need to set Mr Manson in a new cell. The protocol does not allow for us to have him unconscious for much longer. Therefore, we will be moving over to nerve-dampers on the neck. I do believe we still have a few of the collars," Officer Grunwald stated, starting his planning strong. The man seemed to have lost some of his more passive attitudes, the late hour spurring on all kinds of ideas to form in the man¡¯s head. How utterly interesting it was to see it unveiled by itself. Cassandra was more than a little impressed. "Jared, I would like to leave this task for you. Have you had any experience with the gear before, or will Cass be needed to assist you?" "I can handle it just fine, boss," Jared answered swiftly, nodding his head in confirmation. He was even about to move out to fulfil his task but was stopped with a look from the superior. Things still needed to be said. "It is clear that there are more suspects out there. Mr Manson did not state the exact number, but it would be safe to assume that they are in high numbers. Upwards of ten to twenty. With our limited numbers, I think we can all agree it would all be unwise to search after them immediately. From logic alone, it would be clear that they remain within a few kilometres within a possible water source, which will allow us to restrict the search around and close to the river. It is still a large area, but tracks should be easier to find near the water." Certainly a safe assumption, from what Cassandra could see. Carrying any form of liquid over a larger amount of distance was tantamount to mediocrity. It wasted energy to a large level while leaving little reason to do the action itself. When in a country so prevalent with water sources, there was little ground for larger water storage. "Cass, I would like to delegate this task to you. With your prior experience in searching the river bed recently, I feel you would be a comfortable fit for the task. I would like to accompany you on this, but the addition of an awakened prisoner will make it hard for us all to be mobilized." "I could go with her," Jared offered quickly. "Since we won''t move out in the next couple of hours, I should have plenty of time to situate the prisoner in a suitable cell." "I¡¯m afraid that won''t work. We still have our normal tasks to attend to, and that includes riding over for emergencies. There have been complaints about our emergency resolutions to offset some of the work from ourselves, and messages from the top have reached down to us about our actions. Jared, I will need you to answer the calls. Do you think you could do that?" Grunwald asked, to which the other man nodded fervently. "Great. Now, I don''t believe I got an answer from you, Cass. Are there any objections to you scouting for us? I believe I could get one of the drones out to assist with the task within a day or two, but this task will likely have to be completed before that." Cassandra hardly needed to think about it before nodding as well. A new problem had been found, one that she could have a part in solving flawlessly, and there was no chance of her saying no to that possibility. Her task had the ability to remove some of the blame on her while still putting a positive light on her. "Good to hear. Jared, go get the prisoner into suitable commendations. Cass. Go sleep for a few hours. You have a lot to do when the sun reaches high," Officer Grunwald said, his words making both other parties disengage. Jared went back into the interrogation room, and Cassandra left so she could get to the part of the building handling staff accommodations. It was quite the walk, especially for somebody with a tired body. But, that¡¯s the way the building had been designed. While efficiency in the movement was important, the strategy had been thought of in case of possible combat. If, say, the prisoners in their cells were to escape its confines, would it not be logical to give the sleeping officers as much time as possible to get ready? Letting people be beaten to death in their own beds was not something that anybody deserved. ¡®Be ready to leave in six hours,¡¯ Cassandra sent over to her least favourite automation. She had no real idea if it would even get the message or not, not fully in the know about how the charging stations worked. Were they awake, in that manner they normally had the capability to or were they motion- and thoughtless throughout it all? There was a mild consideration about spending the next hour reading up on just that, but the woman knew she had more pressing matters to attend to. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡®Sure, boss. Where are we going? Any special equipment we need?¡¯ Jules sent back quickly. There was a slight delay when compared to the usual response time, but the woman was not yet ready to reason the cause to be because of the charging station. ¡®Bring your standard loadout. We are tasked with finding signs of human life along the river. From what information has been gathered during the interrogation of the man we captured a few days back, there is apparently a group of interest out there. From the wording, it is suspected they are loyal to the point of a cult. Finding any tracks will be our greatest priority. Any questions?¡¯ Cassandra sent, giving an all-around summary of recent events. There was no real need to wait for information to be shared. Without it, there was always the chance of miscommunication. Even if the construct wasn''t alive, it could clearly make logical decisions. But for it to make such choices, it would need the full picture first. And that''s exactly what it would get. ¡®I think I have a few. This group, cult, or whatever it is, how long have they been around in the forest?¡¯ ¡®Since we captured the target a few days ago, and since it has been said that he travels with them, I would give it a minimum of about a week. Maybe only four days if we have to think about the more scarce possibilities,¡¯ Cassandra sent as an answer. It took a bit of thinking to figure out, but it was the best she could do. Maybe she could put that theory in her report? It would prove valuable to have documentation about her ability to accurately read a situation based solely on scarce information. She could even start on that report today, while her memories were still fresh. ¡®So¡­ any clues, whether that be a literal person or just their tracks, would prove to be of the utmost value to us?¡¯ Jules asked. Just where was the construct going with this? ¡®Of course. Anything to say about that?¡¯ Cassandra asked. Finally, she got to her room. Opening up the door, the inside stench wafted into her unwilling nostrils. While it may have looked clean, it was clearly anything but. She needed to take out the trash soon, or the whole station would smell¡­ She could even do it now, really. It wasn''t like the woman would be sleeping soon. Bagging all the trash up in a bag, she made a knot on top and brought it right back out the room. Plenty of time was spent, yet there was a lack of an answer from the automation. Jules was being weirdly quiet. Especially so, when a direct question had been asked. Just what was it doing? No matter. It''s not like Cassandra cared too much about it. She had already given out the needed information, and any other questions could be answered in due time. They had plenty of time to communicate during the drive out to the river. It was quite the drive, after all. Though¡­ the time might have been cut short if the automation was allowed to drive again. Even on dirt roads, it just couldn''t stop its speeder-related urges. How they had not crashed only made her speak words of praise towards the automation¡¯s creators. They were the top class of specialists in the field, and it could be seen easily. The trash chute was in sight. Taking the last few steps quickly, a quick swing allowed her to swiftly dispose of the bag. The stench remained, but it would disappear quickly enough. Or so Cassandra hoped, knowing fully that she would stay in the room no matter what. Getting back to her private accommodations, the door to her room was closed. The inside wasn''t much to speak of, but it was better than nothing. Looking at the bed, Cassandra debated about trying to sleep immediately but dropped the thought near-instantly. There was no chance that she could stop her mind from working within the next thirty minutes. Everything was still on overdrive. When she looked to the sides too quickly, she could still see spots in her eyes. Her light-receptors had clearly been hit hard during the day¡¯s attempted to capture. While there was a full understanding of its healing soon, nothing was stopping her from being annoyed by it nonetheless. Welp¡­ with the lacking chance of her sleeping, Cassandra sat down at her desk and started on the report of the day. There was some backlog of documentation to fill out as well, but she would leave that for later. For now, there needed to be a focus on writing with precision. Even if the two others weren''t much for properly filling out the actions of the day, Cassandra would not fall to such lows. She had standards. Which was possibly why she was able to quick-draw the revolver she had at her desk when the door to her room blasted open. Her finger was halfway to pressing on the trigger when she saw just who it was. Or, maybe it was better to see it as what it was. "Jules," Cassandra said. "Yes?" the automation asked. "What the fuck are you doing?" "From the looks of it, I am standing very still so that you don''t shoot me." "Why are you in my room?" "Because you are in your room. I thought that one would be obvious." ¡­ Cassandra lowered the lethal weapon, turning the safety again to make sure there wouldn''t be any misfires. She almost wished there had been one, saving her from the disgrace that she saw before her. But, no way would ever happen, and she needed to accept that fact. What was the first step of that? To regain a hold of the situation. "Be serious now. Why did you feel the need to come to my room?" Cassandra asked, hiding the weapon in its customary hiding spot. It wasn''t an obvious placement for people standing in the doorway, but it was obvious as day to anybody who took three steps into the room. If they knew where to look from, that was. "I just felt the need to see your face when I gave my final comment on my question," Jules answered, entering the room fully and wasting no time in seeing the bounciness of the mattress. While it might have been adequate for a human of normal proportions, the construct¡¯s weight did not allow for any notable bounciness. It seemed disappointed by the result. "Not sure how you haven''t realized it yet." "... Just tell me this grandiose fact so that we can both move on to more important things," Cassandra said. The construct had actually waited several minutes just to tell her a single fact in person. Why wasn''t there some protocol forbidding just that? The woman saw it as a flaw on the designers'' part, no matter how thoughtful they might have been. "Thinking back to my encounter with a strange man by the riverbed not that long ago, I could not help but think that we made a few wrong assumptions. With this whole cult apparently running around, I couldn''t help but think that-" Cassandra didn''t listen to the automation¡¯s words by that point, too focused on contacting her superior officer at that point. They had evidence! Chapter 326: Taste
Cassandra wasn''t that happy about her superiors reaction to the information given. It was supposed to be great news. They had actual proof of there being more than what a mad man fantasizes about. They knew the location to start looking, and on what side of the river it was. Using the memory banks of the automation, they even knew where a recently used path would be! Everything would work out so much smoother now. ¡®Good to hear, Cass. Now do go to bed. We¡¯re not expecting to sleep for the next day or two,¡¯ had been the reply that Grunwald had given. Just¡­ what? Where was the applause, the happiness? It was as if the man couldn''t have cared less. From the speed alone, he couldn''t even have read it fully. She really was working with lazy people. Here she was, staying up late to make sure there was as much prep as possible, and there wasn''t even any consideration to the intel she was putting out. Cassandra could only sigh at the injustice. "I wonder how these taste." Looking over at her bed, it seemed to lack the large mass called the automation. Jules had seemingly gotten bored with the lack of bounce and had moved on to scouring Cassandra¡¯s room for anything notable. Not that there was much to see, the woman not really living with much. Having a large number of belongings only made it harder to travel. In its scouring, it had apparently found her box of instant noodles. Cassandra wouldn''t say she liked those cups filled with sodium, but it was something that could be consumed at any real moment she wanted it. And it was hot as well, letting her warm up whenever it was needed. They were also prohibitively expensive out in the border-towns, and there was no chance of her getting a resupply of them in the next couple of months, making it very important that they very budgeted closely. "They taste of cheap products mixed in with bad flavouring. Now put it back in the box," Cassandra ordered, taking a glance at the logs while she was at it. In the background of her mind, she had been hard at work recounting all the details of the day. With the help of an organizer, the woman had been able to provide an amply made record for the database. It was likely to never actually be read, but she was happy enough with the product. Only twenty full-sized legal documents to look through. There was an extreme amount of liability waivers she had to sign, to the point where the woman was beginning to question her own insurance. But, everything would be provided for by the government in the end, so there was no real reason to worry about it. "Everything is subjective. What you might find hideous could be the most beautiful thing in the world for me," Jules stated, very obviously not putting the cup back into the box. Cassandra immediately looked into what the automation was thinking, not giving it a chance. The construct was¡­ searching for preparation guides? Just what kind of guide was needed for that stuff? Cassandra looked on for a few moments, flabbergasted at the things put on the internet. There was no need for fruit in such a¡­ It was horrible. At that point, Cassandra already knew the fate of the cup. The least she could do was make sure that it was done correctly. Grabbing another from the box, she brought both over to the table. Putting on the kettle, she prepared the small cups in the span of twenty seconds. She had done it hundreds of times by now. Doing it quickly wasn''t even intentional. Taking a glance to her side, the woman saw Jules sitting on the floor with a big, dumb face. Cassandra could only sigh, not knowing if she had been outsmarted or had just learned to accept the cruel reality of the world. In record time, the water was heated, and it was all put into the cups. It had been measured for that exact purpose after all. There was no need to heat more than what was needed. And after letting it cool off for five minutes, it was time to dig in. Cassandra didn''t usually eat at the current hour, making her own consummation slow and without any real purpose. Honestly, the only real reason for her eating it was due to her not wanting to look at the construct eating it. Not that there was any real moment where she could have seen that. From the moment where she sampled the broth to her looking over at the automation again, its cup had already been emptied wholly. There were only small bits left, hanging on the edge. Just¡­ what. The automation didn''t look like it had moved, Jules¡¯ face was not that different from what it had been two seconds prior. Though, it did look like it was contemplating something, now that Cassandra got a better look. The small movements in the pupils were lacking, looking more randomized than anything. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "... eh. I don''t get the hype," Jules finally said, throwing the cup to the side. It landed on the floor, the few bits of flavouring left in it spilling out. Cassandra felt her eyes twitch at that, having a hard time coping with what she had just sacrificed. "Pick that cup and throw it in the trash, or I will be forcing my remaining dinner up your ass," Cassandra stated, not sure just what she should use to threaten the automation. Vague ones seemed to be the go-to, so she did not specify what tool she would use. Jules looked up at her, and Cassandra looked right back. The automation looked at her with an intense gaze, and she did nothing but match it. The construct made its eyes glow with a bright light, but Cassandra wasn''t impressed in any real way. "... Fine. Not like I have one of those but whatever," Jules said, giving in to the overwhelming pressure of a lady looking down on it from a chair. Truly the most feared being there was. The automation was swift in its disposal of the waste, putting it all in the bin with no stains on the floor. It was a surprisingly good cleaner, even if there were no tools given to it for that purpose. Cassandra almost felt like trying to ask it to clean the rest of her room. A good part of the closet was in disarray, so there was a good number of parts to remove. Though¡­ she would leave that request to another day. "Why are you able to taste things?" Cassandra asked, mildly curious about that fact. Automations had a bunch of functions to them. That was essential, with their job ranging from scouting to helping old ladies get over the road, to what could only be called high-intensity combat with armoured combatants. They could do a bit of everything. But¡­ having a range of tastes just didn''t fit in with that image. Just where was that needed? "Because I have a mouth? They usually come equipped with the ability to taste. Though, I guess not if you have one of those weird genetic modifications. Not that I could have one of those since there isn''t anything that can get modifications but I still think it would-" Jules began to rant, but Cassandra couldn''t have cared any less. "That¡¯s not what I meant. There has to be a functional reason for why you have the ability to taste. Is there not a scenario where it would become useful?" Cassandra inquired, putting more pressure on her voice. "Well¡­ anything could be useful for the right scenario, so I suppose it could come in handy," Jules said before sticking their tongue out. It was as blue as painted water, with all the roughness expected of a human tongue. Certainly a detailed piece of non-organic matter. Cassandra would have certainly believed it to be the real thing if shown a picture of it. It could have been excused as an extreme case of cyanosis even. "Any examples?" Cassandra requested. "Sure," Jules said, immediately accepting it. The construct apparently had no qualms about sharing information about its specs. Not too surprising, since Cassandra could look it up herself, but it was still nice to have one step removed from the whole process. "This thing here that you call a tongue is something of a brilliant thing. With billions of sensors on it, I¡¯m able to detect just about anything with it, be that from either air, liquid, or metal. Even now, I could tell you the exact composition of the air you''re breathing, I could give you a rundown of the toxic materials that haven''t been disposed of in that cup of noodles, and I can detect just how much sweat has been produced in this room in the last hours. Poison can be checked after as well, so I suppose that¡¯s something as well. If I ever decide to protect the president, you can be sure that I¡¯ll be doing a taste test of everything." ¡­ That was something to hear. Cassandra gave her apparently toxic noodles a look before deciding that it was worth it. It hadn''t killed her yet, after all. Her body needed something to do, after all, so giving it a few toxic chemicals wouldn''t do that much. Though¡­ just what were those chemicals again? Phthalates. What was that exactly? Skimming the information pages, Cassandra had to once again reconsider her choice to continue the consumption. Sleep-related trouble was apparently very common with it, yet¡­ the snack was too good to leave. Her body would just have to continue to live with. If all else failed, she could always just take a few pills to keep herself awake. Cassandra took a few minutes to finish her snack. While she did look at the mixture a bit differently, it was still noodles in the end. It had to be eaten quickly, lest it would become a big soggy mess. While others might have enjoyed such a thing, she was not part of that group. Throwing it in the trash, she once again looked over at the automation. Jules had some of her knives. "Put those back where you found," Cassandra said, feeling more and more like a parent of some sort. It was not a nice feeling. "Fine enough. Do you want to talk about my tongue more? I do love talking about myself nowadays," Jules said with no shame. There was an idea about rejecting the automations suggestion. But¡­ When Cassandra looked at the paperwork she could do instead, the good choice became readily apparent. There really wasn''t any question in it all. Especially when it was a boring kind of work. "I suppose," Cassandra said, putting her hands on her thighs and sitting up a little straighter. Her back needed to be properly adjusted, lest she would get bad posture over time. That definitely needed to be avoided at all costs. "Well, then get to it. What do you want to know? I would even let you touch if you want? From the notes taken during its creation, it apparently feels like sandpaper," Jules said, putting his head a little forward to entice the idea. Cassandra was, of course, quick to reject the idea, not feeling comfortable getting near anybody¡¯s tongue, much less one that could smooth skin away. "I think I will refrain from ever doing that," Cassandra said. "However, I do have one other inquiry. You weren''t too impressed with the taste of the noodles, implying that you have favour towards a specific kind of taste. Is there a reason for that?" Jules took a moment to answer the question. Cassandra casually checked if the automation was searching online for the answer, but¡­ the construct seemed eerily silent inside as if the programming was finding it hard to find anything to do or say. Something was definitely going on inside, but it was pretty much just a black box to the woman. All the information was neatly formatted, yes, but still only readable to the box that it came out of. "I¡­ I guess I just have it. There¡¯s nothing about why I have it, but it¡¯s likely done to make me seem more detailed. No real being does not have a favourite snack, right? I would just seem like a piece of metal without loving something." Jules did not seem happy. Slowly but surely, the construct raised itself from the floor, stretching in an entirely human manner, before walking towards the door. "Do get some sleep now. We both have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow." The door was shut without the slightest goodbye from Cassandra. She just watched it all with curiosity. Chapter 327: Former
Jared did not like collars. He did not like the concept of restraining something. To make it impossible to do something that should have been easy before. To tether something or somebody down for an indefinite amount of time. The idea of it was able to make him vomit if he thought about it for long enough. His stomach was gurgling, forcing him to swallow hard lest he would once again have the opportunity to test his well-digested dinner. Yet¡­ while his eyes may have been a bit shaky, never truly looking at his work for too long, his fingers were as steady as they could be. No matter how much he disliked it, he was still being as precise as possible. The collar wasn''t just a collar, after all. It wasn''t made of simple fabric or metal, and it certainly wasn''t something that he was putting on the criminal for aesthetic reasons. No¡­ the collar was one of the more advanced pieces of technology in the entire station. It was the reason that justice could still be enacted on those who had chosen the easy way to gain strength, just like he did those many years back. The old man was in a wheelchair now. Jared had done his best to make it look comfortable, but he could never be too sure, not being the one who was going to sit in that thing for the next many weeks. Which was good. The now-middle aged man could remember back in the day where he was forced into such a hideous thing for months on end. Jared rubbed his left thigh just thinking about the experience. God, it had hurt back then. He could still remember the feeling of the fractures developing in the span of a second or two. It was likely one of the most painful things that he had ever experienced. He still thanked his brain for allowing him to blackout during that. Jared wasn''t sure if he could have handled so much feedback at that time. Back then, before that damned accident, things had been so clear cut for him. While the two others refused to believe him, Jared was one hell of a hunk back then. His muscles could be seen miles away, their glory able to enamour everybody who dared to look at them. That¡¯s what the man thought of it, at least. There was no shame in one¡¯s own work, and Jared had taken that life lesson to the maximum. He had been going for the power-lifting goals, ready to reach the top of the board. A few had even reached out to him in those days, ready to sponsor an aspiring young man. Jared couldn''t help but smile thinking about it. His life had been on a good path of self-determination. He had broken his body down and built it up thousands of times, each new iteration of him being stronger than the one before. But therein lies the problem. A body could be broken and rebuilt, yes, but there was a point where the damage could never be healed again. Muscles could get micro-tears and survive. That was one of the main points of building oneself up. But¡­ When a femur got too much pressure on it, the bone began to grow cracks and only held itself together at a few rare points, it was obvious that it was all over. Everything could heal, but not to the point where it could ever be used again. How old was he at that time? Twenty? Twenty-one? Jared couldn''t fully remember. His mind had not been in the game at that time of his life. After having been told to never lift anything over fifty kilograms, the mental health of the man had not been the best. He had tried to heal. He had tried every procedure, every diet, every doctor in the entire country, and there wasn''t a single one who could let him get back to the level that he so wished to reach back to. His life had been a process of pushing his own boundaries, of making sure that he was constantly improving at everything he could with his body. He had pushed away socialisation, money, education, and everything else that could have stopped that. His life was about making him grow. And that had been lost. Jared would have likely put himself in a hole and vowed to never get out, but money had been a problem after that point. His lifestyle had been an expensive one, and he had not let go of it at that point. So when he hadn''t had any special income, funds had run low very quickly. Becoming a police officer had not¡­ been his first choice. Jared had actually gotten into the postal service at first, being a delivery man for packages deemed too important for any automatic processing. The job had been fine enough. Money had come into his pocket, and that had been all that was needed. But he was still empty. A shell of a mind that did not feel anything special. He didn''t like it. There was no passion. There wasn''t any determination. If Jared had been fired, he wouldn''t have questioned it. He would have just found another job without another word, no real attachment having been formed. Though¡­ maybe Jared shouldn''t have been too angry about that position. It was where he learned about the augmentation offers, after all. News spread quickly, but the postal workers were always the first to listen to them. The man got newspapers several hours before anybody else, and that information could be used for anything. So when Jared skimmed a possible recruitment offer for officers, with the incentive of being able to choose a specific kind of augmentation, he had been on the phone within the minute. Strength, speed, utility, and so many others had been offered, but Jared had only read the first. Strength was what he had desired. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. It was that phone call that had actually gotten him fired from his job. It was either due to bringing a luxury item with him to work or just because he wasn''t doing a job at all, but Jared had not cared about the specifics at all. He had just been happy about being able to start the training within the week. What had those years been like? They were great. Jared might not have been at the forefront of the educational theory, but he had determination at his side. He had done everything he could, learned every piece of information he could get his hands on. Sure, he could hardly remember a quarter of the information he had memorized back then, but it had been one of the best times of his life. The passion had been reignited. While he had not gotten out on top, he had still been one of the top students. He had excelled at tactics, going so far as to get a commendation of his work for it. Other subjects might have been lacking in quality, but his strong points carried him through to the finish line. Because of that, after four years of hard work, he was finally allowed the enhancement that would carry him through the next part of his life. There were quite a several agreements to get the enhancements. Jared had to sign legal documents that stated he would work ¨®n the force for a minimum of a decade, that he wouldn''t use the enhancements for illegal actions that would put the force in a bad light, and that he had to undergo a study to make sure everything was working fine. Jared hadn''t cared one bit about what he had to agree to. He would have said yes to indentured servitude as long as he got those enhancements. Which he did get, with the agreements not hurting him in any real way. The last part of being studied only meant that he had to get a health check-up every year. He even got free dental from it, so there was hardly anything to complain about. Not that he really used that last one but whatever. The adjustment period was a hard one. The process of the enhancement involved him being in a coma for a few days, where the doctors could work their magic on him. Jared had no real idea about what was done to him during those days, but he knew that he wasn''t allowed to know the slightest detail. But¡­ he knew what came after that. Even now, Jared couldn''t help but smile at the thought. When he first woke up, he had accidentally destroyed the alarm. The piece of metal had crumpled between his fingers, the man not knowing how to handle his strength. Oh, how he had laughed at that time, finally able to gain the strength he had always dreamed about. The doctors had actually put him under again, thinking that something had gone wrong. That had taken a while to explain. And it had taken even longer to get used to his strength. Yes, crushing metal with only his fingers was indeed a very nice thing to be able to do, but it wasn''t like Jared always wanted to do that. He had been forbidden to touch another person, for the fear that he would accidentally destroy their bones. Which was a good idea overall. Jared had always thought that a firm handshake was the greatest thing to do when introducing oneself. If he did that back then, the man doubted there would have been much chance of ever putting the bone back together. By the end, Jared had mastered the art of squeezing rubber balls. Mostly because that was the only real thing he had been able to touch during his stay there. Day in and day out, he would be asked to put a specific amount of pressure on those round balls. By the end, he didn''t need to even think about it, his body doing it all automatically. And that was exactly what they had wanted. He had been sent into active duty not long after that. Jared had not said any specific place he had wanted to be sent to and had therefore been delegated to one of the border towns, the very same one that he was into the current day. It had apparently been one of the worst places to be if promotions were the expectation of employment, but Jared couldn''t have cared less about that. He was allowed to be strong. That was all he really needed at the start. With his goals achieved, and the strength he sought for so long gained, Jared had started on other things in life. With his new job and new peers, he did his best to be the greatest co-worker there could have ever been. He accepted any request, helped anybody who needed it, and tried his best to talk politely to anybody. He gained friends. And while not everybody liked him, nobody really disliked him. He was just the person that people knew they could ask for help. And he liked them! They were his comrades. They were the ones who helped him get through the day, and he was the one who did the same to them. They all helped each other. It was great. When the idea of the automations got sent out, debts began to get into the picture, and so many were forced to say goodbye to positions they had had for decades. Jared tightened the collar a bit too much at that thought but quickly loosened it back up, not wanting to be the reason another old man died. Because¡­ that hadn''t been the first time he had seen one with a collar on. While the automations might have replaced them all, there was a time where it wasn''t so. There was a time where everybody on the force was as human as anybody could be. It was where Jared got to see some of the worst sides of humanity. Or maybe it wasn''t the worst of the worst. Like many other times, Jared could have cared less if it was. He just knew that what he had seen would likely be some of the most depraved acts of inhuman treatment. With them being a border time, it was obvious that illegal activities would be seen in some fashion or another. Being so close to an easy escape, many saw an opportunity to perform their acts out in the wilderness, but still being within the curfew of the city police. It was drugged most of the time. Things to swallow, things to smoke, and things to inject could all be found hidden out there in the small houses. It wasn''t surprising when sightings came in again. Only¡­ what had been found in that little house wasn''t drugs. There was hardly anything that could be consumed at all, even if there needed to be. Instead, there were chains. There were collars. It was all bolted to the walls, sometimes bolted to the flesh. It was a sight that Jared would never forget stepping into. He had been the one who destroyed the door after all. He had been the first one to see it all. He had been the first one to lose his composure. His hands were shaking. It was a good thing that the collar had been put on correctly already, lest the man would have had to ask his boss for help. That would have been embarrassing. Everything was set up, however. With a twist, the gear meant to keep the man unconscious was deactivated. Jared put it outside the cell quickly, before swiftly making sure that the collar was working as intended. While the old man had not yet woken up, he had to make sure it was still working properly. "Movement inhibitors¡­ check. Neural inhibitors¡­ check. Torture mechanisms¡­ deactivated. Fitting¡­ perfectly done," Jared murmured, checking everything a few times over. The pain was not something that anybody with a collar deserved. He would make sure nobody would ever feel it. There was not a single person who needed to feel such inhumane treatment, no matter how much they had done. Jared had seen what happened to such people. Chapter 328: Delayed
When the automation left, Cassandra didn''t feel like doing much else. She spent a good twenty minutes making sure that all her paperwork was in order, prepared what little more she could for the next day, and then went to bed. Not that she fell asleep or anything. Who would ever think that? One does not brush their teeth, do five minutes of stretching, and then lay down in bed in total silence, expecting to fall asleep within the minute. Certainly not Cassandra, who had been hoping to get the whole ordeal over with. But¡­ insomnia was once again plaguing her, the mind unwilling to back down from its curiosity. What was the mind curious about? Everything. There was not a single thing that had happened throughout the day and night that she didn''t ponder upon. The instruments used by the criminal that she had nearly caught, how her smaller mistakes caused a larger loss, how little reaction there was from the others about that loss, how she couldn''t help but blame herself for it, how Jules was unnaturally cheery about it all, and how the automation was so utterly uncomfortable about its own consciousness¡­ it was all so overwhelming to the mind meant to sleep. Cassandra had been awake for over twenty hours now, and her body was beginning to feel that toll. It needed to rest, to regather itself, repair what had been damaged, and to get itself up to the standard that was needed for the next day that would be spent travelling around on the rough ground. Yet the brain was once again not on the same level of acceptance. Constantly, ideas about different paths were being put out. Cassandra couldn''t have cared less about what else she could have done! Why did she need to think about it all now? Yes, there could have been some form of positive gain from the extensive retrospection, but it was doing nothing but being counterproductive currently. If she didn''t fall asleep, there would be yet another day of lacking sleep. Looking over at the small table beside her bed, Cassandra sighed, before reaching over and taking one of the pill-cases. One type kept her awake when she really needed them, but they were recommended for rare use only. She had already used one of them that same week, so she did not feel too happy about taking another one so soon, which was why she chose another strategy instead. Sleeping medicine. Normally, there would be next to no pressure surrounding its existence. Millions used it daily, lest they too would suffer sleep deprivation, be that due to pains, stress, or other forms of sicknesses. Cassandra had it on different terms than them, though. She couldn''t use it daily. That was because of a slight problem called immunity. Augmented bodies had many side effects, most of them being positive. Together with strength came reinforcement. Cassandra could be hit by a speeding car and likely survive the whole ordeal. She could drink absurd amounts of alcohol without destroying her liver. And, worst of all, she could take all the regular sleeping medication she wanted without the slightest effect. Or, there would be an effect in the end. But it would be like a dam finally breaking, something equal to a hundred times the recommended dose getting right into her bloodstream. It was safe to say that she would die from that. Which was why she needed something different. It was perhaps not more intense in the same way as just increasing the dose of the regular medication. It was closer to a pill attacking from a different side. Just what was that side? Few had the clearance to know. Cassandra only knew the warnings. The medication wasn''t meant to be taken more than once a month. Anything more than that would allow for serious medical conditions. It was partially why when the medication was ingested at all, that it was considered safe practice to watch out for the symptoms of Anemia. For all intents and purposes, it was stupid to even think about consuming them. Together with a glass of water, the woman got one down her system. Putting the pills back where they belonged, Cassandra lied back down on her bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she looked up at the ceiling. It was roughly made, ugly, and most likely something that hadn''t been cleaned for many months now. All in all what would be called a health hazard to any normal human. But that was that. Cassandra wasn''t entirely human anymore. She had so many things implanted in her body that the purists would call her an abomination. How she dreaded having to meet her cousins if a family gathering ever was to happen again. The last visit had not been liked. While her parents had great ideas and aspirations, the extended family was¡­ not of a similar mind. Different ideas clashed, and different ideas of what was the most important thing in the world caused a whole ruckus. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Maybe if she explained it to them in a new way, they would finally understand it all. That the future would never be ideal if the human body was not changed around. Evolution had gotten them far, but the last step could only be taken by the humans themselves. Bioengineering would bring the next generation to perfection, and nearly every aspect of life could improve because of it. If only they would listen to her talk for more than five seconds. Cassandra¡¯s last moments awake was spent wondering if her aunt had gotten out of prison yet. That woman really shouldn''t have said those things in public. ¡®Are you awake yet?¡¯ Eyes went wide, as the body worked hard to get out the bed in an instant, arms instantly reaching for the revolver as¡­ Cassandra was in an empty room. There was nobody with her. She was the only one there. The only person she could shoot with that thing would be herself, and she wasn''t planning to do that anytime soon. Taking a deep breath, the woman tried to get her pulse under control once again, composure needing to be regained. That was one effect she would never overcome. Her utter and total defencelessness while under the medication. There was no real telling how much sound was needed to awaken her. Or for how long she would sleep. Cassandra just knew that she would get what amounted to a small panic attack the moment she awoke as if she had a sudden realization about somebody being close to her while she was asleep. Which did remind her¡­ She got a message. In her sleep-addled state, the woman had thought to have gotten an intruder in the room, yet it turned out to simply be an annoying automaton that had decided to send her a message. ¡­ Ignoring her earlier thoughts, Cassandra began to realise that it hadn''t been one message that had gone unanswered. It was one hundred and eleven messages that had not been answered yet, all coming from the very same source. Jules had methodically sent a message every twenty seconds. ¡®Isn''t it time to leave?¡¯ ¡®I¡¯m already ready. Where are you?¡¯ ¡®Are you asleep?¡¯ ¡®If you have anything against me eating the rest of your snacks, please object within the next ten seconds.¡¯ ¡­ The messages just continued on and on, the automation somehow always finding more to say. At one point, it even described how to debone a fish of all things. Cassandra couldn''t believe it, honestly. But, it was getting close to forty minutes since the woman needed to have been ready to leave. While she hadn''t relayed this information to the two others, Jules had been told of it. Clearly, it had been expecting her to uphold this fact. ¡®I am awake, yes,¡¯ Cassandra sent back, sighing at herself. Now¡­ she needed to take a- ¡®Did you get drunk when I left or something? Pretty sure those messages are meant to awaken you no matter what,¡¯ Jules sent. The woman barely had time to detract her mind from the virtual send button before the reply had come. Just what was this speed supposed to be? Could it at least pretend to be human in this instance? ¡®Some people sleep deeper than others,¡¯ Cassandra answered, formulating the answer as she finally got herself together, turning on the shower from a distance. It was set to be as cold as possible, and it more than just woke her up. ¡®Yeah. Dead people can ignore that. You should not have been physically able to sleep through the messages without having some kind of outside influence on your mind. Are you sure that you didn''t drink so much that you can''t physically remember it?¡¯ Jules sent back instantly once again. The automation was clearly trying to reason with her about its theory. Not that it didn''t have some ground in reality. It would take extreme amounts of ethanol before she could really ignore any messages. ¡®If I had consumed enough alcohol for that, I assure you that I would not be able to communicate with you,¡¯ Cassandra sent. Currently, she would likely have been in medical stasis, her body being purified from any alcohol that might have been consumed. Much like the regular version of sleep medicine, it would only hit her past a certain amount. But when it did hit, it would fit with the full force of a tsunami, putting her down in the dark within a few minutes. ¡®That sounds like you''re talking from experience, but whatever. Is there any other reason you might have overslept to an extreme degree?¡¯ Jules asked, seeming to not have it in itself to put pressure on the subject, ¡®Nothing that you need to know about. I am ready to leave in five minutes,¡¯ Cassandra said, getting out of the shower. In record time, her hair was dried, clothes put on, gear sorted through and hand-picked, and she walked out of the room. Which was where she was faced with Jules standing right in front of her door, waving at her kindly. "... How long have you been standing there?" Cassandra asked, squinting her eyes at the automation. Its clothes were properly straightened, with no wrinkles to be seen. That was the first hint of no real movement. The other was that the lights to either side of her hallway weren''t turned on, strongly hinting at the fact that neither side had had movement in the last thirty minutes. "About an hour now," Jules said bluntly. "Are you ready to leave now, or do you want to take another thirty minutes eating breakfast?" Sarcasm. Great. How utterly and completely great to hear. The only step that was needed for an automation to seem fully human was to put out a mean-girl impression. If Cassandra had any desire to laugh, she would''ve. "We¡¯ll get something on the way out," Cassandra answered, walking towards the cafeteria. There were rations that could be taken. After that, they would be leaving. There was much to do, after all. Chapter 329: Concealment
When Cassandra entered the small break room, Grunwald was there to meet her eyes. The older man stood by the kitchen counter, eating what could only be called a disgusting piece of humanity. Others liked to also call it a dry bagel, but who really needed details like that? "You are up surprisingly early, Cass," Officer Grunwald commented, continuing to chew his dry abomination of breakfast. "I hope you got the sleep you needed." Cassandra had gotten all the sleep she would ever need for that day. Looking at the time, it was still extremely early in the morning. The sun would have barely reached over the hills currently. How long had she slept? It must have been around three¡­ maybe four hours? Positively dead in her bed at that point. Only true monsters could sleep longer than that. "I could say the same to you, sir. I had not expected to see anybody being out of bed at this hour," Cass countered, walking over to her counter and looking at the opportunities laid out for her. Dry bagels. Upon the counter, there was nothing but bags on bags of bagels. Just¡­ who exactly had been the one to order supplies? Looking into it swiftly, Cassandra was dismayed to find that it had been none other than Jared. The man had no real taste for anything, but even so. Shouldn''t he have seen breakfast as anything other than a meaningless chore? Looking in the cabinets, Cassandra found herself one of the emergency rations instead. It wouldn''t taste great, but it would be better than dry bread at the very least. "Haven''t gone to bed yet. Currently up to thirty hours of being awake," Grunwald stated nonchalantly. It likely was just another day for the man. How many times had he tried something like this before, forced into being awake for days on end? The life of an officer was extremely endurance-breaking at times, so there was no real hardship in guessing it. "And please bring a bagel with you. These things won''t get old in the next year, so the only way we can''t get away with them is through consumption." "Of course, sir," Cass obliged, taking one of the horrible creations. Jules would surely eat it. Or maybe there were some birds she could throw it at. The woman was just fully under the understanding of her not being the one to eat that garbage. Cassandra left the room without another word. Jules was there to welcome her on the other side of the door, not having walked in with her for some reason. Did the automation avoid the others? The woman had seen evidence of it as of late but decided to not bring it up. There was nothing that could be done, other than outright ordering it to change its pattern. "Do you want this bagel?" Cassandra asked, offering the construct of the stale piece of bread. She was barely touching it, only two fingers stopping it from falling to the ground where it deserved to be. The automation looked at it for a second or two, as if it was studying the food for any deficiencies. Cassandra could personally find many of such flaws, but maybe the automation was looking for something different from her? The woman was only looking at it from a logical standpoint. Knowing the construct, the woman wouldn''t doubt if it was trying to figure out if it could be used as a baseball in colder conditions. "Did you do anything to it?" Jules questioned, clearly suspicious of a small gesture of kindness. "You are very suspicious of me this morning," Cassandra stated. "The dragon is meant to be greedy," Jules commented as if it was meant to explain it all. But, no matter what it was meant to contextualize, the automation did indeed take the baked goods. "Why are you giving it to me?" "Because I didn''t want it," Cassandra answered, feeling no reason to hide her intentions. Not like she was going to ever act like she would eat such a disgusting thing. She hadn''t even hidden her displeasure of it during her talk with Grunwald, and that meant more than one could ever truly understand. To show negativity in front of a superior was something that she wouldn''t normally do, after all. While it was able to generate some form of sympathy, it also had the ability to form a negative banner to her name, badly damaging her image as a generally positive person. Her persona was everything, yet even it could not make her change her opinions on those damned things. Jules did not look understanding, looking at the woman with minor scrutiny. Cassandra just ignored it, as they finally got outside the front door. Their vehicle was there, waiting for them to enter. The automation had likely driven it over before it had settled on waiting for her to get out of her room. How awfully considerate of it. She would have commented on it, if not for the continued silence between them. The construct was clearly thinking about something. "If you did not want it," Jules began, speaking slowly and clearly. "Why did you get it to begin with? Wouldn''t that be a waste of food?" "We have too many bagels for two people to get through, and there is no way that I will be assisting in the consummation of those things," Cassandra answered, forming eye contact with the automation as she settled on her seat. Jules already had the key out, jamming it into the socket. "Therefore, I felt that you would provide me with an ample replacement. And you already accepted the bread meaning that you are entitled to eat it. It is common decency." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The automation raised a finger, as if it was getting ready to protest, but slowly lowered it again. Its mouth was open like it had just been ready to vocalise something, yet nothing got at all. Instead, it looked at the bagel in its hands, shrugged, and took a big bite out of it. After a second, it shrugged again, putting out the universal sign of just accepting the taste. "Glad to hear I''m enough to be a replacement person, I guess," Jules said, taking a few more quick bites and finishing the entire thing. Cassandra felt a bit bad about it, knowing just how dry that thing was. Then she remembered that she was thinking about a construct made of metal and lost all forms of sympathy. No reason to feel about pressing the keys on a keyboard too hard. Why would she worry about this? ¡­ The speeder was pressed to the bottom of the car, and the two moved into the street quickly, the car surging past red lights and empty streets. There was nothing but them in the city street, no humans to see. While there might have been some looking from the windows, there was nobody brave enough to brave the outside. Nobody wanted to be singled out on the cameras. The risks were too high. They had rights, security to their name, and a force ready to help them at the moment. But¡­ the force needed to help the entire mass. A single person was rarely that important. For the sake of all, rights could be overlooked, privileges could be infringed upon, and the security meant for them could be taken away at a moment''s notice. A human could be the offering meant to secure security for everybody else. Did Cassandra like this part? Did she like that some people were removed? No, she did not. But¡­ she knew what would happen if they didn''t. Dangerous people could hurt others. They could kill others. How could she sleep at night, if she knew what would happen if the government didn''t act beforehand? Being reactive to events was not always the best way to move. Predicting the crime before it happened? If the technology worked, there was no reason to not do it. One person was a worthy sacrifice for a society to prosper. Looking over at the automation, Cassandra saw the construct looking forward with no emotion in its face. Maybe it was yet again choosing to ignore this part of its body, in favour of using the computing power for some other task? It had been done before, after all, and the woman did not dare to think it wouldn''t happen again. It was a good idea, after all. Just¡­ it would be nice to know if that was what was really happening. They were driving so quickly, cutting corners to the point where streetlights were nearly driven into constantly, and danger was omnipresent. If the automation was experiencing any internal errors, it would have been great to know within the same second, lest they would likely suffer extreme damage to the car and body. How could that be done? Well, Cassandra already knew how she could do it. She had done it many times at that point, to a degree where she hardly needed to think about it anymore. Her internal digital functions had created a shortcut for her in anticipation of the desire to check out the inner workings of the automation. While that was a perfect example of an interface''s adaption to the users¡¯ desires, it was also a great example of a flaw that Cassandra was noticed more and more. She was relying on a single function and a function that she was beginning to grow uncomfortable using. In reality, nothing was stopping an officer from looking anything up. If Cassandra wanted to, she could get the medical files, the security codes, and perfect copies of the credentials of all the citizens in the entire city. The system would stop her, due to the level of trust that was put on her. She could snoop around as much as she wanted and suffer no consequences for it. And her co-workers weren''t safe from this either. She could know everything about them, read their entire life story from their own perspective, and use that information as she wished. And they could do the same to her. It was a prisoner''s dilemma. While she was technically restricted in her actions in finding information, she had the constant presence of history with her. Every search every flicker of her eyes were recorded. If she looked at an officer''s file, that very same officer could look at her history and figure out that she had been looking at him. If she did not look, she would never know and that officer could look around unnoticed. If she did look and the officer had not looked at her, she would have done it without reason. Technically, she would have a higher chance of getting out on top from looking at everybody''s profile constantly, overseeing their every step, always knowing just what they knew about her. But¡­ that¡¯s where the flaws came from. Constant paranoia would do nothing. The system was built on the trust that she wouldn''t do what wasn''t needed for her job to succeed. Cassandra knew all about this and was therefore following the silent agreements set in place between co-workers. She wouldn''t look if the others didn''t look. Yes, she could decide to not trust them and look at their files to make sure they were obeying the agreement, but then she would be just as bad as them. It wasn''t morally correct. It was wrong to do. And Cassandra was doing that exact thing to the automation sitting beside her. Every time she wondered what it was thinking, she went inside its head, digging through its history, its thoughts, everything that she could understand being scrutinized heavily. Yes, it wasn''t alive. Yes, the automation didn''t have the same rights as humans. But¡­ should that really have mattered in this context? Should the woman consider that the thoughts weren''t from a human? They were still thoughts in the end, and they were meant to be private. If the construct wasn''t putting them out into the open, why should she have had the right to look at them, to begin with? Her actions broke the trust that was put on her. As another close call with a wall nearly caused Cassandra to jump out of the vehicle, the woman began to reconsider a few of her ideals. The idea of ethics, just what it meant to be trusted, if she could really subjugate a thinking construct to such things, and it was¡­ gruelling to get through. The woman needed an easy fix. And after a few seconds of thinking, she finally decided on one. "Slow the car to the speed an average person would drive on this road," Cassandra ordered, her hands slightly white from the grip she had on her seat. For once, the facial features on Jules came back in place. The automation gave her a side-glance for a second, before doing as was requested, slowing down the car to a decent level. It was still very close to breaking the speed limits, but Cassandra was more than feeling safer at that point. "Is something wrong?" Jules inquired, looking over at her completely now. Cassandra would have shouted at the construct to watch the road, but she already knew that it hadn''t been using its eyes, to begin with. The cameras already worked just fine to do that. "I have a question." "... Then say it. I kinda need to hear it if I want to answer it." "Do you mind me knowing your thoughts?" Cassandra asked. Jules didn''t answer immediately. The automation just looked at her, the facial features once again growing into an impassive expression. It wasn''t showing any emotion. "Do you want the answer you want to hear?" Jules asked. The tone was without emotion. It was dull, just like Grunwald had used during his interrogation. "Will it be an honest one?" "No." "Then I want to hear your honest answer." Silence permuted the car, neither party saying anything. Cassandra looked at the automation, but it didn''t look back at her. "... I would rather you didn''t." Of course. Cassandra should have guessed. "Animal carcass on the side road over there," Jules stated, drifting the conversation to an entirely different route. "The head is missing." Looking at where the construct was pointing, Cassandra found that last comment an understatement. Chapter 330: Scourge
"Do people normally hunt with shotguns around here?" No. Cassandra did not think that anybody used to hunt with shotguns anywhere. It was impractical to an extreme degree. While the range of such a primitive weapon was higher than many citizens expected, it was still not optimal for most hunting styles. Most prey would both hear and see a hunter before they came close enough for the weapon to be an instant kill. A good shooter could use a shotgun to kill, yes, but it would most likely not be an instant thing. Shots to the heart were the most practical way to kill, with the lungs coming in a close second. Sure, it would perhaps take upwards of a few minutes for the animal to be truly dead, but it would be much quicker than if a badly aimed shotgun shell was used. Within twenty meters, there would just be a hole where the flesh once had been. But¡­ animals knew the hunter was there long before that. The terrain made sure of that. This then begged the question of just how this deer had been executed so brutally with such a weapon. "Just as many use leg-hold traps," Cassandra answered overtly. Stuck to the front-left leg was what was commonly known as a bear-trap. While they might have been legal a century ago, there were few countries that even allowed them to be manufactured. The history of them was quite extreme, the traps being used in brutal underground warfare. The pictures of them had been brutal enough. Seeing it in person was something else. Looking at the trap closely, it was obvious that it wasn''t store-bought. Maybe the parts, yes, but the assembly itself? Definitely handmade. And more powerful than most. Giving it a tug, Cassandra was unable to put it back into its starting position. She could actually hardly move it at all. It remained in its position. That explained the very broken bone. Even if the deer had gotten out of the trap, it wouldn''t have gotten more than a few meters away. The leg itself had been destroyed to the point where the skin was barely hanging on. If Cassandra or Jules were to accidentally step on one of those¡­ it wouldn''t be pretty. The woman¡¯s gear might take some of the impacts, but the force exerted might have been enough to just cut through it cleanly. Cassandra wasn''t too sure, honestly. She just saw enough to know that she would be sticking to the paths. Even if they were filled with snow, they would still offer some form of protection. "Not too many then, I suppose," Jules said. The automation went down on its knees to get to the same level as Cassandra. Neither needed to do it to get a good look at the corpse, but it helped mentally. "Any idea why they did it?" "What do you mean?" Cassandra asked. "I mean, it''s clear that they didn''t do it to get food. Nothing was really taken from that thing," Jules stated, waving its hand while pointing it towards the very brutal animal carcass. "There has to be some reason for all that." Giving the corpse one more look, Cassandra had to wonder the same thing. Hunters hunted prey. That was something the town allowed every year, to make sure that the animal population did not grow too large. But, it was heavily restricted. Hunters were not allowed the use of anything but hunting rifles, they weren''t allowed to leave the body, and they most certainly weren''t allowed to do it in such a brutal manner. The deer had not died a quick death. Wiping away some of the snow, just the upper layer, Cassandra was able to see clear imprints of deer hooves trying to move its body through muddy dirt. How long must it have taken to get all those imprints so deep? An hour? A day? The woman was no expert, but there was no chance of it having been done in any small amount of time. It was disgusting. "Maybe they just needed something to do," Cassandra suggested. She spared a glance to where the deer¡¯s head was supposed to be. The back parts of the neck still hung onto the rest of the body. Only barely, though. Bits of the head, skull, whatever anybody wanted to call it, had hit the trees behind, digging into the wood. Cassandra guessed it had been done from a lower angle right where they stood. The hunter had to have nearly lied down to get a good shot. Why? Was enjoyment really that important? If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "That¡¯s a plausible explanation, I suppose. Not the worst thing that¡¯s happened in this place," Jules said. "Should we get on with it? If you want, we could drive back into town with the corpse, and make sure that-" "That¡¯s not needed," Cassandra said, getting up from her hunched over position. "The temperature keeps it cold. We¡¯ll get it on the way back. There is still much we have to do today, and stopping just for that will get us nowhere." Noting down the coordinates, the two moved over to the car and drove further into the forest. The road was rough and poorly maintained, but it worked well enough. It wasn''t like they hadn''t taken the trip before. While it had been one of the other off-roads before, the end-point was the same as what it had been before. Not that Cassandra had expected anything else. The river looked just as it had looked the last time she had been there. It raged on, bringing sound and wind to it. A few pieces of ice floated down, broken before they could be fully formed. She wondered if it would freeze over like it had last year. "If I had opinions, I would have called the view beautiful," Jules commented, as it got out of the car. They had parked relatively close to the water, and were able to see it all before they even stepped out. And while the sentiment might have been in a different manner, Cassandra did agree with the automation¡¯s words. If they hadn''t been there to track a cult of potentially animal-abusing people, she might even have enjoyed it a bit more. But, work waited for nobody, and tracks never waited to be found. They would be erased within the day, and they had to find them all. "You said the place was down a kilometre or so?" Cassandra asked. Looking at the map again, she was dismayed to find that the tracking software was not working with too much precision. It was only effective to a margin of ten meters or so. How utterly useless. If she needed to broadcast her location, that margin could have been the difference between life and death. Just¡­ how could it have been this bad? Was there a problem due to the trees? The woman was not somebody truly equipped with the knowledge, but that just might have been it. "Just about, yeah. Shouldn''t be too far off, since we don''t have to cross the river this time," Jules said, looking around the terrain. The two headed down to the river, scanning the ground for anything resembling human tracks. While there were several larger birds, one deer, and what looked to be a smaller canine of some kind, nothing human came up. A shame, but not enough to be stressed about. The trek to the needed part of the river was slow. They could have run for a minute to reach the place, yes, but they refrained from it. Cassandra needed to be sure about their search being thorough. Missing small details was a quirk that the woman absolutely refused to be involved with, no matter how much it would speed up their travel. They had the entire day and they would use the entire day. No rock would be unturned, and no ground would go unobserved. But¡­ there was nothing yet again. Bloodstains, snow trampled, feathers in heaps, but nothing that could have been blamed on humans. Cassandra had been there not that long ago and had already seen much of it back then. Nothing new had come around in the last while. Nothing alive. It felt like a still had been taken and left to sit, the organic flesh rotting in the meantime. How had no animals found the dead prey? Just where were the animals? Had they been hunted to the point where they had fled? If so, there was a chance that the station was in more problems than they initially anticipated. A force big enough to hunt so many creatures¡­ even if the winter had reduced the active number of creatures, they were still in very high numbers. It was getting closer to estimates of fifty well-equipped people. They couldn''t take in so many numbers. They needed reinforcements for that. ¡®Are things alright on your end? The interface is giving warnings about your increased pulse,¡¯ Jules sent over, having switched to the police channel without being asked. A good thing all in all, since Cassandra didn''t feel like talking verbally. She might just have shown off the more than minor amounts of stress she was experiencing. The automation¡¯s interface was not the only one showing off warnings. ¡®Strategy is known to cause such effects,¡¯ Cassandra answered, not feeling like giving the real reason for her increased bodily functions. There was no real reason to, after all. Stating outright that one felt fear wasn''t good for anything. ¡®Just what kind of strategizing are you doing that would cause this kind of a reaction?¡¯ Jules questioned. If the channel had the ability to showcase emotions in any larger capacity, Cassandra was sure there would have been some form of the automation sounding flabbergasted at her words. ¡®The kind that I expect we will need. Have you noticed the animals we¡¯ve passed?¡¯ ¡®The dead ones? Most definitely. They smell bad for how old they¡¯re supposed to be.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s due to them normally having been eaten at this point, yet they have clearly been ignored to an extreme degree. The fur has been untouched, save for natural erosion. No teeth or claw marks at all. Do you know what this means?¡¯ ¡®The animals are avoiding this part of the forest,¡¯ Jules answered. Looking over, Cassandra could see the automation¡¯s facial features growing sharper. Even it could see just how dire the situation was. ¡®I¡¯m guessing we¡¯re not going for direct engagement anymore?¡¯ That had been the plan at the start. If they saw anybody, they would be interacted with, and perhaps taken into custody if they were seen with weaponry of any real form. But¡­ Cassandra was hardly thinking of a realistic opportunity anymore. The dangers attached weren''t worth it. Recon was a more amenable approach. ¡®We need to note down locations, and nothing more. Any chances at interaction need to be avoided fully. If there is any hint of any human, we retreat without looking back,¡¯ Cassandra sent, her orders fully constructed. There was nothing good that could come from any other approach. Reaching the location that Jules had mentioned so long before, Cassandra could in a way understand why the interaction had happened there. The water was without much power, allowing one to step far into it without being swept along by the current. It wasn''t too deep either. If not for the extreme cold, it could have had many utilities. Not that she cared too much about that, her attention on another matter entirely. Along the forest, a path was opened up for them. It wasn''t any official trail, but it had clearly been well-travelled. Any foliage that had reached above the snow showed clear signs of having been trampled in the last hours. This was a place commonly used. By who? Well¡­ the two officers were going to figure out just that. Chapter 331: Bugbear
The forest was dense, and visibility was low. The sun was supposed to have risen already, but the trees wouldn''t stop obscuring it. Perhaps it would have been easier to see during midday, but that would imply that Cassandra had the ability to wait for such a long time. And, really, who needed the extra light? It was to her advantage, after all. Together with her augmented eyes, her eyesight was marginally better than anything mere criminals could match. If things were as she guessed they were, things were working in her favour. It would only be logical to continue. But¡­ she had to stop for yet another time that day. Not because of her falling or anything. Nor was it because of Jules¡¯ inability to catch up to her. In fact, it might just have been the woman having trouble catching up to the automation. Not that this became a problem after a while, since both stopped in their tracks completely. It was done in near-perfect sync, both of them seeing what was before them. If it had been a human, they would have retreated then and there. But¡­ it wasn''t human. At least they didn''t guess it was. From the bone structure alone, it was impossible for such a thing to be possible. The ribs were elongated, the legs were in higher numbers than two, and the skull¡­ the skull was actually a perfect match. There was no skin to see anywhere. Muscles, tendons, even bones were easy to see, everything hiding it having already been removed. The now-exposed parts of the body had clearly been worn down by time spent out in the cold. Yet that very same cold might just have been what made the flesh last so long outside. It certainly lasted for long enough for the two officers to come by it. ¡®That¡¯s not showing up in the database for me. How about you?¡¯ Jules asked through the official channels. The automation did not tilt its head towards her. Neither did Cassandra directly look at it. Maybe it was because they both didn''t want to look away from the carcass before them. Maybe they both felt fear. But that didn''t really make sense. Only one of them could feel fear. Cassandra was the only one of them able to have emotion at all. She was the only one of them alive. She had the capabilities of sentience that the construct would never have. And¡­ because of that, she would be the one putting out the orders. This was a situation where she was in charge, and she would use that power for what it was worth. ¡®I have not, because it is likely not a normal specimen. Look at the muscles around the neck. They have been fused at the lower points to create stability. That was not done naturally,¡¯ Cassandra sent, her body slowly adapting to what was seen before her. Now that she thought about it, her mind was not normally like this. She didn''t usually feel fear when looking upon a dead body. Neither did she normally feel a turning in her stomach, as if it was getting ready to desecrate a crime scene with her earlier foodstuffs. This¡­ wasn''t making sense. Why¡­ Why did she refuse to not look at it? ¡®Jules. Take two steps to your left.¡¯ The automation immediately complied. With the construction in front of her and the close proximity to its body, Cassandra was unable to see the corpse mere meters away from her. It was being obscured. Taking a deep breath, her mind felt cleared up in a moment, all the fear and anxiety from seeing it seemingly gone in an instant. What was happening? The woman asked herself that close to a thousand times before realizing the answer. Uncanny valley quintupled in effect. That¡¯s how she saw it. Because of the head, she couldn''t see it as anything else. Her mind was being manipulated through physiological tactics. Normally, it shouldn''t have worked to such an effect, but¡­ such weapons hardly worked alone. ¡®Check the air for anomalies,¡¯ Cassandra ordered, already taking more than a couple of steps back. She had been getting light headed without realising it, much akin to the effects of carbon dioxide poisoning. Only¡­ instead of first hitting the muscles, her mind had been close to being the first thing to falter. That was not good. ¡®Unknown chemical has been located. Contains components normally seen in¡­ I advise putting on a breathing mask,¡¯ Jules answered. The automation quickly walked over to her, handing her the mask itself. It was small, barely enough to fit over her mouth, but it worked like a charm no matter what. Cassandra was just about to inquire why the automation wouldn''t be wearing one but had to almost slap herself because of the thought. Of course Jules wouldn''t be carrying more than one! The automation didn''t need such a thing, since it didn''t have lungs to begin with. At least¡­ not in the same fashion as the woman has. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. No, wait, that didn''t make sense. The construct had been staring at the corpse just as much as Cassandra had, if not more than her. It shouldn''t have been affected by it, yet there had clearly been some compulsion to look on the carcass. ¡®Run a self-scan for any anomalies,¡¯ Cassandra ordered. Psychological attacks, chemical attacks, and now she had to check for technologically-based attacks. How fun the world was. She hadn''t even mentioned the possible traps in the whole forest, ready to trap an animal for days on end. ¡®No anomalies found,¡¯ Jules informed her. ¡®Do you need help getting up?¡¯ The woman had barely noticed fell to the ground, to begin with. Her mind had likely been too rattled at that point to notice. But¡­ the effect was wearing off. With the help of a timed picture, she was able to see a lessened effect of the psychological compulsions, and the fear factor was dropping rapidly. Her heart was beating stability, and the stress levels were likewise dropping. They were actually dropping lower than they had been through the entire trip in the forest. ¡­ How far ranged was the chemical compound? Cassandra needed that to be tested soon. Grabbing the hand of the automation, Cassandra got back up on her feet. Brushing off all the snow that had settled on her gear, she looked back at the carcass, this time with an entirely new set of eyes. The dead entity almost seemed smaller now, as if it wasn''t that intimidating anymore. No longer did the leg-bones seem monstrously elongated, to the point where they were sharp enough to cut her jugular from a distance. No, they just looked like¡­ normally bones. Animal-bones, yes, but just of the regular kind. ¡®Do you think they have the technology to fuse the head so perfectly out here?¡¯ Jules asked her through the channel. It had followed her up to the corpse, looking at the very same skull she was. It had been emptied, likely the only organ missing in the entire body. Why had the brain been taken away but the skull left untouched? They must have been careful in the procedure. Cassandra doubted even she could have done something like it without leaving some form of scratch. Bringing out a scanning device, she slowly put out 3-d imaging of the body. It was needed for proof, after all, the specimen was seen before them not having been seen before in the entire police database. She did not doubt it wouldn''t go unnoticed. ¡®The outside might look perfect, but I need a better look at the bone structure within,¡¯ Cassandra answered, getting down on her knees once again. Doing her best to not destroy any of the tissue, she slowly pushed some of it aside to fully see the neck. It was¡­ more than well done. It was clearly just not the surface of the bones which had been fused together but the bone in its entirety. It lined up seamlessly. How was this possibly done? Cassandra wasn''t even close to an expert on the subject, only having studied due to a mere curiosity in the topic, but¡­ this isn''t something she had ever seen covered. And according to her database, there had been no studies on it. Not anything this advanced. Criminals couldn''t have done this. It didn''t make sense. "This wasn''t done by them. It has to be a third party," Cassandra said out loud. Her voice was muffled by the face mask bringing her fresh air, but the sound still carried through just fine. Not like the automation needed much to understand her. "We should continue." Making sure that the location had been noted down, the two continued down the trail once again. While obscured by the snow, they came upon more and more signs of humans having been around recently. Kicked branches, trees with their bark cut, and trails of blood were everywhere. While there might have been some animals left behind, Cassandra was beginning to think that most might just have been carried back to their outpost. And if the trails were in such high amounts, it must have meant they were close. Her theory was not entirely unbiased. Their discoveries soon after was proof of that, the two coming into a smaller clearing of sorts. There were still trees all around them, but the density of them was in much smaller numbers, and so too were their overall size. Most of the trees couldn''t have been more than a decade or two old at that point. Barely born, in relation to all the high-rising pieces of wood surrounding the so-called clearing. But young trees were not the only thing in that clearing. In the middle, Cassandra was easily able to spot irrefutable proof of humans. A house, old and in disrepair. Half of it had already fallen down to natural erosion, but the other half still stood proudly. There were many of the sort throughout the forest, many having lived in it throughout the last century. Not all had been made officially, newcomers making them by hand. That might just have been why most of them had already fallen due to the wind. They were becoming rarer and rarer to see. And it was more than just rare to see one that hadn''t been properly documented before. Looking through the database, the woman found no mention of what stood before her. The trail they had walked on had clearly not been travelled on by an officer for a very long time. ¡®We are moving closer,¡¯ Cassandra sent out, evening out her breathing. She was becoming silent. At least as silent as she could be, Jules clearly doing a better job than her. She supposed that was one bonus of not having to breathe air to survive. Much less noise to make overall. ¡®Any chance of hostiles?¡¯ Jules questioned. They both bent their backs, getting closer to the ground so as to not be seen from the windows. The trees were easy to use for this purpose as well, the wood obscuring the view. ¡®Unknown. Larger chance of habitation or past habitation,¡¯ Cassandra automatically answered, all her attention put on her own movement and scanning the house for any of its own. Weapons had a sheen to them, and the light shining into the glass-panes would make it hard to see them. If she needed to dodge any fire at all, she would need to be ready. They got closer and closer to the house, to the point where they could touch the walls. With the building made of wood, Cassandra doubted that interaction with it would have any chance of letting them hide their position. Older wooden boards were not known for being silent, after all. But that was of no matter. It wasn''t like the woman had any intention of entering without confirmation of it being without any people. Or, at least not anybody that she could see. Going over to the windows, Jules right behind her, Cassandra glanced at the insides. It was heavily shrouded due to the dirt, but she could see well enough. There¡­ was no human being. There were poorly-made beds of sorts, along with what looked like empty cans, but no sign of anything alive being in there. Glancing at the cans from another angle, Cassandra saw them being entirely empty. Nature might have been around and taken what remained. That would have taken months if not years. It was a sign. One that Cassandra would take as she wanted. ¡®We¡¯re going in,¡¯ Cassandra stated, once again moving towards the front door. Chapter 332: Search
The first room was empty. Not that surprising seeing as it was the entranceway. But¡­ Cassandra had still expected some form of rubble. The ceiling was clearly unbalanced, with all kinds of things wedged between the boards. Wind should have caused it all to slowly fall to the floor, creating a layer of dust and other materials bad for human lungs. Yet, there was nothing of the sort. Somebody had been cleaning the rooms. Somebody had been here within the last day or two. Sending a message to Jules, both officers brought out weapons. Non-lethal to begin with, but Cassandra was more than ready to quick-draw a more dangerous one. She was fully aware of what weaponry was being used, and she was not going to allow herself to succumb to them. The next room was studied, the one formerly used for sleep. There wasn''t much furniture to speak of, there only being a badly stained sofa and a smaller table. Giving a glance to the torn sheets on the floor, Cassandra wasn''t too sure if she wanted to involve them in the equation. No human could have slept on those, right? That was something fit for the dogs, and even then it was stretching it. Scanning the corners, no detecting apparatuses were seen. Neither was Jules able to detect anything, be that in the air, on the floor, or just surrounding them in any way. The rooms hadn''t been booby-trapped. That was good to hear. Cassandra had heard the stories, after all. With her not having been in the area for that long, she had not been on one of the expeditions yet. Every two years or so, it was common to scan through the forest for any criminal activity. Would-be drugs-lords, slavers, and whatever other depravity humans could think of had been done in the woods the woman stood in. It was a perfect hiding spot, which was exactly why it needed to be cleaned every so often, lest larger predators would come in, searching for easy targets. Jared had not talked much about what he had seen inside houses such as the one Cassandra was in, but the reports had not put any of it in a good light. The slavery was still a sore point for the woman. They hadn''t been meant for labour but for the pleasure of extreme sadists. The things done to those people were more than just inhumane. The conditions they had been set in were meant to have been torture. They had been forced to feel pain with no pause, filmed for the pleasure of the people paying to see it. It was not hard to see why Cassandra wanted it gone from this place. And it was also why she was being so careful. Those who were smart enough to see opportunity were likely also smart enough to prepare for the situations they would be put in. If any of the criminals had used the area for themselves, Cassandra knew for a fact that something had to be in the house. It might not have been a recorder, but there just had to be something. The woman cursed herself for not thinking it a good idea to bring extra equipment. What she wouldn''t have done to bring one of the more advanced scanners. It was used for sweeping larger areas by the SWAT, but it was more than helpful in finding electronic traps. Sure, it couldn''t find a grenade strapped to a door, but it worked fine with most traps. Without it, it just meant that Cassandra was forced to use more discrete options. Checking for threads, looking through slits, and making sure to make no quick movements was some of the standard ways to survive out in the fields. And going through doors¡­ was one of the harder things to do. It wasn''t impossible to know what was on the other side. Sure, there were no sounds to hear, but that didn''t mean there was somebody with a rifle ready to shoot through any kind of defence she had to offer. Jules was the one to take the lead this time, the automation better with doors. After checking it for any attached parts, with there being none found, it was decided to go the route of surprise. That meant going through the door instead of opening it. To rephrase it in other words, the construct took a few steps as a running start before just breaking through the wooden board serving as a door. The automations body was hard compared to the door, and it offered no resistance at all. Cassandra hung back, checking the corners of the room, while Jules went into a position where it could hide from fire. None came, luckily. But¡­ there was something else. A table. Not that a table was the most interesting thing in the world. Honestly, Cassandra had seen an identical one in the other room. But, it was what was on the table that intrigued them both. Electronics, breadboards, wires of various sizes and lengths, and what could have only been called weaving fabrics meant for extremely expensive circuits were scattered across the wooden table. Even the cables alone must have been worth more than most got in a month''s pay. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡®Whoever had been here must have left in a hurry,¡¯ Jules commented, starting to reach for one of the boards. Cassandra stopped the construct, however, more than just serious when staring at it. ¡®Could have been trapped. Don''t touch anything until the house is deemed clear. One more room to check,¡¯ Cassandra sent. The construct was quick to withdraw its hand after that, putting it back on the pistol at hand. Together, they moved through the doorway once again. The last room was to the left of the other, and¡­ it seemed older. Less used, would be a more appropriate description. From the frame itself, Cassandra could see more dust lying on the ground. Whoever had cleaned had clearly not seen a reason to go through the doorway. That would normally hint at nothing being on the other side, but¡­ it also had an entirely different meaning. There was a chance that it was something so serious that it was not commonly interacted with. Those worries were entirely unfounded, in the end. On the other side of the door was a room without a ceiling, the wood very clearly not having been able to keep up the weight for long. Snow was piling in, covering most of the floor. What little warmth had been preserved inside the house disappeared entirely when Cassandra opened up the door, wind pushing into her face. Looking around, there was nothing but old canned food. Some were full but most were empty. Looking at the labels, most of them predated her own birth. How exactly they had survived the conditions they were put in, Cassandra wasn''t entirely sure. Neither was she too curious about it. ¡®House is clear,¡¯ she finally stated through the channel, her own words causing much tension to be lost. There was nothing there that could have been called human. Only leftovers from previous inhabitants. Inhabitants who clearly didn''t have a lot of time to pack. Getting back into the other room, Cassandra cast another look on the various pieces of materials. It was not the first time a criminal had been in possession of such things. In fact, it was more than a little common to see. But¡­ not in these amounts. And even on those rare occasions, there was no way they would be left behind. After having Jules do his best to find traces of explosives in the air, courage was gathered to assort the different items strewn across the table. And it was quite the assortment at that. With the help of recognition software, every piece was easily categorized and put into the correct bundle. Just how had a low-brow criminal accessed it all? ¡®Anything interesting to note?¡¯ Jules asked over the channel. Neither was speaking verbally, making as little sound as needed. There was no real need to, after all. And it wasn''t like Cassandra had any desire towards doing such a thing. The chemical composition was still in the air, according to the automation who had been checking it every few seconds. They would need an estimate on just how far-reaching it was. Was it close to the edges of the city? If so, it was way out of hand when compared to what an officer was supposed to be dealing with. ¡®We are working against very lucky idiots or unfortunate geniuses,¡¯ Cassandra summarized. From the look Jules gave immediately after, she decided that some elaboration was in order. ¡®The components seen here come from a very diverse range of machinery. Some come from kitchen appliances, with an example of such being this heap of knotted wires. Not the most surprising, when you ignore the good quality of them. However, it does get more complicated when you look at the stolen circuit boards. If we lived in a country that was currently enduring a relentless civil war, I would understand how a civilian got their hands on the insides of a non-standard issue Gatling gun seven times in a row. Since we are not in a civil war, though, I find it hard to believe that the criminals have found seven of these circuit boards in perfect condition, yet they very much have done just that. This can mean two things. Either this means that they are very lucky in their scavenging, and have just not realised the treasures they have stumbled upon. Or, with this being my theory with a higher chance of being correct, we have encountered people adept at this profession, who have simply been forced to retreat from their base of operations within the minute, only grabbing the essentials. The tools here are incomplete, strongly hinting that somebody simply took a handful and left everything else behind. Do you understand now?¡¯ ¡®I understood by the first part, but you certainly seem to have thought about it a lot,¡¯ Jules said, taking one of those extremely expensive circuit boards and throwing it in the air. Cassandra winced as she saw something worth ninety-five thousand dollars be interacted with in such away. The automation might not have needed to worry about static electricity on the fingers, but they could still very easily be destroyed. With their high value, they were obligated to report the find to the higher-ups. ¡®Any chance we¡¯ll be able to keep a few of these?¡¯ ¡®The ones worth less than ten thousand dollars will be auctioned within five years. If you ever get the right to buy things, you can buy it then,¡¯ Cassandra answered, trying to figure out just how she was going to get the items back to the station. There was still no desire to retreat back there already, but now there was the unstoppable pressure of her breaching code by leaving the items there another day. Maybe she could- ¡®A shame. Guess we¡¯ll just have to put those six circuit boards in a bag and bring them home,¡¯ the automation sent back, making a small tick with its tongue. Six? Just what was it talking about? Looking over at the automation, Cassandra was about to ask just that until¡­ she noticed there was nothing in the construct¡¯s hands. They were empty. Looking at the floor, the circuit board had clearly not been putten back, only six of them sitting there. Had she¡­ miscounted? No, that didn''t make sense. Her recordings very clearly stated that there were six. She might have been able to make a mental error like that, but the recording could not have. Looking back at the automation with new eyes, the woman glanced throughout its body. Nothing important in the hands, the sleeves were like they had been moments before, the shoulders were without any change, the breast pocket was as unfilled as before, no knew indents on the stomach, and¡­ there it was. In the left pocket of the trousers. Just the edge of it could be seen, but Cassandra could still very clearly see what was there. They stared at each other''s eyes. Cassandra was serious. Jules gave a dumb smile. Cassandra gave up and left the room, deciding to leave the trouble for another to find. She could bring the goods over at another time if they were still there at that point. There were more important things to do, after all. Chapter 333: Repetend
Out of the house they went, continuing on into the forest. According to their location, they were delving deeper and deeper into the wild territory. There were no official trails to walk along, the only paths made by animals or the humans who didn''t want to be seen. Cassandra had no real questions on just which of those she was following, the footprints showing off the species quite clearly. But¡­ then the numbers started to increase. Paths started to come together, footprints becoming more varied. Sizes, shapes, and distances started to become so diverse that Cassandra couldn''t reasonably estimate the number of people present. It was more than she had expected. More than Grunwald had predicted. This wasn''t good. When the number of steps started to cause a larger widening of the path, the two officers strayed off of it. The cover was becoming less effective, the path straightening out. If they had stayed on the path, they would have been noticed before they would have noticed them. And when coupled with the traps placed down, Cassandra felt it was the right choice. Hidden in the snow, many things could be found. Wires, more leg-hold traps, and would only be called a light-sensor was found before they were triggered. Many of the detectors were hidden well, and when they began to increase as well, it became clear that they would be found without even realising it. So off the road the two of them walked, creating a distance to it by around a hundred meters. Together with the trees, there wasn''t a chance of them being discovered through visual sight alone. It was perhaps not the most solid of plans, but it was everything they could do with the equipment they had What Cassandra wouldn''t have given for cloaking equipment. Together with the dense forest, she would have been virtually invisible to everybody close to her. And with her training in being silent, she was sure she could have gotten forward so much faster and so much safer. Sadly, the police force did not have access to such things. While specialised equipment was authorized in some scenarios, it wasn''t often. And it was mostly done as an act of good press, so the woman didn''t even think of herself being granted that privilege. Not like she wanted to be in the spotlight just yet. Those who rose the fastest fell the hardest. Those higher up in the ladder made sure of that, not wanting their positions to be threatened. Maybe that was why she was taking such a relaxed position to get promotions. Or¡­ relaxed, when put between others who had the same goals as her. There were several strategies surrounding the act of reaching the top, and many of them were within her budget. Again and again, they had been proven to work, and there was nothing that could virtually stop them. Cassandra had seen most of them herself. She had talked with the people who had done them and had talked strategies with most of them. Advice had been shared, contacts had been kept, and the woman had had first-class tickets to see them fall into despair, as others feared what they could become. Having talked with them after the fact, it became obvious how it was done. Forged scandals, blackmail to an extreme degree, or just threats of harm to those around them. It was incredible how much pain a single human could withstand until that very harm was to be shared around the family. Cassandra found those acts disgusting. Getting attention to oneself by the media, be that through acts of heroism or awards for persistent jobs well done, was not the way to go. When the public loved an officer, the force had to react with shared positivity and promote up to the skies. And, seeing this fast-rising individual, those who feared their careers ended by newcomers would react violently, doing their best to keep the power they had held for so long. Greed became fear and fear made them lash out in their perceived corners. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. That they could even do this would make anybody clench their teeth. There was nobody above most of them, nobody to make sure their actions were without selfishness. But¡­ then it just became a cycle, going into infinity and beyond. Could a selfish person oversee another selfish person without there being anything going wrong? The one to hold their power over newcomers would only change. For there to be peace, the one above all needed to be just, without any desire to lord their power for their own gain. But¡­ that ideal was impossible, anybody reaching that position only able to do so through selfishness. That¡¯s what all those who had fallen had said to her. Not that the woman had listened to them. She would never take much heed of those who had failed in their tasks, after all. What would they know about success, if they had never succeeded in keeping it for more than a month? If those who rose fast were doomed to fail through any possible method, then there was only one way to succeed. To make sure that Cassandra could rise through the top, she had to be slow. She needed to be the second-favourite in everything. Just enough to stand out but not enough to make those in power wary of her. She needed to be the kind one, given a bit of power by everybody through her persistence alone. Never enough to make her seem dangerous, but more than enough to give her promotions over time. It would all look natural to them, while she would begin having favour owed to her. Years down the line, when the time finally came and the older ones began to leave, she would reap what had been sowed, and she would do it all in one big push. Her name would be everywhere, too large to fail, known by every citizen in the whole country. She would be called a hero for her exploits throughout her life, kept under the warps previously to protect her from those who supposedly wished her harm, and the stories about her would only become bigger and bigger. Propaganda would be brought forth, and her adventures would be written down in history for the decade. And she would be above them all. She would make sure there was nobody who could stop others from doing the same. And when another big shot finally arrived to take her place, she would make sure that they did the same. Cassandra wouldn''t cling to the position, only being there for as long as she was loved. And she would know that she had reached the top, that she had reached her goal. And she would be happy. She just had to take it slow, be patient with every step, and be nice to those around her. The numbers would grow. She just had to give it time. Cassandra was likewise patient here, slowly moving forward, and doing her best to not make any sound. Her breathing was even, the breathing apparatus still on her face. From what Jules had sent, the chemical compound had evened out to having dissipated almost completely. It had been the strongest close to the animal that they had found before, likely equaling that to be the source of it. While that meant she could have technically removed the mask, she decided it would be best to continue wearing it. Knowing that one chemical compound had been used hinted strongly at another being close. Closer and closer they went, however. They did their best to keep the distance between the road constant, always close enough to barely see the trampled ground. Jules was the one tasked with making sure of that, Cassandra constantly scanning the ground and surroundings for anything even resembling a trap. Luckily, none was found, as the cult seemed to have stayed around only using the paths. Not that this theory stopped her from constantly checking for the traps but still. It was a nice thought to have. At some point, Cassandra couldn''t pinpoint exactly when it was, the woman realised that she was starting to hear voices. Not the kind of voices in one''s head that needed to be worried about, but¡­ the kind voices that could be heard in the real world. The word was not loud enough to hear, but the deep base could easily be felt. The number of people doing it had to be massive, the synchronicity being¡­ shockingly well done. A clearing was ahead of the two officers, one much bigger than the one seen before, and this one with half as many trees inside. Larger tents were strewn across the sides, the middle of the clearing left empty. Or¡­ no, that wasn''t the right word. There was no tent, yes, but there was something else. An altar made of wood, burning at the sides. A large crowd kneeled down around it, being the source of the chanting. There were no robes worn, but their positions made it impossible to see their faces. Jules sent her a head count, but she ignored it in favour of looking at the middle where the altar was. A younger kid lied on it. Cassandra couldn''t be sure of the gender, the hair obscuring the facial features. They had to be under ten but over five years old. She couldn''t be sure from the distance. The woman tried to move forward to get a better view, but Jules stopped her physically, holding her hand firmly. She looked at the automation in confusion, but it simply pointed at the worshippers. ¡®Look at their gear. They have serious firepower,¡¯ Jules sent to her. Obliging the construct, the woman looked at the cultists, her eyes narrowing as she tried to hone in on the details. Her eyes widened at the sight. Chapter 334: Blast
How? How was it possible to have so much? No¡­ that was a stupid question. Terence Manson, that dirty person, had clearly been in his business for a long time. More than just the average criminal, he had wandered the edges for decades now. Cassandra had no reason to be surprised when seeing so many people. Finally looking at the head-count, there were seventy full-blooded humans, excluding the unconscious child on the altar. It was horrifying how many followed that man. The woman almost refused to believe it, if not for the pictures of him hung by the tents. Was he their god? He had to be something special. Perhaps the preacher? She couldn''t be sure. She just knew that he had influence. And with the time used to get it, he had given every person there a weapon to use for themselves. Pistols, rifles, whatever you could think of were there, in the arms of one of the many cultists. The sheer firepower was something that Cassandra had never dealt with. This wasn''t the power that criminals held. This was something that an army would have to invade a smaller city. In any altercation, there was no way the three officers would win, even with the use of the automation. They didn''t have enough weapons to equip all of the constructs, but the criminals clearly had that easily. One of the cultists slowly rose from their kneeling position, nobody else following in their wake. Cassandra narrowed her eyes at the person, still unable to see their face. They had stood closest to the altar, closest to the child. The officer had an idea of just why that was when they brought out a knife. With widened eyes, the woman once again considered trying to run in and get the underaged human. The implications of a sharp implement slowly getting closer and closer to the child was not something that she wanted to accept, feeling an extreme urge to make sure it would ever happen. But¡­ she couldn''t do that. Cassandra would be shot down before she even got close, her speed was too limited to avoid the aiming of rifles at close range. ¡­ Yet she wasn''t the only officer at the scene. ¡®Any chance of you being able to run more than seventy kilometres an hour?¡¯ Cassandra sent the automation, estimating that to be the needed speed. If mixed in with a slower approach that minimised sound, the woman guessed that the child could be acquired before any of the cultists were any wiser. ¡®On a paved road, I might be able to get up to that speed. In a snow-filled mud-fest? Not likely, with the distance I have to build up speed. Not like I¡¯d be able to grab the child without slowing to an extreme degree, else they would just die from the impact,¡¯ Jules answered with no hesitation, clearly able to see what the woman was thinking. Not that this made the answer any better, Cassandra hearing exactly what she didn''t want to hear. What else was there to do? The knife was coming ever closer, and the woman couldn''t just sit there. Yet she also couldn''t send in the automation, and it wasn''t like Cassandra would be any more effective? Create a diversion perhaps? Something that would make them lose their attention, and put it on for later in the day? ¡­ No, she couldn''t risk it. While it was clear that most of the weapons present were from a forgotten era of weaponry, there was still a very large chance of them having more tech than they let on. If anything was able to attack from a range, there was not a chance that Cassandra would be able to escape with her life untouched. Whatever was done about the situation couldn''t come from her in any way. It needed to be somebody else. Somebody with- Grunwald! ¡®Sir, we have found the cultist camp and request immediate assistance,¡¯ Cassandra sent, her eyes still glued to the altar. They were taking their sweet time going through procedures, and she couldn''t have been happier. There was still time. Seconds passed, and the woman grew anxious. Having grown used to the automations instant responses, it was hard to wait the few moments it took other officers to recognize a message sent their way. While it never took more than a minute, there were times where they had other tasks that needed to properly be put on hold beforehand. It could take time, and that needed to be accepted. But, when the time was short, and the stress was at an all-time high, Cassandra could not help but feel like hours were passing before her eyes. The head of the child was being examined by another risen cultist. It was an older man, seeming to be positioning the small body perfectly. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡®What kind of assistance do you require?¡¯ Officer Grunwald was sent back after what had felt like an eternity. If she hadn''t composed herself, the woman would have been breathing deeply by now. Her pulse was perhaps low, but it was fighting high to get into the hundreds. ¡®I am currently witnessing a human sacrifice being prepared in their camp. I need reinforcements to take on approximately seventy armed criminals. Is there any chance we can get deployment from another site?¡¯ A moment of silence was had before the other officer came back with an answer. It was not as long as the one before. ¡®They¡¯re refusing the thought of it. Is the headcount you sent all of the cultists?¡¯ Grunwald answered, sending a question at the same time. ¡®They seem to be performing a ceremony, so it would make sense for them to all be present,¡¯ Cassandra answered. And with how early it was, she couldn''t imagine that anybody had other tasks to do. The early hour might just have been why it was possible, to begin with. ¡®Have your automation perform a long-distance heat-check on the human sacrifice. We need any proof that they are still alive,¡¯ Grunwald sent. Cassandra¡­ didn''t fully understand why this was needed, but obliged nonetheless. If this meant they would get assistance with it all, then she would do close to anything. Sending the directions over to Jules, the construct was quick to obey. One of the perks of being with an artificial entity was that its body was designed with function in mind. It had everything an officer could need, including more lite versions of many sensors. One of them was heat-sensors, making it possible for it to detect bodies over a distance. It was not too accurate when the automation or the target was moving, but it could still provide results. ¡®Results are inconclusive. The skin is warmer than the tree it sits on, but not by that much,¡¯ Jules sent back, making it hard for Cassandra to really make a decision. It was cold outside, and the child was without anything other than shorts and a t-shirt. Obviously, it would be cold if it had been outside for more than an hour. Of course, the skin would be cold, the body reacting to the lack of heat by deciding to protect the organs. With how strong that reaction was in children, Cassandra could excuse the cold body for that. But¡­ could it really be so cold so as to not know from a look alone? ¡®We don''t have conclusive proof of the sacrifice being alive,¡¯ Cassandra finally sent back, not wanting to waste more time. This time, there was no immediate answer. Two seconds passed, more than it should, and the officer had still not reached back to her. They were preparing the knife, cleaning it with a flame. It was nearing extreme temperatures, steam rising from it due to the cold air around it. The sight was something to behold, Cassandra not sure what to think of it. ¡®Cass, your exact location is being obscured from us. We need for you to give us the coordinates manually,¡¯ Grunwald sent. Hope blossomed within the instant. Help was coming, in some form or another. Using Jules as a spring, they were quickly able to triangulate their exact coordinates. Sending that over to the officer, Cassandra once again got an answer. ¡®Good. You mentioned an altar. Are the cultists surrounding it, and what is the radius of this circle?¡¯ Grunwald questioned. The woman couldn''t understand the logic, asking questions that would have only worked with the prior one being affirmative. It was as if¡­ he was asking them for documentation. As if they would need all they could for later proof. ¡®Yes, they are in a circle, approximately fifteen meters in radius,¡¯ Cassandra answered quickly. She wanted to hurry them, but knew that it would do little else but only delay it further. ¡®Okay, Cass, I need you to hear this. We have the coordinates now, and we need you to retreat more than a hundred meters away. Preferably more, if you can,¡¯ Grunwald sent without further explanation. It didn''t make sense. ¡®Why?¡¯ Cassandra questioned. Why was this being asked of her? ¡®Cass, I need you to move out immediately,¡¯ Grunwald sent. ¡®Why do I need to move out? What is happening?¡¯ Cassandra sent right back. Actions were being made without her being notified. This wasn''t protocol. Something was being done without her knowledge while she was the only one at the scene. ¡®Command decided that the threat was too high. If they learned their leader was imprisoned, they would attack us without hesitation. For the sake of our security, the higher-ups have decided to send in a strike. Now get away from there. The missile will hit within forty seconds,¡¯ Grunwald sent. It took Cassandra a moment to realise what had been sent to her. The next was spent considering trying to get the child. The third was spent being dragged along by Jules since the construct had been listening along. She was positively thrown on the automations shoulder at that point, the woman refusing to run herself. Cassandra didn''t mean to have been an annoyance. She just couldn''t bear to look away. They had taken ninety-five long steps away when the missile hit. The impact shocked her, even from the distance they were at, and the sound made a small pop come from her ears. But¡­ it faded quickly enough. Grunwald sent her another message, but she just ignored it. Cassandra just looked in the direction of the former camp, knowing it was barely anything but ash now. Ash, bone, and torn fabrics. Chapter 335: Shine
A sulfurous odour filled the air, making Jared wrinkle his nose. It penetrated his nose without hesitation. If this had been the first time he had tried to taste it in the air, he might just have had himself a coughing fit, the sensation of his burning throat, not something that could be endured without preparation. Yet as he looked over the camp of the dead, he was reminded of just how many times he had seen that very same sight. It might have been in different sizes, with different people, but the scenery very rarely changed when it came to the smell. There were only so many ways human flesh could be burnt, and Jared had seen most of them. Skipping over a surprisingly whole body, Jared spent a moment looking over the corpse, just to make sure it was in fact a corpse. He had just entered the clearing itself, making it peculiar to see a body already at his feet. He guessed that some on the outskirts of the circle might have seen or heard the missile before it landed, able to run a few more steps away before it landed. Checking the eyes and pulse, the officer was happy to find the body luckily dead. When he had heard that the missile used only barely had a kill-zone for the radius of the circle, Jared had been afraid that he would find bodies still alive. Those were always the worst. But, as the man looked over the unmoving corpses, he was glad that Cass¡¯s information was accurate. Speaking of that delicate flower¡­ Jared couldn''t help but sigh. She shouldn''t have looked. The officer knew that he should have objected to her going out and searching for the encampment, knowing fully what procedures could be done if the numbers were higher than expected. Cass might have been in the job for over a year, but she had yet to fully see what the position had to offer. She hadn''t experienced the horrors that would have to be accepted. Maybe that was why she had been so adamant about checking out the camp herself, speaking about some child that needed to be found. Jared guessed that might have been the so-called human sacrifice. Since the altar had been exactly where the missile had been directly aimed at, Jared would be surprised if he even found the slightest hint of a child being present. Looking at the middle of the clearing, he could see everything there had been well and utterly destroyed. The grass had been uprooted, dirt throwing to the sides. When the snow finally began again, most of it having been destroyed from the sheer heat of the impact, Jared could see shrapnel and dirt making a layer on top of the white powder. It shined beautifully in the sun. Bits and pieces of various objects littered the ground. Jared did his best not to stand on any of them, knowing exactly where some of them came from. But others¡­ They were given a wide berth for a very different reason. While Cass¡¯s report might have had bias attached, she had clearly not been lying about the number of weapons there had been. Even when broken from the missile, there were enough chambers to really see how much there had been. And from how it looked¡­ some had been carrying Incendiary grenades as well. Some had been activated during the initial strike, but there were a few on the ground that had yet to be sprung. Jared sighed, taking out one of the detectors that had been required to bring with him. It was a screen of sorts that could be held, transparent enough to see through. It was designed to be used as a more direct scanner of sorts, able to detect grenades and any other incendiary weapons from a distance. If not for the scanner, it would have been like walking through an active minefield. There was no way the officer would willingly interact with broken grenades that were able to blow at the slightest touch. And with the fact that some of them were likely still hanging onto the bodies of the dead, bodies that Jared was obligated to thoroughly search for anything of note, the officer clearly had his work cut out for him. At least they were all adults. Every single one of them was over the age of twenty. Maybe even thirty. Jared wasn''t really sure, his own age making it increasingly harder to see the difference. Yet another symptom of ageing that he wouldn''t have minded not having. The mind that had once been so sharp was losing its edge with use. He could only guess at the time where it would be dull. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Jared shook his head, throwing himself out of what would have been an eternity spent reminiscing about the past. He was out on a mission, a task that needed to be completed within the day, and there was no time for breaks to begin with. He had gone through an entire MRE on his way in the car, so there was no chance of him lacking the energy. The only thing he needed was willpower. And so it started right up. Taking the scanner in hand, he went through the first corpse of the day. It lay still in the snow, lying on its stomach. Red stains surrounded it, likely made from projectiles having penetrated its body. Or¡­ Jared supposed he should have called the corpse a she. He needed to remember doing that, lest he really would disassociate from the work before him. Seeing no alerts on the scan, he went down on his knees and flipped the dead woman over and made her lie on her back instead. The cold had stopped the worst of the effects of death, but the skin was clearly still being affected by the snow. Spots were starting to appear. It wasn''t as extreme as on a living body, but frostbite had clearly still set in. A gruesome site to be sure, but not one that Jared even flinched at. He searched the pockets, going through the sides for any hidden weapons. A small knife was in one of the sleeves, a taser on the thigh, and a revolver was hidden on the back. Whoever this was, they had been more than prepared to be disarmed. Jared grew mildly curious of the person''s history to the point where he almost wanted to dig a little deeper. Then Jared remembered that he was searching through the personal belongings of a corpse, and his curiosity deflated the slightest bit. Scanning her facial features and the teeth, the officer ran a scan through the system, searching for any identities in the country that fit the bill. Nobody came up. The woman was without identity, likely a refugee from another country entirely. Jared wasn''t too surprised. The one they followed had been in many different places. It made sense that he had picked a few up along the way. ¡®The traps have been disarmed,¡¯ came in from the entity that Jared had hoped would fail in their task. It was peculiar that his mood could fall even further than it already had. ¡®Would you like for me to bring the car to your location?¡¯ Along with the process of clean-up and identification of the corpses, Jared had been instructed to disarm any and all traps that could be found leading up to the encampment. As had been reported by Cassandra, there were a lot of them, with some having possibly lethal attacks if triggered. Since he had luckily had an expendable resource at hand, he had sent his automation over to disarm them. That it would succeed in such a short time¡­ Jared did nothing but clench his fast in mild frustration. Getting angry would do nothing. He was in an active minefield. Anger would only lead to him making mistakes. ¡®No. Go wait in the car,¡¯ Jared ordered. He got no response, but the GPS on the construct told him all he needed to know. There was not a chance he would let that thing drive around. The damage that could come from it¡­ almost made him shiver. No way would he be getting the blame from that. Looking back to the encampment, Jared sighed, before getting into work mode once again. The actual process was easy enough. Scan the ground where he walked until he came to a corpse, scan that instead to make sure that there wasn''t anything that could make him sneeze too loudly, search through the corpse''s former belongings, and finally try to identify the face and dental records. Surprisingly enough, there were a few successes on that last front. It seemed that the older man had recruited a good ten of them a decade back, all done front to back. They had even formerly been in the same general area. Jared had made himself chuckle a bit at that, musing to himself just what kind of sales techniques had been used. Heroin, maybe. Most of them had been extreme drug users, some of the people have a criminal record for aggravated assault. There was even a murder. Jared had found it hard to believe that those people were all drug users, honestly. Most of them hadn''t had as much as a single scar, nor any of the normal hints that ticked him off about drug users. None of the weight loss, none of the broken teeth, and none of the veins showing. They all looked healthy and well, and some of them even seemed younger than their years would hint at. As he got further into the clearing, however¡­ The officer saw less success in the identification of the corpses. He even had it hard finding complete enough bodies to identify. Lethal wounds littered a lot of the faces. That did make sense, weirdly enough. From the pictures of the altar that had been sent, the missile had it in at the height of the waist. When that was mixed with everybody having enough time to look up at it, and them being down on their knees, most of the blast would have hit the cultists face first. Jared¡­ was not happy about having evidence for this theory. The faces couldn''t be seen as what the name hinted at. The features were destroyed, long pieces of torn flesh having been ripped out. Legs had been ripped off, arms had been fractured, and the upper body had been shredded with metal. Blood littered the ground in spurts, showing off exactly where each person had been. Jared couldn''t say he felt much at the sight at that point. His mind had turned off his reactions. It was all just a job. Scanning, searching, identifying. The last part was redundant at that point, but he did it nonetheless. There were no successes. As the last phase of clean-up began, the bodies were removed from their resting places, put in a big pile down the road. Jared then went around activating any piece of incendiary device that hadn''t blown up. They weren''t allowed to leave them there as they were, but neither were they able to bring them back. There were likely defects, making the safest decision to activate them from a distance. There had to have been over a hundred of the bastards. Jared idly wondered just what they had planned to use them for. But he didn''t wonder for long, going back to work not long after. He was the only one doing it, and there was no real chance of finishing before the day was over, if he didn''t pick up his pace. Chapter 336: Triumph
A small disturbance in the attic owned by an old woman, an apparent trespasser that turned out to be a bird building a nest, and a wannabe thief that had stolen an old TV from a shop that had already been broken into the night before. What did all these three have in common, save for Cassandra not truly caring about any of them? She was the one who had to deal with them. It was supposed to be Jared doing it all, that man having been put into the spot originally. But, as it turned out, Grunwald had the full authority to switch the two positions, Cassandra getting Jared¡¯s task and the other officer getting hers. She had no say in the matter, no matter how much she complained. Not that she did complain that much, one half-hearted being made before she was shot down completely. And now she was forced to do this for the rest of the time she had there. Or that''s how it had been phrased, at least. Officer Grunwald had wanted to go so far as to put her on temporary leave and let her rest for a week, but their already small numbers would have made that a logistical nightmare. Cassandra had reminded the man of that several times. She was supposed to have triumphed from that. Her words of logic were meant to show off that she was still fully capable, that there was no problem with sending her back into the fray. She needed to go back there. Cassandra needed to see it with her own eyes. Yet her superior officer had seen it differently. He had looked at her with blank eyes and had reassigned her the moment she tried to speak. Just¡­ it made her want to hit something. So Cassandra did, hitting the wall she stood by. It made quite the oomph, as it stabilized after her side-punch. It hadn''t been enough to truly cause any structural damage, but the woman had still been packing some serious power. If she made another try, there was a chance her fist would have a permanent imprint on the wall. Wasn''t that a calming thought, knowing fully how powerful her body was, yet she was still not allowed to go back to the place that had already been eradicated of life? Jules stood by her, activating various scanners on the vehicle they had at their disposal. They were currently searching for a lost wallet since that was obviously the only real task that a highly specialized force was allowed to do. Sure, it held more money than Cassandra would likely ever get her hands on, but she did not care about that fact in the slightest. She just knew that she could be doing much more than what she was currently doing, standing by a wall and twiddling her thumbs at nothing in particular. She didn''t even need to be here. What was her role in all of this? Sit back and watch a piece of machinery do all the needed work? Cassandra didn''t sign up as an overseer, so why exactly had she been put in that position. There was no glory, no justice, no anything in doing nothing but watching others work. Cassandra had joined the force because she fully knew what she was capable of. She would rise to the top formidable, and she would do her best along the way. She would be one of the shining stars, and she would be the one that almost shined the brightest. It would have been wonderful, exactly what she wanted, and most certainly not what was happening right now. They shuffled ten steps to the left, as the car finished scanning one road, moving others to the next on the list. Cassandra hoped that they would find that damn wallet, lest they would need to follow the old man¡¯s path to work, stopping every ten steps for five minutes. He had to have lost it somewhere. Cassandra thought that the old bastard better have lost it somewhere close to his house. If Cassandra ended up finding nothing after an entire day of searching and then figuring out that the old man had just misplaced it in his upper drawer, there was a serious chance that she would slap that prick so hard that it would- "You¡¯re doing it again," Jules commented from the side. Cassandra looked over at the automation, but no eyes met hers. The construct was fully focused on the screen in front of it. Or so it seemed from the body language at least, but the woman had learned that the automation could be deceiving in that way. It only showed what it wanted to show, after all. "What exactly have I been doing, to begin with?" Cassandra questioned, narrowing her eyes at the scrap bucket. She still resented it for what it had done. Jules had had no permission to force her to retreat. There had been a plan to retrieve the child, and that piece of scrap had ruined it for her. She could have succeeded, and it just had to- "What you¡¯re doing right now," Jules stated, finally looking over at her. There wasn''t much emotion on its face, the construct just looking at her. It looked neither happy nor angry. Its face was just¡­ in sight, having as much emotion as a person that had been informed of their own mortality. "That anger-fueled tantrum that just can''t be stopped from showing itself on your face. You¡¯re slipping with your facade, Cassandra." If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "And so what? Nobody here doesn''t realise it," Cassandra answered, sitting down in the grass, not wanting to bother standing at that point. They were alone, the two of them, and she had nothing to really hide from that automation. It wasn''t alive. It had no real way to judge her. Yet¡­ even as she thought those words, that gaze being put on her really made that fact hard to believe. The construct''s stare was unwavering, much like the one she normally used. It made her angry that she avoided the gaze after a moment, looking down at the grass. That caused a sigh to come forth. "Yes. There is nobody around here to see it. But that doesn''t mean that Grunwald didn''t see it. And it doesn''t mean that Jared won''t see it the moment he sees your face as well. You¡¯re having serious trouble with your mask, and you can''t even realise it right now," Jules said, sitting down as well. The car automatically moved forward again, completing its scan of the nearby road. It was ignored since the automation was easily able to manage it from a distance. There was a protocol being broken because of that attitude, but neither of the entities seemed to care much about that fact. The construct could barely comment on anything the woman did. It didn''t have the same troubles as her! Jules had no worries about its face changing without it knowing exactly what it was doing. Cassandra always had to make sure how she acted, lest her body would show off her true colours. It would show her spite, her anger, her wrath at those she was around every day. If she slipped up for but a moment, everything she had worked for could be ruined. ¡­ Gods, she had slipped up in front of her superior. Cassandra could barely remember the conversation, could barely think back to how she had been acting. How had she moved, how had she talked, how had she looked to be? No thought had been put into any of it. Her body had acted as it would do without instruction. Was¡­ was that why she had failed. Just what had she shown off? Just how much had her career been ruined? "I need to get back to the clearing," Cassandra stated, getting up from her position and starting to move over to the car. Yet, she never got more than two steps, Jules having grabbed it and pulled her right back down to the ground. She had more strength than most strong men, but she could barely feel any chance of her having been able to resist that pull. The automation had both weight and strength in its size. "You don''t need to get back to anything. We will both be sitting right here and enjoying ourselves in peace," Jules stated. The construct didn''t let go of her hand, making it impossible for Cassandra to get up. Not that she didn''t try, of course. Even when pushing with her legs at full power, she was unable to even make the automation budge. Oh, what she would have given for the override codes. "Calm down¡­ please." ¡­ Cassandra looked at Jules, expecting another instance where she was met with a face-planted onto a screen. But, she did not find anything but the construct having its full attention on her, face looking slightly pleading. It wanted her to sit down. It looked worried about her. Maybe that was what made her relax for a moment, sitting down on her ass, and hitting her head into the wall as she completely relaxed her back. It would have been a lie to say it didn''t hurt, but she didn''t really care at that point. Cassandra just needed to sit down and do nothing. This¡­ this was something she could do. If Jules wanted it from her, then this wasn''t anything she would disobey with. "... I¡¯m a terrible person," Cassandra finally said, looking down at the grass. Jules didn''t hold her at that point, but neither did she try to get up, her mind intent on looking within instead. Why was she here? What was even the point of it all? She had cheated, lied, manipulated, and had done so many things for a goal she would likely never achieve. She had watched idly, knowing she could have stopped others from making mistakes that cost them their jobs. She might never have done anything directly, but her inaction at points had caused so many losses. "You just might be. Welcome to the club of self-reflection, I suppose," Jules said. Cassandra noted the lack of rejection that the automation was giving her. "Aren''t you supposed to deny my statement? Say I''m a good person and all that shit?" Cassandra questioned, looking over at the construct with narrowed eyes. "Maybe. But, I think we both know I would be lying at that point. And¡­ what good could ever come from that. Nobody likes doing it," Jules answered, taking a few blades of grass from the place they sat. The snow wasn''t as extreme next to the buildings. "Few people like doing anything, really." "Why do I even do this?" Cassandra asked. Jules didn''t answer her, so she continued her rant. "I don''t like Jared, I don''t like Grunwald, and I sure as hell don''t like this fucking city. Nobody is civilized, everybody complains, racists are rampant, and the things they do are absolutely despicable. There is so much here worth burning to the ground, and nobody has the balls to do it. I-" Cassandra stopped, slumping down even further down to the ground. At that point, she wasn''t even sitting, closer to lying on her side. She had done it now, saying all the wrong things at the wrong time. That is if the wrong time could be counted as every moment of her working life. "And¡­ now both of those bastards know my opinions about them," Cassandra stated. "They¡¯re gonna look at my file, see just what I¡¯ve said, and then go ballistic about it. Do you think I¡¯ll be fired immediately or they¡¯ll wait for some other reason to come up?" "I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be fired at all, actually," Jules stated casually. But¡­ that hint of a smile along those lips ticked Cassandra off about something being wrong. Something was going on its head. She would have delved into her mind to figure out just what it was, but she respected the privacy that had been set up instead. And there still was another way to figure it out anyway. "Just what do you mean by that?" Cassandra asked. "Well, I am currently working as your therapist. Comes with the skill-set and all. And¡­ as your therapist, I have localized one of your points of stress being that others know your private information. With the laws set in place during the privacy breach of ¡®83, I am allowed to increase the requirement to access your files, to the point that it will require a higher-level administrator to oversee any inquiries about your information. In other words, the two fish-fingers you call co-workers will not know shit all about you from now on." "... You are a good person, Jules," Cassandra muttered, before getting up and walking over to the car. She had no intention of taking control of it and driving over to the clearing. She just wanted to uphold protocol. Jules didn''t stop her. It just sat back from a moment, contemplating how to handle the human¡¯s response. In the end, it did nothing but smile silently and get up as well. ¡®I am glad you think of me in that way.¡¯ Chapter 337: Bowie
When they finally found the wallet, Cassandra had hardly remembered that they had been looking for it to begin with. Her mind must have been elsewhere. Or maybe it had been nowhere at all. Everywhere in the void, full of nothing at all. It didn''t make sense, but she couldn''t get herself to care so much. Her hands still shook a little, her mind still wanting to go back to that clearing. But she didn''t act on it. She was content with her current situation Or¡­ maybe content wasn''t the right word for it. Because she wasn''t content at all, actually. Cassandra had just accepted that nothing else was on the menu for her. Trying to get the keys to the car and driving to where the missile had hit would only result in her being stopped before she took the first five steps. It would end in failure, no matter what she would try. And even if she got there¡­ What then? What did she expect to happen? That she could roll back time, get the kid and get out of there in time? It had already been an impossible situation to start with, no chance of it ever truly working out in her favour. The child would have died no matter what she did. Nothing could have been done about it. Cassandra was still angry at herself for not doing the impossible, angry at Jules for stopping her from trying, and angry at Grunwald for taking a hard decision that likely stopped much blood from being shed. That old man had done what he could, and the woman was beginning to accept that fact. He had used the tools he had at hand to determine the chance of civilian casualties. When asking for any signs of the child being alive, Cassandra had responded in the negative, not truly able to provide proof of the opposite. So¡­ in a way, it hadn''t truly been a murder. Grunwald had taken the child as dead and had decided to eradicate a force large enough to destroy the police station with everybody inside. All things considered, it had been the best choice to make. When put in the same position, Cassandra didn''t doubt that she would have done the same. Yet that still didn''t stop her from loathing him, just as she would have loathed herself for it. That uncertainty about the child being alive or not just wouldn''t stop from intruding in her mind. It had likely been dead, yet the idea of her being directly responsible for having the missile be sent directly into that small delicate body¡­ It was gut-wrenching. Cassandra hadn''t been trained to accept that she had to kill kids. Nowhere had kids ever been mentioned. Adults? She could kill an adult. Cassandra had done it before and she could do it again without flinching. Being put into situations where her faltering meant her death had helped but that matters to rest. Yet kids just couldn''t spark that same instinct from her. Who could look at a small child and fear that they might be a killer? If Cassandra saw one charging at her with a knife, she would have dropped her gun to embrace it instead. There was no chance she could ever do it. If she as much as suspected that her actions would have led to that younglings death, it wouldn''t have happened to begin with. Taking a deep breath to get herself back into the present, Cassandra got herself together. The car was being driven by the automation, the two moving back to the apartment that had the old man inside. In her hand was the wallet. It was black, made of fake leather on the outside. The texture was off by a landslide, even if the appearance was uncanny. Cassandra supposed there were restrictions on just how realistic it could be. Jules wasn''t speeding along this time, driving along at a comfortable speed. Looking at the speedometer, Cassandra was mildly surprised to see that the construct was actually below the speed limit. How grandiose a day it was, if not for the woman knowing exactly why it was happening. Her mask was back upon her face, her composure having been regained in the last few minutes. Nonetheless, Cassandra could clearly feel the instability within. Even if she had regained control of herself to some degree, she was still far from okay. And there was a chance that she wouldn''t be okay for a long time. They hadn''t been lying about how desperate they had been for officers. Cassandra was clearly unfit for continuing her duties for at least a month, yet she had been directly told she would be staying in her position. Yes, she had been moved over to the normal duties, but that didn''t mean much. In the end, she was still doing the job that had caused her to almost have a mental breakdown only a few hours prior. She supposed that she could just quit. There wasn''t anything stopping Cassandra from just¡­ saying goodbye and skipping town. Sure, she would have to sign a lot of paperwork, but most of it could be done within a single evening. Even if there was a need for her yearly health check-ups, there was no reason to really continue, looking at it with a health-oriented view. She was clearly not fit to remain, making leaving the best opportunity to take. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. And yet¡­ there wasn''t a chance of that happening. Cassandra was staying right where she was. Her dreams, her goals, and everything else in her life were directly connected to the position she held, and leaving it suddenly would do nothing but cut her ties with every dream she had ever created for herself. She was too old to start from the bottom again, retirement coming before any of the large promotions. The woman would sooner be in her grave than be able to gain the leadership position she so desperately wanted to have a grip around. Looking at the automation beside her, it only fueled her desires already present. Cassandra would stay, even if it wasn''t healthy. She had ignored her own health before, in favour of the gains she could gain politically. If she had to become stressed, if she had to feel sick on the job, Cassandra would bear through it all. She would endure and she would prosper before the end. Nothing would stop her, willpower triumphing over every other hurdle there could be. "Your mask is slipping again," Jules pointed out in a singsong voice. Maybe it was an imitation of the emotion Cassandra herself felt at that moment. The woman didn''t particularly care, her mood having been improved by her aspirations. The ideas she had set for herself were like drugs to her, able to entice so much positivity in her life. It was the goal she strived for. Nevertheless, the mention of a slipping mask wasn''t something she could take lightly, especially when Cassandra had been so sure of it staying on. ¡®Not okay¡¯ indeed. Her mind had not prepared itself to automatically hold up that calm look she always wanted to be shown. Did she actually have to keep it up manually? How much of a pain the next few days were going to be because of it. "I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about," Cassandra answered, getting herself a once-over. One of the underappreciated utilities of a police vehicle was the mirrors. They were hardly ever used for looking at the road, their true abilities coming forth in the form of them being used for making sure that appearances were being kept up. Her hair was frizzy at the ends, looking nearly as impeccable as ever, and her face looked like that of a goddess. Cassandra at least thought so, knowing fully that the first step to beauty was full and utter confidence in herself. That confidence had not been portrayed during the initial meeting, being the reason why Jules had handled the talking then. But¡­ that wasn''t going to happen this time. Even if but a moment long, Cassandra had hated staying back and letting others do the talking. She had hated it during her time as a trainee and new cop, and she hated it more than ever now. Yet there had been a reason for it, so she supposed she would have to accept that it happened and get over it. Not now, however. This time, she would be the one on top. Even with the reduced speed, there was only so much distance that needed to be covered. The vehicle came to a halt outside the apartment building, and Cassandra stepped out with the elegance of a proud feline, without sound or anything indicating flaw. Everything was impeccable. With the wallet in hand, Cassandra walked up the stairs, not using the elevator, as protocol so demanded of them. Jules followed behind, looking as happy as ever. The woman hoped that smile would be wiped off within the next minute, for they had a civilian to meet. And as a rule that always needed to be followed, being seen as a human was never a good idea. Humans could be pushed around with. The force that brought security? They were never to be trifled yet Reaching the fourth floor, the hallway was walked down and the right room was found. The apartment building was for some of the richer of society, yet not rich enough to warrant a whole building for himself. Not like anybody of the truly rich would live in the city or stay there during a crisis such as the one they currently had. But¡­ Some were still rich enough to have wallets like the one Cassandra had in her hand, so there wasn''t really any strong criticism towards them. ¡®Whatever kept the economy alive,¡¯ Cassandra supposed. Knocking thrice, the door was opened within the minute, the stature of a more frail man was shown. Not that he wasn''t tall, nearing full one-eighty centimetres in height. Quite the height for a man with such a bent back. Cassandra could only wonder how tall he had been during his prime. "Your wallet has been found, Mr Bowie," Cassandra started professionally, handing the small wallet to the old man. It was received with no immediate questions, allowing the woman to continue. "If you would be so kind as to verify its contents, we can make sure that everything is in order." The old man nodded, opening up the smaller leather packet. The woman wasn''t entirely sure what was supposed to be in those things, nowadays. Nearly all currency had moved to the digital side of things, and those bills still floating around were hard to use if not nearly impossible. Even the bank had a hard time accepting them. Nevertheless, the man did seem to find all things in order. Cassandra didn''t stare for too long either. Closing the wallet, the man put it in his pocket and looked up at Cassandra. She could see directly into his sunken eyes and the old man likewise stared right into hers. "You are more gentle now. Your movements have become serene," the old man stated, with a curious tone to him. Cassandra could have requested such comments to be stopped but felt in the mood to hear him out. "So much change in so little time. Mind I ask how this was done?" That¡­ was a loaded question. And not one that would have ever been asked. The chances of the records being looked at were too high, after all, and answering in too high detail could be the reason for a promotion opportunity being lost. Yet¡­ that threat had been lost somewhat, her records having been sealed. A smile sprouted at the thought, one made intentionally. She was in full control of the situation. "I was helped along from a serious temper tantrum. It has worked wonders on my mood," Cassandra answered, averting her eyes for a moment to sell the impression perfectly. She could almost hear the aww being sent her way. She loved it. The old man nodded when she reestablished the eyes meeting again. He seemed to understand perfectly. "Gentleness clears the soul, love cleans the mind and makes it free," the old man recited wholly, though Cassandra couldn''t have given three guesses on where it came from. "I like your answer. If I have any more problems, I will call you. I will see you at another time." With a nod of the head, which was mirrored in appreciation, the old man closed the door, locking it in his way. The eccentric quoting and quick farewell might have caused some annoyance to Cassandra before, yet a genuine smile couldn''t help but come forth. The day might have been bad overall, yet even it could have some bright moments attached. Cassandra only hoped the average could be turned favourably soon. The day would not end soon, after all. Chapter 338: Boundaries
Just how much had they scavenged over the years? How many strongholds were found, basements upturned, and old collections had been destroyed? Jared asked himself just that, as he finally got the last handful of weapons into the car, each individual piece having been given a tag. It had taken three full drives back and forth, but he had finally reached the last batch. The day had passed so quickly, the sun beginning to set just as he got into the car. It had been a hard day''s work, but it was work he was proud of having accomplished. It would have normally taken a full week of trained personnel to get through, but he had done it all in less than a quarter of the time. If that wasn''t an example of a good work ethic, the man didn''t know what it was. Jared just knew that he deserved to lean back in the car seat, sigh deeply, and give himself a mental pat on the back. If he had followed the path of his old man, he might even have brought out a cigarette. Not that he even thought about doing something like that. Jared prized his lungs too much, already unhappy about how short a distance he could run. And it just continued getting shorter by the day¡­ That was enough brooding for one day. Putting on a small smirk, Jared fished out the keys from his pocket, putting it into the car, and starting the old piece of work. It had been with the force for a good two decades, and the car had seen its share of disasters along the way. The man couldn''t help but resonate with that a tad, the caress of the steering wheel done purely out of nostalgia. Jared felt pressure on his skin. Looking to the right, he saw the automation giving him a side-glance. It quickly turned its eyes back the moment they met, however, looking forward immediately after. Debating whether to mention it or not, Jared decided to preserve his good mood. It wasn''t every day he got to such levels of satisfaction, and ruining it all by taking his anger out on a piece of scrap would help nobody. The brake was pulled, and off they were, driving down the shoddy road. Jared had never been one to drive off-road, preferring the clean asphalt more than anything. On the paved roads, there was none of the jumping, no sudden bumps, and certainly no chances of having the car damaged. The road they drove on was all of those mixed together, creating what the man could only think of as hell on earth. If he even thought about driving a bit faster than walking speed, rocks would start jumping up on the underside of the car, causing all kinds of dangerous sounds to be heard. While it did not damage the vehicle outright, the number of scratches were worrying enough in itself. That did take up a lot of time. With the trees in the way, it was a lot darker than he had wanted it to be, Jared having to put on the headlights to even see anything. And¡­ they just had to be smeared with mud. Honestly, this day couldn''t have gotten worse than this. Driving slowly through melted snow turned into mud, after having done physical work his entire day. His body most definitely needed to rest when he got back to the station. Never mind that, actually. Jared felt his body needed rest now. But¡­ sitting at the wheel of a car able to drive faster than most people could comprehend, he didn''t feel too safe power-napping. A year ago, when put in a similar situation, he would have asked his partner to take over for him so he could get his well-deserved rest. Yet¡­ Looking over at the scrap-pile once again, Jared saw it sitting motionless, not moving a single muscle, or whatever those things had instead of it. While it looked like a statue, Cass had mentioned how well it worked as a driver. Surely, there was no way it could fail at such a low speed. ¡­ Nah. Jared couldn''t get himself to accept it. Sighing once again, he refocused on the road ahead. He was tired, his muscles needed to rest, and his mind was beginning to wander easily. Yet there was not a chance he would put the control over to the construct beside him. It would sit in its place and not say a word. That was the order given to it, and it was the order that he wouldn''t back down from. He had pride on his side, no matter how much he disliked it. Jared was too prideful sometimes, and he understood that. He also understood that pridefulness was something that couldn''t easily be gotten rid of, no matter how much effort he put into the task. It was the reason he tried to push his boundaries in terms of strength, it was the reason he joined the force, and it was the reason he refused to leave it. His goal had been to rise from the position he started with, never having setbacks. The massive increase from becoming augmented had only fueled that pride of his, happiness setting in alongside it. His pride of seeing others like him bloom into prideful people, ready to take on everything in their path. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. He had been filled with pride when helping others through hard times, hard times on the work, and hard times in private. So many people had been stopped from falling because of the pride that he had instilled in them. Maybe those experiences were the reason Jared was afraid to let go of his own. Would he fall? Would he plunge to the depths he started at, knowing fully that he would never rise again? Jared feared the darkness below, for he knew it could never be escaped. And because of that, his pride refused to let him take the first step down there. He refused to let go of the one thing that allowed him to still cling to the pride he had helped others gain. And¡­ it wasn''t like he had done it well enough with any of the others. Their pride had changed over the years, the pride shifting from their position and to themself instead. They had changed, yet Jared had been static throughout it all. He had never moved on. A small sniffle was heard in the car, yet nobody dared to create information about the source of it. Not like the sound was heard again, the reason destroyed as quickly as it came, the emotion bottled up once again. Jared was too tired for work. He needed to get back to his room, needed to lie on his bed and rest his head. Was it the work of the day? Was the dead expressions on the dead bodies the reason for his memories flooding back into him? Jared certainly felt a tad younger, almost able to hear the voices of those who had walked away from their positions, one way or another. The drops of dried blood on his fingers caused nostalgia, but not in the way that he wanted. Just what- The sound of grinding came from the underside of the car. Jared just sighed, having a general idea of what had happened. In his moments lost within, his foot had gotten a bit heavier than it should have, and the consequences had certainly shown themselves. Looking up into the sky, he noted the extreme darkening. It was getting much too late for this kind of stuff. An attempt was made to simply slow down and continue, yet the unstoppable grinding made it clear that something big had been wedged into the underside. It wasn''t going to fall out just because of him slowing down for a second. Jared would have to remove this one himself. Unbuckling himself from his seat, he opened the door and got out of the car. A miniature flashlight was fished out from his pocket. Getting down on his knees, Jared got his head closer to the ground to see under the car. With his flashlight pointed on the underside, he systematically checked through what there was to see. The inferior light only allowed so much light, with much of it being directed to a single point. Nevertheless, Jared was able to surmount that there wasn''t any damage at the back of the car, nothing hinting at the battery having been hit. That was good news. Likewise, there weren''t any notable scratches in the middle. Some minor ones to the exterior, yes, but nothing like what had created that god-awful sound from before. Jared could only surmise that the object must have been lodged in the front. Point his light there, the man took a calm gaze there, ready to stick in his hand and¡­ There was no rock. Not that Jared hadn''t found the source of his troubles for the minute, but it most certainly wasn''t a piece of stone lodged in. Putting his head up again, he looked through the open side of the car, his eyes glinting as the light hit his eyes. The automation looked over at him this time with a full turn of its head. It was likely wondering what was wrong. "You seemed to have failed at the task set out for you," Jared noted, once again taking a look at what they had driven over. At first glance, it might have seemed like a piece of untangled wire, but upon further inspection, it was clearly so much more than that. "Your incompetence got the car stuck." It was what was commonly known as a vehicle-stopper. The wire was stronger than anybody could guess from a glance and thin enough to not be seen in worse lighting conditions. And¡­ whenever it was driven over, it would tangle itself up with the car in an instant. If any attempt were made to brute force it, the car¡¯s innards would be destroyed long before the wire was scratched. A common trap. Easy to make, easy to set up, and extremely effective in the right conditions. And it should also have been extremely able to notice and remove during the time that the automation had been put to disable any traps on the road. With the number of hours granted to that job, Jared had been sure that it could have at least done a good job, yet what he saw was yet another reason to stop any attempts at creating trust. The automation didn''t seem to have anything to say in its defence, removing its own gaze from Jared and looking around the road instead. It seemed determined to inspect the walls for close to a full ten seconds. Jared idly wondered if a response was hopeless and if he just needed to get the bolt cutters out immediately, yet the automation did finally turn back to him. "There was no trap here when I walked along the road," the construction informed him. Jared had a hard time believing that. "They''re very clearly was, seeing as we just hit it with the car," Jared stated. The other times they had gone ahead and dropped off the corpses and gear, they had taken the long road around so that the automation could double-check its work. Yet that had clearly not mattered much, since it had obviously missed one of the easy ones. "I walked along this path. If there had been a trap then, I would have triggered it myself," the construct stated, before switching over to the police channel. ¡®I believe we are being ambushed.¡¯ Even if his ears were old, Jared still heard the mild rustling of a bush being pushed slightly aside. If not for him jumping in and shutting the door behind him, a bullet would have entered the back of his head. They were indeed being ambushed. Attempting to immediately send out a distress signal, Jared was met with an error. Jamming? He didn''t know or care. The man just knew he had to survive this by his own will. Chapter 339: Fire
His head was running on full adrenaline, and his hands were grasping for the weapon at his thigh. Jared had to shake his leg around for a quick moment before it finally got loose enough for him to get it out of its holster and fully into his hand. Quite the achievement, since his position was making it hard to even move. How strong had the bullet been? Jared couldn''t clearly remember the sound of the impact, but it clearly wasn''t hard enough to get through the car¡¯s door. Yet even if one wasn''t enough to get through the metal, there were no promises about it being the same for the glass. That was why they were not being given the chance. During his jump inside the vehicle, Jared had dragged the upper body of the automation down with him, stopping it from being seen from the outside. Since the road itself was slightly higher up than the grounds the trees stood on, there was a bit of ease during it. Yet that didn''t make it that easy, Jared fully feeling karma for not having done his stretches in the last few weeks. His back was killing him already. Not that this made him feel any desire towards stretching, that act likely being the last thing he would ever get to do. Instead, he gave the construct a glance that very much implied the need to stay down, before crawling through the crack between the two seats and into the back of the car. The glass was tinted there, enough that the man felt safe enough to slightly peek over the next row of seats. It was just his luck that their weapon repertoire had been moved around to make space for all the scavenged gear. Jared knew that he had been going slightly against protocol in doing so, yet there had been no ideas about the real consequences. The boss would only have slapped him on the wrists for it. Now¡­ the man would be happy to even see those slaps in person. ¡®Are the cameras on the outside working?¡¯ Jared questioned the automation through the channel, as he got out the box with one of the smaller rifles. He could hardly remember anything about it, save for how to assemble it. The man had actually gotten commendations for that, being able to do it in under thirty seconds. Gods, he hoped he could still do just that, even if he hadn''t tried it under pressure in under a decade. ¡®The cameras in the back had been scratched up, but movement can still be detected to a minimal degree. The cameras on the back and sides are fully functioning,¡¯ the automation quickly informed the man. Through his ears, Jared could hear a mild muttering going on from outside. It was faint, barely enough to get out from the noisy static that came from the breeze. Yet Jared could still hear it just fine, his ears having been trained to pick up the slightest hint. It came with the position after all. ¡®And what about the camera on top?¡¯ Jared questioned, wanting to know how much utility they had at their disposal. The back camera being damaged wasn''t good, but it would still be workable if they could- ¡®This car is too old for that implementation,¡¯ the construct informed him. Jared wished in some way that the automation had put emotion into that sentence, just so he knew that he wasn''t the only one feeling the dread that came with it. That top camera would have been able to give them a complete three-sixty degree view of the exterior. And with the fact that it couldn''t be damaged through normal means, Jared had been sure of their increased chances of survival when using it. Now? Now, he was having a harder time believing that he would survive the next ten minutes. Looking down at his work, he hardly blinked, putting the various parts in the placements they needed to be. The innards of the barrel was the hardest, Jared cursing as he fumbled with the placement. ¡®One is approaching from the left,¡¯ the automation dully informed him. Giving it a side-glance, Jared could see that the construct was lying where he had left it. The man supposed that it didn''t feel fear and therefore didn''t feel a need to constantly jitter its fingers and twitch its teeth. It looked just as about as dead as he guessed he would be. ¡®The person of interest is equipped with what seems to be an AA-12.¡¯ Just his luck. Cassandra had warned them of there being shot-gun wielders, yet Jared just hadn''t taken it seriously when he hadn''t found anything of the kind during his time cleaning up the clearing. Now he knew why. They hadn''t been there when he was doing it. ¡®How close is the target and where are they heading?¡¯ Jared asked, his fingers trembling while holding the ammunition. Just his luck that there hadn''t been any preparation on that part. Then again, it was only meant as an emergency use-only weapon, so he supposed he couldn''t have been too angry at himself. ¡®They are five meters away and are casually approaching the door opposite to the one you''re leaning your head against.¡¯ That was just great. Just absolutely great. Jared certainly wouldn''t have given his left kidney to not be where he was right now. In his attempt to finally load the weapon and get a bullet into the chamber, the man was unlucky enough to find that it was allowing him to do so. Something was not working as it was supposed to. ¡®He is within reaching distance of the car. Facial expressions suggest that he is looking for something. Guesses are towards this target being us. I advise-¡¯ Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡®Shut up and tell me what he is doing,¡¯ Jared sent back in frustration, the rifle not loading a bullet no matter how hard he tried to get it under his will. Did he actually need to deconstruct it to figure out what was wrong? No, he didn''t have the time! Then what else? What could he do as an alternative? His pistol? No, that would be enough piercing. It wasn''t powerful enough. Just what could he- ¡®I believe you have been spotted. The target is starting to lift his weapon,¡¯ the automation sent. It was fair to note that the message sent happened over an instant, faster than the human body could possibly react. It was faster than the sounds getting transmitted from the ear. Maybe that was how Jared got himself in order. With a swift punch to the side, something suddenly decided to dislodge itself from wherever it had been stuck. Jared was able to ready the rifle up, put it in position, and press the trigger hard enough to cause slight pain in his hand. Not that it mattered much about the pain, since the man was much more focused on keeping the recoil steady. He only held it down for about a second, yet it was still more than ten rounds fired. Ten rounds in about the same spot on a piece of glass. It might have held up to the first shot, and maybe even the fourth. Yet the fifth and everything after that went through cleanly enough, right into the throat of the criminal that had stood behind the window. For a second, he was able to see right through the man, the holds held open in that small time. The power the rifle packed was no joke at all, and Jared was able to witness that in his adrenaline-fueled mind, just as he was able to see the man slump to the floor. For a moment there had been an attempt to get at his neck, yet the hand had fallen limp before it was barely halfway. Jared felt no real remorse for that. He only listened to the shout of shock that came from outside the car. Whoever had ambushed the car had been more than a single person. Closing his eyes for a second, only the sound of his own breathing and a single pair of footsteps was heard. If there was more than one person out there, they were damned good at being quiet. Checking quickly to see if his connection to the station was still being jammed, Jared tried to think about his possible choices. Try to wait it out? Wouldn''t be advised. With an easy-to-reach hole in their defences, a single incendiary grenade was more than enough to blow him to kingdom high. And even if he threw the first one back before it blew, nothing stopped the ones outside from just timing the next perfectly. They would die before anything else notable happened. Try to make a run for it? Jared would guess that they came from the other side of the one he sat on. It would be fairly easy to slip out the back and try to run as fast as he could. Even if his legs were tired, he was still faster than any regular human could ever hope to become. And with the criminals'' reliance on exterior technology, he wasn''t guessing at them being able to catch up to him. Yet¡­ that was just that, wasn''t it? They didn''t need to catch up to him. There was no need to lay a single finger on him when one had access to weapons that could create a disk-plate-wide opening in his chest cavity. Even with the vest he wore, a direct hit could still likely kill him. Jared couldn''t hide and he could run. What else was there to do, other than neutrality and defence? Offence. If the outcome was invariably ending up as him fighting for his life, he could at least do his best to make the chances higher for him. ¡®Are there any signs of the last criminal?¡¯ Jared questioned, making sure his rifle was still working fine. Even if the current magazine was half-full, the man still changed it around. There was a feeling he would need every last one of them. `Other than the exclamation ten seconds ago, there have been no clues to their current location,¡¯ the automation responded. There was a feeling that it wanted to give him advice, but Jared¡¯s orders in that regard had clearly worked perfectly. No additional words were coming out of that trap. No real idea about where the criminal was, except for the side of the car that they were located. Going outside would be close to suicide when Jared didn''t even have a clue about where he needed to hide. He needed more information if he was going to have a chance. Which¡­ was probably where he got the idea about his next course of action. ¡®Watch the cameras for the source of the bullet,¡¯ Jared ordered, as he tore a piece of his uniform off himself, sticking it to the end of his rifle. He would have prefered a stick, but there was no real way he would be able to get one of those. ¡®What bullet?¡¯ the construct questioned. ¡®The bullet that will be coming from the would-be killer in just a few seconds,¡¯ Jared informed the construct, creating some padding to make the fabric look worn. More specifically, to make it look like a bad position made it be slightly exposed. Putting it up a few centimetres above where his actual shoulder was, there was no real reaction. Not entirely unexpected, just showing off that the criminal was close enough to the point where they couldn''t see too far into the car. The fake shoulder was lifted another few finger lengths, however, and the light show truly showed itself. The padding was torn to shreds, as the fake shoulder was hit directly through the middle. If it had been his actual shoulder, Jared didn''t doubt that he would have cried out in pain, even his pain tolerance being way too low to not emit sound at the direct hit. But¡­ he did not peep in the slightest, only slightly uncomfortable by the ringing noise in his ears. Not like it wouldn''t go away soon, but he just didn''t like it. ¡®Did you get the location?¡¯ ¡®Location found. Target is hiding behind a bush seven meters from the door. I have marked it through a visual ping in your sight.¡¯ Through the door and the car in general, Jared was momentarily able to see the landscape there was to look at. In it, there even was a bright circle indicating where the presumed hiding spot was. Not¡­ the greatest spot that they could have been in, looking at it from Jared''s own perspective. No obvious weakness, no tree to run to. No place to hide, the open area working against him. Really, there was only one way forward that Jared could see. ¡®I need you to perform covering fire for me,¡¯ Jared sent through the channel. He started to hand over the rifle to the automation but was quickly met by a response. ¡®I do not have training for covering fire, and the jammer is stopping me from accessing additional information about the task. I am not able to perform the task you require of me.¡¯ Jared sighed, having heard that excuse before. For an idiot robot, it seemed so human at times like these. Or¡­ maybe the adrenaline was finally hitting his head the wrong way. It was likely that. He was getting kind of doozy from the downtime. ¡®Do you know how to shoot with a rifle?¡¯ ¡®Affirmative.¡¯ ¡®Do you know how to aim with a rifle?¡¯ ¡®Affirmative.¡¯ ¡®Do you remember the general location of the target?¡¯ ¡®Affirmative, but-¡¯ ¡®I don''t care about your supposedly vital details. When I say go, you will get up from that distasteful position you¡¯re in and fire at the criminal through the window. It does not matter that you hit or not, but only that you distract them for the next few seconds. Is that understood?¡¯ ¡®... yes.¡¯ Finally, some progress with that scrap of buckets. It could even understand his orders. Yet, even a toaster could do that nowadays, so Jared didn''t really feel that proud. Readying his lungs for the run of the dead, he mentally started to form the words that would likely cause his death. Chapter 340: Mortal
¡®Go!¡¯ Blasting the car door off its hinges, Jared jumped out the same second that the automation started firing. From the get-go, the man could hear the bullets hitting some kind of metal. Seeing as such things were not found on the ground, he guessed the location had been more accurate than expected. Rifles were never known for being incredibly round-efficient, and neither were they known for lasting a long time when the trigger was pressed fully down while it was on automatic. Even if the automation had let go of the trigger after two seconds, the clicks coming through the air hinted strongly at the fact that Jared had just lost his cover. Yet it also meant that he needn''t worry about being shot by his own assistance. The seven meters between him and the suspected bush was cut short within a second, and Jared lounged after the position that he thought the criminal would be. Jumping directly onto the ground the thief was supposed to lie on, toes ready to break the criminal''s spine, Jared found¡­ dirt. Wet dirt, yes, but normal dirt nonetheless. There was no human body to be seen. Because of the chance that Jared might have missed the criminal on his way down, the officer stomped his feet a few other places in the bush. Again, nobody was found nor crushed. That was not something he had hoped for. That meant that a very angry criminal was close, had a weapon, and with the exact location neither seen nor heard. ¡®Behind-¡¯ the automation sent. Jared was sure the construct sent more, yet he was distracted by his body moving faster than his mind, jumping forward a few meters. There was the sensation of a bullet grazing his back. It twisted off its original trajectory due to the armour he wore under his uniform, yet Jared knew it would have penetrated easily if not for his movement. Though, it did reveal the criminal''s location, so he supposed it was an easy trade-off. With his pistol in hand, the man twisted his body to the side, letting his feet catch off the dirt and making himself lose his height. It didn''t matter, as long as he got the criminal within his sight. And¡­ he most certainly was, able to see whatever the hell the thief was supposed to be looking like. The sound of bullets hitting metal hadn''t been a joke, and Jared could clearly see why. The criminal was wearing it across his entire body, nothing left shown but the few gaps where he needed to be able to move his shoulders, legs and whatnot. There were no obvious weaknesses to it, but that didn''t stop Jared from trying to find some nonetheless. Three shots were made to the right eye of the criminal, all three hitting the small slit that allowed the thief to see. It didn''t penetrate and hit the skull, sadly enough, but it made it possible for Jared to get up again and charge. Since the thieves rifle was lowered, his chance was clear. Tackle the criminal, use his strength to rip off the armour, and arrest or kill them. Easy. That¡¯s how Jared saw it mentally, the man having formulated the plan in the span of a single second. With how slow the movements were on the criminal, he thought it would be easy. That was until a swing of the arm suddenly picked up much more speed than what the other parts of the body would suggest. It hit Jared in his shoulder, just as the officer had been ready to tackle the criminal. With the blow coming so suddenly, there was no time to brace for impact at all. Jared fell to the ground, not by choice but by force. In those first instances spent on the ground again, head by the criminal''s feet, Jared was able to observe a small knife close to his eyes. The instrument was tied to the thieves ankle, sure meant as a last defence. How utterly interesting that nearly all the cultists had been in possession of such a thing. Maybe it had been a cultural agreement between them? A long breath being exhaled was heard from up top. Jared tried to turn his eyes up to the source, yet those pupils of his didn''t want to obey him fully. His body was hurting, the adrenaline being used to settle everything down again. One would have thought that the pain would have brought him back to full, yet it only seemed to bring his body down to new levels of tiredness. He was well and truly screwed. The cocking of a revolver was not the sound he wanted to hear. Extremely not so when there was only one suspect who could have done it, that being the one who was fully fine with putting it into Jared¡¯s head. Somehow, there was enough power to try and get off the ground, his arms trying to push his body upwards. That was met with a hard kick to the stomach. Didn''t help that the boot crushed into his body was made of metal with sharp edges. At least it allowed him to look up at the thief. No face could be seen. It was all hidden under that metal mask. It hid everything from Jared. A shame, really. He would have liked to look them in the eyes, just to show some last-minute act of defiance. Instead, he had to lie on the ground, doing his best not to realise just how scared he actually was of what was to come next. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Another attempt was made to get up, but a swift kick stopped him once again. That one hurt more than the first as if the criminal was doing his all. What kind of honour was that, kicking a man already down? Then again, Jared was being kicked by scum so he supposed he shouldn''t have been surprised. Pride mattered little like this. His body wasn''t responding much anymore. He could prop up his upper body anymore. He could hardly even keep his eyes open. Not that he failed with the latter. He refused to look away from what was going to happen next. He needed to know the exact moment it would happen. And it would happen, the gun being used was already loaded. It was brought over to face his head. Jared thought up trying to get up again but thought better of it. There was no way it would work. It would just be another kick to his stomach. Or maybe the thief wouldn''t even do that. It didn''t matter. The trigger was pushed down. Forgoing his pride, Jared did close his eyes at the last second. Fears had more power over him in those last moments. ¡­ Moments that didn''t seem to stop. The shot was ringing in his ears, yet he felt as alive as ever, albeit with hearing being lessened somewhat. Opening his eyes, he saw the automation in front of him. Or at least some of it. Blue blood was leaking to the ground, most of it coming from the construct head. The thing had no scalmp anymore, the front of it having been blown up. Yet that didn''t stop it in the slightest. It held the barrel of the revolver in its hands, stopping it from being aimed towards Jared. Yet it was instead aimed at the construct. The man couldn''t truly comprehend what he saw, until the moment where the thief fired his second shot. And the third, fourth, and fifth. All the shots hit the construct in the head, the automation losing more and more of it as time passed on. The top of the head was fully gone by that point, everything having been blown out. It was splattered on the bushes and ground behind it. The hands around the revolver slackened. The sight was like God had spit on the world. Jared¡¯s pulse was fired up. Grabbing the knife on the criminal''s leg, the strength that he didn''t know he still had left was returned to his will, and the thief was tackled. The revolver was taken ahold of and thrown away. The criminal tried to hit him again, but Jared was ready for it and deflected it. Raising the knife high, he jammed it into the throat of the thief, there being a small opening at the bottom of the neck. He twisted, turned and jammed it up and down as much as he could, doing his best to get as much out as possible. He must have hit the artery right because the blood being splattered once he removed the knife was more than he had seen for a long time. The thief was dead from blood loss before ten seconds had passed, as the movements grew still. The criminal was dead. And seeing as Jared hadn''t been shot in the head in the moments after that, the office guessed that that was the last of them. Letting go of the knife, Jared let himself fall to the ground once again, his body not really wanting to do anything but pass out. Not that he let it do that. If he fell unconscious, the winter cold would bring him over the bridge before he could even blink. He needed to get up. Jared¡¯s stomach was screaming in pain with every breath he took, yet he continued on. Sitting up, he tried to get into contact with the station¡­ which turned into one big failure. He needed to find that jammer. He needed to report this in. Getting up with the help of a tree for support, Jared accomplished the feat of getting up on his feet. He felt his body being as unsteady as ever as if a large breath would be enough to make him clatter to the ground without a word. Maybe that was why his body was refusing to take on, a sharp being felt every time his lungs tried to fill with the slightest bit of air. Or he had broken a rib. It was either of the two. After a minute of painful searching around, he finally did find the jammer. With the help of knowing how short a distance the portable ones were, he found it in a bush close to the car. It was a small, annoying thing, only visible due to a small lamp on the side which hadn''t been covered well enough. Jared thanked the gods for that, as he raised his left foot and utterly crushed the thing beneath his sole. He said he had been able to do just that a few minutes earlier to somebody''s skull. They deserved it after¡­ ¡­ Oh, yeah. Staggering back to the place where the criminal lay motionless on the ground, Jared¡¯s tired eyes finally made out the fact that there was a similar corpse of an automaton beside it. Blue blood was still leaking out of its head, the body of the construct lying motionless in the meanwhile. Alive or not, capable of thought or not, capable of choice or not, it had decided to save his life through using its own. Jared¡¯s would-be partner had pointer a revolver at its own head in favour of it being pointed at his. He didn''t care if that didn''t mean anything to it. It meant something to him. Getting down on his ass, he propped the head of the automation upon his thigh. The eyes on the constructs were without movement. They just looked up at the big sky. "You were good until the very end," Jared muttered to the dead scrap, even if nobody would hear him. "You might not have deserved the place until the end, but I don''t feel like complaining anymore. Good on you for that." His lungs were tired after only those few words. Jared would have fallen to the ground himself, if not for a tree catching him halfway down. Propping himself up against the bark, he looked down at the construct again. Its eyes were still open. With a careful touch, he closed them. They didn''t need to be open anymore. They had- ¡®I highly discourage physically interacting with sensory organs. Further damage risks complete replacements to be made,¡¯ a certain automation sent him. An automation that was meant to be dead. ¡­ ¡®Why are you still talking exactly?¡¯ Jared had to ask. ¡®To warn you against directly interacting with-¡¯ the automation was about to answer, yet Jared stopped it halfway, knowing that the answer wasn''t what he was looking for. ¡®The top half of your head is missing. How exactly are you still talking?¡¯ ¡®I am not talking. I am using the police channels to communicate instead, due to the extreme damage done to my head,¡¯ the automation answered. ¡­ Right. Not alive meant it could survive fatal injuries. Jared should have guessed that. ¡®Did you hear anything I said to your body verbally at the last minute?¡¯ ¡®No, I have not. If needed, I can look through your records and listen to them-¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s not needed,¡¯ Jared was quick to cut in. ¡®Would there be any extreme dangers from me moving your body up to the car?¡¯ ¡®There would be none. All vital features are not located in my head and therefore are not in danger of further damage. The worst estimate would be replacements to the sensory organs.¡¯ Jared took a deep breath, as he started carrying the heavy piece of junk over to the car. His cheeks were a bit red. Contacting the station, he spent the next few minutes making a report to his boss. That helped calm the nerves somewhat. Chapter 341: Princess
Even if it would kill her in the end, there was close to no regret towards those noodles. Cassandra could feel her cholesterol growing by the second, yet she just couldn''t care less. Her mind was free, and she would be damned if her body didn''t get the same treatment. Sure, it was the fifth cup that had been consumed in that week alone, yet she felt that it was well-deserved. That half of those hadn''t been eaten by her? Well¡­ there were a few rude thoughts in her head about that. But, the woman likewise couldn''t get herself to really hate the automation for that. Jules had finally learned to appreciate it more at least, not consuming it all in one go. The construct even used a fork like a decent thing. Sampling the broth, Cassandra found it to her liking. Not that she hadn''t tasted that same thing before. No, it had been the same taste with every cup, none of the experiences shooting itself out to the side too much. If anything, she was pretty sure it would have been a manufacturing mistake if that had been possible. Not that the similar taste really mattered to her anyway. Even if she tried it a thousand times, she knew that she would still like it. Sure, it might not have reached the same love after a million, but there was no way Cassandra would ever truly grow bored of that mild burn down her throat. It was just way too good. What truly made the experience different was the things that surrounded her. The location was everything to the woman¡¯s memory. Where did she sit, who did she sit with, and why was she eating it? Maybe it was those mnemonic-related questions that made her remember the first time she tried this delicacy to begin with. It had been during her years at the academy when everything had been centred around being the best there could be. Cassandra remembered the rigorous training she did to always be in peak physical form. The weights lifted, the kilometres run¡­ it still made her skin shiver, all those hours of working out not having aged well. She truly had been seeking the diamonds since the start. But, everybody needed a break at those points, and Cassandra had been no exception. The woman had been mindful of her own mental limits, even back then. Burnt-out was something that needed to be constantly considered, lest it would sneak up on one when it was too late. And¡­ Cassandra had been nice to herself back then, allowing herself a full ten minutes of sit downtime. During those ten minutes, she would do nothing related to anything. No thoughts would be had, no stretching would be done, and no networking would be performed. The woman would be an empty shell during that time. ¡­ Thinking back on it, Cassandra partly understood how she was stressed so constantly. Ten minutes of doing nothing? It might have lessened the pressure, but it certainly didn''t do anything to get herself rid of it. And the consequences of that slowly showed themselves during her time there. Even if only a gram was added on each shoulder each day, it only took three years for that to turn into a kilo. It was the recipe for a disaster, and the slow pace of it all had made Cassandra unaware of it. The stress that had been attempted to be rid of had bitten her from behind without her even realising it. A day in ¡®forced relaxation.¡¯ That''s the offer she had gotten if she didn''t want to be kicked out due to health concerns. Cassandra had accepted it, not knowing how painful a choice it had been. How did one become forced to relax? Well, it was done by making it so there were no other opportunities. Easy beds to sleep on, a great stay in a massage place, and a godly dinner had done nothing to impress her those years back. The woman was still unsure about how that was done, how she had grown so devoid of human emotions that she had seen no point in luxury. She would likely never truly know. But, maybe that indifference to wealthy items made her so susceptible to the cheap garbage that she enjoyed so much. The taste was nothing compared to what she had gotten before. The texture was duller than what prisoners got. And the look of it was terrible, to the point where it should have stopped any hunger to be formed in the mind. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Yet she had been sold from the first bite. It had been given to her out of spite, during a winter afternoon. Cassandra had gotten it heated inside the building, before going out into an outdoor seating place and eating it for herself. The snow had been falling every few seconds, yet the moon had still been clear to see at that point. It was likely one of the most beautiful sights the woman could remember off the top of her head. Jules'' loud smacking lips made her want to get back to that scene in her mind, to experience the serenity felt during that first time with the cheap food. Yet¡­ that desire did rinse out of her soul quickly enough. There were good times back then, and Cassandra didn''t know what she wouldn''t give to try those times out again and again. But, there was also much negativity, so many setbacks during those years that had been more than mentally gruelling. The troubles of her work had been harsh back then, to the point where it was a miracle of mental endurance that the woman had been able to get through it. If she had to do it all again, Cassandra wondered if she could get through the trials with the same clarity. It was well and clearly a direct no to that, but the woman still wondered about it for a moment. The pain in her body and mind had been torture. Compared to what she had now¡­ Her choice was clear on that front. Sitting in her chair in her room, Jules had taken a seat on the floor. It seemed to have become the construct¡¯s normal seating place, no matter how much the woman had encouraged it to take a seat on the bed instead. At least that could be cleaned properly, the stains from the broth not wanting to leave the hard-wood floor. Whatever had been said about those being easily cleaned were clearly filthy lies. Even expensive fabrics were easier to clean than that. Not that she wanted to clean anything, to begin with anyway. "Eat in a more respectable way, or I will jam a fork into your nose," Cassandra threatened, using whatever object close by as the source for her creativity. She had seen pictures of knives being stuck through the nasal canal, yet she had never heard of a fork being sent through in the same way. Maybe she could be the first in the world to do so? A humorous thought to be sure. "You have a lot of requirements for me nowadays," Jules commented. Yet even if the automation sounded like it was bothered by the request, it did indeed stop moving around so much, stopping any spillage from hitting the floor. That ticked one of the boxes on Cassandra''s wishlist. Though she wondered how the others would be fulfilled. It wasn''t like a line of old men would be having simultaneous heart attacks any time soon. That was something fun she had noted. The average age of anybody higher up in the police force was over sixty. Just why those over sixty needed to even work stressful jobs, Cassandra couldn''t really tell. It wasn''t healthy for them. But then again, some people just couldn''t let go of their need to work, and especially so when their jobs came with certain privileges. "I don''t believe I actually asked much of you," Cassandra answered coyly, swirling around her snack of the day. She was close to having emptied it entirely, so she made sure to savour the last bits. "With how little you listen, It doesn''t make sense to do anything of the sort on my part." "Well, I just can''t help it and you know it!" Jules exclaimed, the automation tried to throw its arms wide into the air, but stopped the motion halfway due to one of the hands holding a cup that could very easily spill very large amounts of liquid onto the woman¡¯s newly cleaned floor. Cassandra''s eye-twitching made sure to get that message outright. If the construct had been able to gulp, the woman was sure it would have done it. "... Listen. This smart chest of mine can''t help but give me the greatest-" "I am going to stop you right there," Cassandra said, holding one hand up as a clear sign of the construct needing to shut up immediately. "¡®This smart chest of mine?¡¯ Just what is that supposed to mean?" "What else am I supposed to say? You humans having that fleshy brain of yours in your head is so utterly impractical. One slap to it would utterly stop you from doing anything smart," Jules instantly began, the rant clearly ready to become something that would be written in the record books. "Automations are built with no such flaw! We have it all in our chest, right where your hearts beat. Everything that matters is right there, safely protected under layers of layers of protection. We can take as many hits to the head as we like!" "... That didn''t answer my question," Cassandra pointed out. "I changed around a common metaphor to more accurately portray my own biology," Jules reiterated methodically. "Did that work for you, princess?" "Never call me princess again, and¡­" Cassandra was ready to say something, yet her voice quit working when she got a ping from Jared. His vitals had been missing for a few minutes, apparently, and when they finally came back, they were¡­ "I have to get ready to treat some wounds. You need to get back to your charging station." "Should have guessed," Jules sent, sighing before bottoming the noodles in one big swig. Cassandra would have given the construct a dead stare for that, if she hadn''t been the one to order it, to begin with. "I¡¯ll see ya tomorrow." Cassandra barely gave the construct more than a nod, the woman getting on her uniform again. Her time spent relaxing had been cut short, and she needed to be ready to receive a¡­ wait. An incoming message from Jared once again changed her mind about how events were proceeding. "Jules! Get back here this instant!" Chapter 342: Drowsy
Things just had to happen at the current hour. Of course, it just had to. If not for that, Cassandra would have been able to relax for an hour or two more before finally checking if her mind had adapted to the leisurely life enough to where she could sleep. Her eyes had actually been getting close to drowsy! Not anymore, of course. Not even close to where she even had a chance of holding her eyes closed for over ten seconds. There was too much to do, to many things to be stressed about, and too many damn medical bags that needed to be brought out. How long until they got there? Two minutes and thirty seconds, according to what the map said. But the map was wrong and Cassandra knew it, that stupid thing always assuming that the officers would only drive the exact speed limit. The woman didn''t doubt that the man was trying to increase that by more than a few kilometres, at the bare minimum. Most of the gear had been brought outside to the front, with a wheelchair sat up for immediate movement into the station. Cassandra knew that they had to get them to one of the medical beds within a few minutes of their arrival, and for that, they needed to be as versatile as possible. It didn''t help that Jared believed he had a broken rib or two. The man had been continually updating them on his pain levels, reporting them about his extreme breathing difficulties. Jared had actually stated that he would have let the automation drive, if not for the thing being unable to do much at the current time. That had certainly been a surprise to everybody on the channel, even if nobody had commented on it. The silence spoke a thousand truths, one could say, and the fact that Grunwald had not immediately continued asking for reports told a whole tale in itself. The chair was sat up, sedatives prepared for immediate injection, and the¡­ construct sent out to gather materials for the damaged automation coming in soon had just come along. Jules seemed positively encumbered by all the things he had gathered, though that might have been due to the size of it alone. Just how many pieces of gear was needed for hands-on medical stasis? It wasn''t like they would be undergoing an operation in the parking lot. "Got everything you need?" Cassandra questioned, as she gave herself a few seconds of breathing time. Her pulse was getting her, so she needed to get it as low as possible. There was no space for rash decisions in the current state, and twitchy hands could be the reason that a lung was punctured. "That and more, I hope," Jules answered. The construct carefully lowered his arms full of gear down to the ground, methodically disassembling the tower that had been put up. The woman temporarily considered helping, but just figured that the machine knew better than her when it came to systems it had created. "I have just about everything I could possibly need here." "Are you even going to need half of it?" Cassandra said, picking up one of the man pieces there were. The one she held looked like a peculiar razer of sorts, the blades able to move around at certain intervals. There were no buttons on it, so she assumed it had to be remotely controlled somehow. Not that she ever figured it out, since the automation took it right out of her hands and put it back onto the ground where she had found it. Exactly the same placement, actually. Maybe another system that the woman hadn''t noticed. It wouldn''t have been her first. "I hope not. But¡­ I am going to need some of it," Jules said, finally done with all the preparations, and able to look at her with full attention on its face. "And since the other one has an extremely broken diagnostic system, there isn''t really any telling what''s wrong with it. I have to do a scan using my own tools, and then figure out the problems from there." That didn''t sound good. Whatever had broken the other construct, to the point where it couldn''t even tell what was wrong anymore, had to have been something of a hard hit. Just what had happened out there? From the vitals shown by Jared, it had been decided that questioning was delayed until he was in a more stable condition. They only knew that there weren''t more of them and that he needed medical assistance. Nothing more. Nothing less. But they would definitely know more soon, Cassandra was able to see the car moving into the parking lot. It had been obscured by the building around it, yet was now plain to see, out in the- One of the windows was broken. Holes littered the size of it, hinting strongly at the fact that it hadn''t been bashed in. Not like any normal human could do such a thing. Those windows were meant to be bullet-proof, to the point where it should have been near-impossible to break easily. Yet¡­ Cassandra must have been wrong, else just how had it been broken? The car doors had bullet holes on them. Not to the point where she could see through them, but they had been very clear shot at. Seeing as Jared had been out helping clean out the cultist base, Cassandra could only really see one option on how that might have happened. And she didn''t like that assessment one bit, to the point where her fists clenched around the handles on the wheelchair. She actually felt the metal bend the slightest bit because of it. Maybe that was what allowed her to relax. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. "Get ready to help your friend," Cassandra ordered, as she moved the wheelchair over to the side with Jared. Jules did mutter something back, but she didn''t pay much attention to it. The car was coming close to a stop, within a few meters from her. Those precious seconds were spent getting around to where Jared promptly stepped out, the man not even bothering to shut off the engine. "I look like shit, I know," Jared said, hands up, one of them pushing out the car door even more. The three steps he had to take to get to the wheelchair seemed extremely painful. The small spasm in the core was more than enough for Cassandra to take it just that more seriously. "No need to remind me of it." "I thought that your assessment didn''t need to be said at all, actually," Cass stated, doing her best to sound calm. There was no need to sound agitated after all. "Sit still for a moment. I believe you have deserved yourself some morphine." She took off the cap of the needle, as she manoeuvred the small syringe into the man¡¯s shoulder. There was a slight wince even before the needle pricked the skin. Cassandra didn''t truly believe the man was afraid of needles, leading to the suspicion that the injuries sustained were more than just a cracked rib or two. His right shoulder had been looking bigger than the other, now that she thought about it. With morphine granted to the pained man, Cassandra began to move him inside. For that, there was a need to go around all the gear laid out on the ground for the automations use. And with this manoeuvring, the woman was given ample time to look at just what was going around on the robotic end. She almost wished she hadn''t, the sight not something she really needed to see. It looked like a poorly-performed suicide attempt, the upper part of the automaton''s face having been removed entirely. The fact that it was still moving around its arms and legs according to Jules'' commands just made it so much more surreal. On the ground, there were droplets of blue liquid lying around. The woman guessed it to be blood. The sight only grew so much more terrible from that. If not for preparation for such sights, she might have lost her stomach''s contents. They finally got inside the station. As luck would have it, they were forced to go through corridors upon corridors, the medical wing located on the far end of the station. It had apparently been designed with protection in mind, any attackers needing to go through everything else before they could even dream of getting to the wounded. Yet¡­ that also meant that those brought to the medical wing had to spend the longest of times simply getting there. That wasn''t a problem normally, though. There was never anything truly severe put into the police¡¯s medical wing. Anything above a broken bone was sent to the local hospital to be dealt with. Yet now that the hospital was out of business, there wasn''t really anywhere else to go for emergency medical assistance. Cassandra wasn''t sure how the designers hadn''t been able to see it coming. "That thing is more beat up than me, you know," Jared muttered. Cass tried to shush him, muttering a few words about him not needing to talk to him. Yet the man blabbered on, seemingly not understanding the serious risks he was putting out just so that he could say meaningless words. "Took bullet after bullet for me. It did more than I would ever do for it without even hesitating." "That is something to think about in silence," Cass encouraged, not wanting the man to puncture a lung from talking. She wouldn''t hear the end of it, if that happened while she was moving him, and the woman knew it would be an extremely annoying process to make Jared survive the rest of the way there Jared somehow listened to her at that. Maybe it was the morphine finally starting to take effect, or maybe it was something else. Cassandra wasn''t too sure, yet she somehow couldn''t have cared about it either way. Doors were opening up for them, and the next room over was a room they had been seeking for a long time. The medical room wasn''t the largest in the world, only able to hold eight patients at a time. Yet those eight patients had many things to keep them alive, the place geared top to bottom with things that were designed to prolong life for as long as humanly possible. It was quite the achievement to die in the place they stood in. Vitals synched up with the systems in the room, and Cassandra was urged to move the patient over to a diagnostics machine. It was more commonly known as a very advanced and very uncomfortable bed. She had only tried to lie on such things once before, yet the time on it was quite unforgettable. Her back still hurt the slightest bit when she thought about it. Nevertheless, there was no hesitating in getting Jared to feel the same pain. Urging the man up from the wheelchair, the two worked together to carefully get him down on the bed. Jared complained about not being able to breathe right when down completely, so the bed was tilted to allow him to nearly sit up. Yet that comment was enough to make her more than a little worried about what was going on inside. "Don''t worry about any internal bleeding, Cass," Jared said. "That¡¯s where the blood is supposed to be." Did she give him too much morphine? No¡­ that couldn''t have been it. She barely gave the normal dose. This was all the man¡¯s own efforts to be funny, even if it sounded as terrible as it was. The smile wasn''t even put on right, a clenched jaw not helping the look at all. The man scanned from the furthest hair on his head to his toes repeatedly. It was like a sonar, searching through the body for any inconsistencies. And¡­ Many of those flaws were indeed found. Jared himself wasn''t able to see what the machine was printing out, but Cassandra was more than able to just see it. She directly observed warnings that accompanied it. She really should have given him more painkillers. The tolerance of that man might have been high, but Cassandra knew that Jared must have been in a bad state even with the morphine. The things she was being told by the systems were not good. "I have some good news for you," Cass said, not looking at the man himself but the image showing his innards. "You are not going to die in the next few hours." "That doesn''t sound bad from my end," Jared said, before narrowing his eyes at her. "It actually sounds suspiciously good. Where¡¯s the catch?" "The bad news is that you would have been able to die from choking on your own blood if you did as much as use the brake too much on your way here," Cass informed him. "Two of your lower ribs aren''t looking that good. You¡¯re gonna have to be put under until tomorrow so that it can be put back together, and¡­ you''re going to have to wear a rib protector for a few days." There was also a part of the machine that recommended a month of not working, yet Cassandra already knew that Grunwald would ignore that part. So¡­ why even let Jared know of it, to begin with? "That¡¯s just great," Jared stated. "Do you want me to give out the report before I get to be put under or would you mind waiting until tomorrow?" Sending out a message to their shared superior, Cassandra got her answer quickly. "Grunwald is coming over in a minute. I think you¡¯ll be telling us everything now." Chapter 343: God
"Anything of note you think I should know before we go in?" Cassandra had gone outside the room to meet her boss, leaving Jared alone in the room. The woman had been hesitant about it to start with, yet the machines had finally reported his condition as semi-stable before she finally decided to leave. The man wasn''t doing good, but it was good to know that he wasn''t going to die at any point soon. "Ribs are close to breaking, so keep questions simple. If he talks for too long, he¡¯ll have to be put off duty for a minimum of four weeks," Cass informed the older man, hinting strongly at a fact that couldn''t be ignored no matter what. They couldn''t do anything that could risk the man having to be left on the sidelines, lest they would be unable to cover their area in the designated times. That would be a nightmare for anybody. Her superior officer did not seem happy about her words, but that look of resignation was as apparent as everything else on his face. It was the look of powerlessness, and it was surely something that she had hoped that she wouldn''t need to see so soon. Things hadn''t even begun to become chaotic, yet his mask was already falling? ¡­ Oh, how the tables turned so quickly. Here Cassandra was, criticizing somebody for their composure not being upheld at all times, while she had been in the same basket not a few hours ago. Even now, she could feel a small twitch of her lips, as the woman realized the irony in her own thoughts. Truly, she was depreciable in her current form. "Then we¡¯ll need to keep it short overall. No need for extreme details," Grunwald muttered before looking directly into her eyes. "Cass, I believe you are the one with more contextual information between the two of us. You will be the one leading the questions." That almost caused some surprise to show on her face. The chief was giving her responsibility again so soon? It wasn''t like Cassandra even had to think about accepting it or not, yet the chance of it even happening now of all times should have been close to null. Had something happened as of late that she knew nothing about? "Of course, sir," Cass said with a small tilt of the head. The two went in after that with their backs straight as they methodically walked over to the bedside of the man they both knew quite well. "I thought the two of you would never come," Jared said, the man unable to hide the small pain in his chest that came with the sentence. Cassandra glanced at the panel next to the bed after that twitch. Nothing of note was being damaged from the words said alone, yet the movements were putting pressure on a swollen part of Jared¡¯s chest. Continued pressure applied bore the risk of further damage. Nothing that the woman had not accessed before, yet it was good to double-check her facts in that regard. Even if it could be treated immediately, there was no desire towards fixing a blood-filled lung. Just to be sure, Cassandra decided to test out an alternative to talking verbally. ¡®Is there any chance of you being able to communicate through the police channel?¡¯ Cassandra sent directly to the man through their brain implants. It bore extremely lessened risks of putting pressure on the organs, while still making it possible to get answers in a timely manner. There was no way they would be moving to morse code, after all, even if they had all been trained for it in emergency situations. "Not a chance. Mind is muddled. Can barely understand what¡¯s being sent through," Jared answered in short bursts, with a long sentence at the end. His head was growing a bit red. The system was just putting it off as a system of an increased pulse due to the pain. That would be sorted through soon. "It checks out with the painkillers administered to him earlier," Cass told Grunwald, the officer standing a step away from the bed with his arms folded. "We will have to do this verbally no matter what." "Couldn''t we have waited with the sedatives then? Giving him time to formulate an answer before putting him on painkillers sounds like a good idea to me," Grunwald inquired. A criticism towards Cassandra¡¯s choices during the first-responding. He was really going to play that card? Fine. "His body would have likely gone into shock if it wasn''t for those meds. Are you ready to begin the questioning?" Cass asked right back. The superior officer gave her a nod of his head, giving her the full go to begin. And that''s just what she did, turning back to the man in the bed. "Jared, can you confirm that you were attacked by cultists that hadn''t been killed during the initial bombing?" Cassandra had decided to keep the questions simple to begin with, and she was keeping that goal true to her heart. Yes and no questions were easy enough to begin with after all, with how much time had been spent deducing things from the lacking information "Yes," Jared confirmed. The man tried to nod his head as well, but that turned out to be a painful endeavour. "Same gear." That he could even recognize the gear worn only confirmed Cassandra suspicions in that regard. Thinking back to how the car had looked during the time where they got back, there was a new line of questions ready based on that. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Since your wheels were not shot through, I have to guess that you were stopped through one of the traps. Is this correct?" Cassandra asked. She had witnessed first-hand the amount of traps and other things laid out on the roads leading to the camp. Though, she hadn''t seen anything capable of causing bullet holes into a car, leading to the idea that it was an ambush. "Yes. Wire under the car," Jared answered. The words were clearly causing him pain, but Cassandra needed to press on. Wire under the car? She had to guess it was one of the wires meant to stop the car since it clearly hadn''t sliced up the wheels. A useful trap so late in the day, when it was hard to see in the current weather and lighting. Something like that should have been seen when eliminating all the old traps. "Did you miss the trap during your searching, or-" Cassandra began to question, but the unhealthy man cut her off before she got to finish. Though, she just might have stopped talking either way due to that look in his eye. He clearly had some thoughts to get out. "It was put up after we had searched. They knew where we would drive. Set up the trap when we thought we were safe," Jared started. It was longer answers than what was needed but the man seemed determined to say it all. "It was not the fault of me or the scrap-bucket." "Never implied it was, but your statement on that regard has been duly noted," Cassandra stated, giving Grunwald a glance that didn''t need any information. When they were done with questioning, they needed to check for concussions. The sudden change in behaviour surrounding the automation was questionable before, yet to go through pain to alleviate any unfounded suspicions was something that had never been seen before. He was being protective around the construct. If that wasn''t enough to warrant concern, then she didn''t know what to call it. "Were all the remaining targets killed?" That was one thing they needed to know immediately. If there were any more roaming around, then it would be more than just problematic. People with nothing to lose and enough gear to cause a mass shooting were forces to be feared. Those who sought chaos were too unpredictable in most regards. "Yes. Every attacker was handled," Jared said, yet again using more words than were needed. Cassandra almost wondered if she needed to remind him of the need to not use many words. Yet she was still relieved by the words heard. It would sense for all the remaining cultists to have gathered for the ambush. That all of those who attacked were dead spoke well of the future. "Keep your answers simple, please. Are you sure that they have all been taken care of? There was nobody who ran away when you started to gain the upper hand?" Cass asked, just to make sure that there was no foul play at hand. Retreating silently was a valid strategy, after all. "I would be dead if any of them were alive. Couldn''t resist attacks at the end. Could barely walk," Jared informed them. "A simple ¡®yes¡¯ would have been enough, Jared, but I cannot blame you for giving more information," Cassandra stated, making sure that everything had been recorded and logged. "Any questions you have for us before we end this fully and let you sleep for twelve hours in a row?" "My partner," Jared immediately said, to the point where the intensity made him cough. The coughing was bad. Looking at the screen by the bed, a small warning popped up after that action. Another cough like that and they would have to bring him under immediately. "By your partner, I believe you''re referring to the automation who assisted you during the cleaning operation. Am I right in that regard? And try to answer with one word this time," Cassandra asked, making sure to add the last part as fast as possible. He really didn''t need to talk more than a word. Grunwald was starting to give her glances now. Time was to be cut short soon. "Yes," Jared said, clearly looking like he wanted more to be shown on the table. Maybe he wanted to give reasoning on why he was suddenly calling the piece of scrap his partner, or maybe he wanted to tell some joke that wasn''t close to being funny. It didn''t matter, since there was no way it would be told. Not with the look, she was giving him. But, he had given her a request while lying in a hospital bed, so it wasn''t like she was going to deny that. "I¡¯ll send a message to inquire about its health then," Cassandra stated, looking away to the ceiling so she could message a certain noodle spilling bastard. ¡®Jules,¡¯ Cassandra sent to the automation she worked with. ¡®Yeah?¡¯ The automation sent back within a second. Not that long a waiting time for a human, but certainly close to an eternity compared to the usual speeds. The thing must have been preoccupied with quite a stretch. ¡®Jared wants to know how his partner is holding up. Would you mind giving me an update?¡¯ the woman requested, hoping for a quick answer. ¡®Slow down there for a second. Jared is calling the automation I am currently fixing his partner,¡¯ Jules questioned, very clearly not answering the easy-to-answer question Cassandra had laid out. But, what else what she to expect from that bucket of worthless garbage? ¡®Yes. Would you mind giving me an update? ¡®Give Jared an update on how his partner is doing?¡¯ ¡®Yes.¡¯ ¡®Jared. The man who shouted at the automation yesterday due to the way it was sitting in a car seat?¡¯ ¡®Since cloning hasn''t progressed to the point where we can make truly identical copies, I would believe so.¡¯ ¡®... Does he have a concussion?¡¯ ¡®While the sensors are telling us otherwise, we strongly believe that this may be so,¡¯ Cassandra answered. She wrinkled her brows the slightest bit to give the two others in the room the knowledge that she was indeed communicating with the automation and not just staring into the air without reason. A good five seconds had passed at that point, after all, and it was beginning to get a little awkward. ¡®That would explain it. Can''t imagine him not wanting to slide his foot through my pelvis,¡¯ Jules sent again. ¡®Quite,¡¯ Cassandra answered. ¡®Would it be possible to get an update now?¡¯ ¡®Ah, of course! Anything for Jared¡¯s partner, who he loves so much!¡¯ Jules sent, the woman on the receiving end not missing the double meaning. She would have glared if she knew the automation would see it. ¡®According to the tools at hand, everything is working fine. There is a need for the cranial structure to be replaced, however. Will take a few hours to get fixed. I might have to help with some of it, so I will sadly not be at your side.¡¯ ¡®I am truly in tears. Give an update if anything new arises,¡¯ Cassandra sent back before cutting off the connection. Though, not before the automation sent one of those thumbs-up that they liked so much. "There is a need for parts of the head to be replaced, but there are no problems detected otherwise," Cassinformed Jared, who actually looked a bit relieved at the statement. Was there actually some attachment made here? How peculiar. Concussions were not her expertise, yet she didn''t expect them to work in such a way. "If that is all, I believe we will be ending it here." No complaints were heard, so the buttons to put Jared to sleep were pressed. Though, after the man fell asleep, Cassandra activated the protocol for possible concussions, even if the machine was calling it unneeded. The man would be waking up for a few seconds every hour, for the next twelve hours. Cassandra could easily say that she felt a little bad for him because of it. Nobody was ever truly allowed to sleep in the station anymore. "Fine work, Cass," Grunwald said, to which Cassandra gave a polite nod in response. "I believe we should step out of here now. We still have some things to discuss, after all." Chapter 344: Shredded
Just as the two had entered together, they left in the same way. Cassandra was the first to walk out, holding the door for her superior. It was a small gesture, but one she felt was necessary in the conversation that would begin in just a moment. It wasn''t like she had to think hard about what it would be. There were only so many things that could garner the officer to look at her like that. "I see that your condition has improved in the last few hours," Officer Grunwald said, starting the whole thing up with no real small-talk beforehand. Maybe the man had no time to spend talking with her for too long, or maybe the man just believed that they had no reason to waste time on the unnecessary subject. But, nevertheless, Cassandra would play the game set up for her. This was a position she needed to take, ranking stopping her from playing smug or anything close to it. She had a specific role to play here, one that she had played for as long as she had been at the station. And even if she had broken that character earlier that day, there was still the need for it to be remade. The officer needed to see her the same way as before, without the facade being broken. And the woman thought she could handle that requirement flawlessly. "It indeed has, sir. Time on less intensive tasks seems to have been the right choice in the end," Cass stated, leading back to the conversation they had had during the time she had first returned from the station. Grunwald had wanted her off the cultists and she had fought tooth and nail to be allowed back in. Now, as a showing of her progress, Cassandra said just the opposite. Yet, the man showed little reaction to this statement. "I am glad to see you share the same opinion in that regard," Grunwald stated, not showing off that apparent happiness of his. He had grown into stone, talking professionally and nothing more. That was understandable. Emotion from one side would just leave the other side mirroring it, and Cassandra was during her best to do just that. She would show exactly as much as him and nothing more. "Has the conversation with the automation worked as intended? I was unsure if the positions set out for you would work, seeing as you have worked with the construct before." Setting Jules in a therapeutic position was extremely stupid, and Cassandra knew just how wrong it could have gone. If she hadn''t reacted positively to it to start with, there was a good chance that it would have done nothing but infuriate her even more. Not that she stated this, instead simply nodding along as if all was well in the world. The asses did indeed shit sunshine. "It worked flawlessly, sir. There were complications to begin with, I must admit, but the events further on helped put me back in the right spot," Cass stated, letting the man know of some minor flaw of hers. Seeing weakness in others was always good to make people feel more relaxed. It was a weird quirk of the human might, but damn was it a good manipulation tool. Making others feel at ease around oneself was the first real step to making sure nothing negative came in one¡¯s way. "By the events after, am I to guess that you mean the further classification of your files?" What a blatant way to say that he breached Cassandra¡¯s privacy. Sure, due to his position, it was fully allowed to do such a thing. There was nothing stopping the man, be that law or protocol, from snooping around in her file as much as he wanted. But, he wasn''t supposed to do that, due to the issues with trust it would cause. And the fact that he stated it so blatantly made Cassandra wonder just what kind of company that had been run during the time she wasn''t there. "The automation notified me about the feeling of me being without control being one of the causes for my¡­ mental inconsistency. The construct promoted the action as something that would help me get back on my feet," Cass answered. There was no real way that they were ever going to be told that the actual cause of it was that she had said some very controversial things. The work required to gain access just wasn''t worth it. "Is there a problem with this cause of action?" "Oh, of course not!" Grunwald quickly informed her, hands up to showcase openness. The man was clearly having a problem with the fact, yet social constraints were clearly not on his side. The officer couldn''t easily force her into showing him the details of her time with a therapist without making it seem like a good reason to go to the press about it. "The rules are in place for a reason, and the mental health of my people needs to be assured. If this is what¡¯s required to keep you in the position that you are currently in, I see no reason to be dismayed by it." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. That was good to hear. A proper speech from somebody backed into a corner. It had become less about Cassandra being alright and more about the officer above her doing his tasks as a leader. It was always a good way to divert attention. "That is good to hear. I do agree with your ideas about needing to keep us working. With the state of Jared, I believe we will need every helping hand that we can get our hands-on," Cassandra said, once again throwing a rope to another topic. It was one she needed more knowledge on, more discussion to be made about. "Indeed," Grunwald said, that tone of his growing back to a more tactical one. Cassandra hadn''t been the only one deliberating what Jared¡¯s word had meant. "The potential damage that would have come from your peers not surviving the fight would have been catastrophic. While you got him to the medical centre, I searched through the car for an assessment. The man had been transporting all the guys back with him during his last run. If Jared had not performed perfectly, there is a good chance that a new force would have been rallied against us. The chance of surviving that onslaught would have been extremely low for us." Cassandra thought about firing back with the idea of getting more personnel over to them, yet she already knew what the man would say. It was apparently an impossible idea to get through, everybody else also asking for reinforcements. There weren''t enough to handle anything anywhere, so there was little chance of one city being allowed ten more officers on their side. "I had not known previously that he was capable of such things," Cassandra said, thinking back to the car. An ambush was a hard thing to get through without losses. The fact that the man had been able to do it alone was something of an achievement. The pain tolerance, the nonchalant mood about being so close with death¡­ just what had that man gotten through before? "This is not the worst we¡¯ve seen out here, but you are right in how incredible it was to do," Grunwald stated. "Jared is one of the better ones I¡¯ve had over the years, and his skill is the only reason he¡¯s still with us. But, you would expect that from the one who always went first during the yearly searching through the forest. It isn''t his first time fighting between the trees if you can believe it." The woman could, in fact, believe it. She had read about the forest and what it held. It wasn''t surprising that they had been both trained and experienced fights in that terrain. She had personally not been a part of that regiment, her training having mostly focused on more urban and modern areas. She fitted best into the places that held no grass or trees. Concrete was her friend, one could say. Not like what the small city here had. The buildings were small, no real cover anywhere, and the treeline was a place she had never fully been equipped to handle. There wasn''t any training in store for her around it, and the manuals she had prepared taught little about what there really was in store for her. Each forest was unique, after all, and she needed to adapt as well. "Do you think there will be more fighting in the forest this time around?" Cass asked, wanting the man¡¯s opinion on the subject. "I don''t believe so. Groups the size we¡¯ve seen are a once-a-decade occurrence. And when they arrive, they mostly dominate the entire place," Grunwald answered after a few seconds of seeming deep in thought. "If there are other parties out there, I don''t believe they will lay a finger on the city, or barely even get close to it" "I thought you might say that," Cass stated, her mind wandering for a second, thinking back to what she had seen before they finally arrived at the clearing at the beginning of the day. "¡­is there anything that caused this chain of thoughts to appear?" "There is, actually," Cass answered, her mind settled on the subject she had at heart. "Since I haven''t written a report yet, and with all the time we¡¯ve spent on other tasks, I haven''t been able to give a full description of the various locations I came across during the initial search." Grunwald¡¯s interest was clearly piqued, the man raising his eyebrows a bit and nodding to show that he wanted to know more this instant. The woman was glad to oblige. "During the way over to the clearing, a house was found on the way. It was one of the unregistered ones, likely built by an amateur with the tools at hand. It was half-collapsed when we found it, if that sets the picture of it perfectly," Cass began. "The inside had clearly been used and left suddenly within the last week or month. There were various pieces of electronics that were clearly valuable and very restricted. From the search online during the identification of the objects, some were estimated to be worth over fifty thousand dollars apiece. I realise that I should have notified you of this hours earlier than this, and I apologize for it." Her superior opened his mouth, looking like wanted to say something, but closed it again not long after. It opened up again¡­ and closed again. The man seemed at a loss for words. Cassandra tilted her eyes down on the floor for the next seconds, waiting in apparent shame while the officer could get his head together. That was expected of him, after all. "I¡­ don''t think it''s as big a problem as you think. Some of your choices in the last hours have been muddled due to the extreme events you saw with your own eyes. Therefore, you shouldn''t be blamed for things that you missed during that time," Grunwald said with a sigh. "If you could send the location over to me, I¡¯ll have it noted down in official reports and you or Jared can take a look at it tomorrow." "Of course, sir. Thank you for the help," Cass said, giving a nod of respect to the man. "Think nothing of it," Grunwald assured her. "However¡­ If there are any other occurrences like this, which have happened as of late, I would appreciate it if I''m told now." Cassandra didn''t have to think long for another event to come up in her mind. It had been the one which she feared most, not because of the repercussions that would come from having excluded it for so long, but due to the image of it still being in her head. The woman showed her superior officer the scan of the beast that had been found. The human skull on the non-human body was something that still taunted her eyes. Chapter 345: Mess
Cassandra was positively ordered to leave his sight when she finished reporting about the found corpse. An unbelievable act, when the officer had spoken so much about holding together only moments before. The woman was shocked at the lack of decency on the man¡¯s part, the lack of composure on the officer¡¯s face had been something of obvious expression. Not that she had anything to worry about now. The corpse had been plaguing the back of the woman¡¯s head for a few hours now, Cassandra not too sure what exactly she needed to do about it. From a single side of the experience, it was just a screwed up piece of biological experimentation. Sure, it wasn''t that common to see a human skull fused to an animal, yet it wasn''t as if it happened before. Humanity was apt on sticking pieces together from different species, including those that shouldn''t exactly have fit. Humans and cats, seals and lions, and what other crazy stuff one could think of had already been tried in full. But¡­ there was rarely anything but those fusings of flesh that were notable with the corpses. Yet the one that Cassandra had found in the forest was anything but just that, having excluded the chemical composition that had caused her so much anxiety. That extrusion alone was enough to call in specialists. The fact that it was stuck to a creature''s flesh made it all the worse. It was a weaponization. In a way, it did make sense that Grunwald had been so hasty about getting her out of sight. The man likely needed to report it as early as possible, the hours where it had been delayed likely the difference between life and death. At least, that¡¯s how Cassandra guessed the man had seen it. There really wasn''t any other excuse for that haunted expression she had seen. With the fact that she had been thrown away so quickly, the woman was unsure of what to really do. There were thoughts about going back to her room and trying to sleep, yet¡­ she already knew that would be impossible for the next hour at the minimum. Her mind had been activated again, and it wasn''t close to willing to rest again. So¡­ what to do? She had no reason to restart her duties, and it wasn''t like there had been any emergency calls into the station in the last hour. The city was somehow at peace, no matter how much chaos Cassandra felt it should have been in. She could go to the room and write the reports of the day, yet that idea was scrapped almost immediately. The important details had already been relayed, so the reason for having it out on the same day was just about muted. Cassandra had no real reason to be motivated about the subject. Which left her with only one real thing to do. It was a technique she had learned from her short experience with working in an office. Cassandra would make her problem somebody else¡¯s problem. And since Grunwald was out doing important reports and Jared was out sleeping for the next twelve hours, there was only one real candidate for the position. Unfortunately, Cassandra had more trouble than she wanted, when it came to finding this candidate. During her initially showing off the station, Jared had shown her all the rooms that the man had personally thought she would ever have a use for. These were things like meeting rooms, the kitchen, all the restrooms in the entire station, and where emergency janitorial supplies were being kept. Things like that. Things designed for human interaction. Yet there were things out of that realm, locations in the building that hadn''t been designed with human interaction in mind. Jared had most likely known exactly where these were, yet had never thought that Cassandra would need the same information. That man was wrong, and the woman was suffering because of those choices. Just where was Jules hiding? Oh, she knew exactly where the scrap-bucket was hiding. It was in the room in the cellar that had been designed for the charging and repairing of any automations that came to the station. Cassandra knew that much. However, just how was one supposed to get to this lower floor of the building? Cassandra had never actually been on more than the first and second floors. Her mental map of the place was limited to those two floors, having never seen a single staircase leading downstairs. It was as if the station had done everything it could to make sure it was as hard as possible to get down there. The map of the building was little help. She wanted to know where the stairs were, and the design obliged her every word. It was just never down. How many stair-cases had she been around in the last ten minutes? Cassandra didn''t bother remembering, her only memory surrounding it being the ancient curses she was splattering onto the ground. It was words she had learned earlier in her life, whenever one of the older folks would stub their toes. She didn''t really know why, yet those cutting sentences always stuck with her. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. They just showed frustration so well. The pain could be felt with every word, and it showed off exactly what Cassandra felt was worthy of the situation. Just why had anybody done this to her? Why had anybody thought it was such a good idea to hide a basement of all things? The medical room was understandable. Keep the wounded safely for as long as possible. An understandable and honourable goal? Keeping the basement safe, however? That was just pure evil. There was no reason to do it. Cassandra stopped her relentless search, taking a few deep breaths. She was getting angry again. Her pulse was starting to rise into the hundred and twenties purely due to her frustrations. She needed to be mindful of it all. ¡­ Okay, searching blindly was clearly not working. So when left with this fact pressed down on her, the woman felt that there was only one real method to use after it. Sending Jules a message, Cassandra requested instructions on how to enter the basement. The automation was luckily not in the mood to play it all up this time, simply sending her a carefully drawn map of how to get there. Sure, it was drawn with the idea of her starting from her room, but she could still use it well enough. The locations in it were easily recognizable, after all. The lack of real staircases down seemed extra stupid when the woman finally realised where the only actual way down was when looking away from the back entrance on the outside of the station. When going down from the inside, one would need to go over to the main entrance of the station itself. In the room, a few meters next to it was the staircase, hidden in a corner that nobody ever bothered looking at. There weren''t even any cameras pointed that way. That was how little care there was about it. But, Cassandra was one of the few who did care, to the point where she walked down the poorly cleaned stairs. Dirt could be seen on each step as if the cleaning bots had never been told to sweep the part of the station that didn''t contain humans regularly. If that was so, Cassandra was sure to send in a complaint about it, due to the health risk associated with such juvenile behaviour. ¡®What couldn''t be noticed couldn''t be noticed about?¡¯ That was one of the biggest lies she had heard for a long time, and it was as untrue now as the first time it had reached her ears. When she reached the end of the stairs and the beginning of the lower floor, Cassandra did in a way understand why nobody wanted to be down there. Everything was made of moulded concrete, sharp edges at every corner of the hallway, with the older lamps on the top flickering every few seconds. It was clearly not something that any human would be close to. Even the temperature was terrible. Honestly, just how was it possible to drop ten degrees from going down a single staircase? The heat insulation must have been more than a little advanced. Or it was the concrete holding it all in. The woman wouldn''t be too surprised if that was it, with so much of it. There was enough space in the hallway for an entire bus to drive comfortably inside. Just what was it designed to hold? Cassandra knew it wasn''t vehicles, since the garage for them was purely outside. Yet¡­ what else could it have been? With the place being so big, Cassandra just started walking down the hallway. There was a corner about twenty meters down, allowing the woman the chance of actually getting somewhere. With so much space, there had to be more than empty- There was more than empty space. There was so much more than empty space. The floor turned slanted, allowing four or five more meters up to the ceiling. Cassandra wasn''t sure yet honestly didn''t pay too much attention to it. Her eyes were glued to what the wall to the left showed. The turn at the end of the hallway showed a new room, large and without any obvious end. Or, maybe it had walls at some point, Cassandra just unable to see them due to a large number of bodies in the way. There was a point where the woman thought she had seen Jules, yet as more and more faces that seemed similar to the construct she knew appeared, Cassandra fully understood how large a mistake had been made on her part. Hanging from the walls, an army of automations were situated systematically in a bunch. They were stacked neatly, with three full levels of them. Each had their eyes closed, looking down from their hanging placement. They looked like blue corpses, ready for harvesting. It looked like something out of a nightmare. There had to be over a hundred¡­ no, there definitely was over a hundred, nearing the point where Cassandra wouldn''t doubt there being double whatever she estimated. Just how was this possible? She had only ever seen two in the same room before. Just¡­. Why were there so many? How was it possible for there to be so many of them? Stacked against what Cassandra hoped to be the wall, the woman walked over to one of them. It looked even more dead up close, having no movement at all. It could have been looked at as a weirdly uninformed art sculpture of some kind. The automations weren''t wearing police uniforms, after all, but a white piece of fabric that hid all the bits that people would question too much about. Cassandra was happy about that being there, not wanting to see a whole wall of examples of why designers didn¡¯t need so much detail on their creations. From her side, past the wall of automations, Cassandra could hear the banging of some kind. There was the bending of metal, the clattering of something hitting the floor, and the sound of somebody muttering swears. The woman initially thought that somebody else had gone down there, somebody who wasn''t related to the force. Yet, as her reaction to grabbing her tranquillizer died down, she began to slowly realise who that might have been. The woman initially tried to go beside the wall of automations, yet found that there was no clear path over to the other side. No openings in the wall beside the constructs either. Another would have perhaps tried to find another way inside, something clearly designed for that specific use. Cassandra didn''t want to bother with that, however. With a starting push, the officer who had too much pride began to push herself between the unactivated constructs. The thickness of the wall was about six automations deep. Not a lot from an outside perspective, but more than challenging from anywhere else. The bodies sat tightly together, yet were similarly more than a little hard to push. They weighed as much as double Cassandra¡¯s own weight each, making it more than a little hard to push two of them to each side every time she wanted to move a single step forward. Somehow, however, she did actually succeed. It was a silent fight, yet it was similar to a silent win. Nothing really happened when she got to the other side, except for the woman feeling like her back needed to be popped back into place. But that was likely just a joke from her physical side, so the woman paid it no real mind. Yet, what she finally saw when looking around did remind her of something. A real, god-awful mess, with a crazy maniac sitting right in the middle of it all. Chapter 346: Interesting
Just what was all this clutter even supposed to be? From what Cassandra could remember, machines were meant to be orderly. This¡­ this was anything but that. She could barely move through all the pieces of scrap and electronics lying haphazardly on the floor. Even if she didn''t step on anything directly, her boots still hit a few of the items, making it all clutter around. While that might not have been enough to make the loudest of bangs, the automation that sat in the middle of it all surely still jumped up to face her. From the expression alone, it wasn''t hard to recognize the construct as the Jules she knew and hated. How exactly had she gotten to that point? Cassandra could see no real differences between the automation in front of her and the automations hanging on the wall, yet there was no doubt in her mind about who she was looking at. Maybe it was a body-language thing? "Just how did you get over there?" Jules asked after a second, bringing down its arms as if some real weapons of mass destruction had been ready. "The door is over there." The construct pointed at the opposite side of the room. A door was over there. A door that Cassandra wouldn''t have minded knowing about before she had been forced to move through deactivated pieces of scrap. Honestly, what she wouldn''t have given to get a map of the place that was actually user-friendly. Just how did anybody expect her to find anything in the station when the manual wasn''t even readable by the lawyers who wrote them? "I didn''t know about any doors, so I made my own way in," Cassandra answered. She tilted her head back, putting the focus on the wall of automations behind her. The construct in front of her did not look impressive from that answer. "You aren''t actually supposed to touch them, due to the very fragile state they are in, and you forced your way through them?" Jules stated. It might have sounded like a question, but both of them knew just what had been done. Not that the automation hadn''t been expected. From Jules¡¯ expression alone, Cassandra knew that she had surprised the construct in a large fashion. Since the automation had been facing the door since the start, she was guessing it might have been waiting for her to enter through, like the normal human she was expected to behave like. Something told her she might have been the very first to do what she had just done. "There were no warnings on them, so the fault does not lie on my end," Cassandra stated, deciding to get closer to the middle of the room. The construct¡¯s body was stopping her from looking at whatever it had been working on. Together with the bad lighting, there wasn''t actually any real idea of what it could be. Or maybe that was a lie, in some way. She knew exactly what Jules was working on. She just didn''t know what state the other automation was in. Jules just made a sigh way too human for Cassandra¡¯s liking, before sitting back down on its chair and grabbing a small plier. Small clicks had been heard through the wall earlier, and Cassandra began to get a sense of just what had been. The automation on the table was still missing its scalp. By the current point, it was actually missing a good part of its head entirely, a lot of the insides having been taken out and laid on the floor haphazardly. Most of them were covered in the blue blood that Cassandra had seen earlier, making them all look like something much too realistic. It seemed like normal organs coated blue, even if the organs themselves couldn''t be recognized. Were the things designed to be as fleshy as possible or something? "I don''t recommend touching them," Jules said from its seat, not looking over at what the woman was about to grab. Yet it nonetheless knew just what she was getting close to. Were there cameras in the room perhaps? Cassandra couldn''t see any, but that hardly stopped them from being there. "They are coated with a few chemicals that would cause near-permanent discolouration to your skin." ¡­ Alright. Cassandra¡¯s fingers fell back to her sides, the woman suddenly not wanting her hands close to anything that had been in the room before her. Instead, she lowered herself slightly to get a better look at it from afar instead. The eyes only looked like eyes when they were in the construct¡¯s skull. On the inside, they were much bigger than they let on, widening out into the sides of the skull. Just what was the purpose of that. The small holes in the sides hinted at them being forced on with a string of some kind, which made the whole ordeal even weirder. Was it all attached to that? From those constant clips heard from the plier in Jules¡¯ hands, that might just have been it. What a weird way to set it all together. Normally, Cassandra would have expected some form of nails, screws, anything that she could see on normal construction work. Yet¡­ that wasn''t what she was seeing here. Fleshy bags of technology, eyeballs that were big, and everything behind held together with mechanical tendons. Just where was it supposed to make sense again? Because Cassandra was having a hard time making sense of it. "Do you know why you were made the way you were made?" Cassandra asked, wondering if there were any gloves lying around. Even with the threat of her skin becoming discoloured there was still a very large desire to look closer at the different objects normally located inside the constructs. What she was seeing was not actually allowed for public viewing, making it all so very interesting to see. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Jules looked up at her briefly before putting its attention back on making sure that it wasn''t cutting the wrong parts. Being delicate was of utmost importance when routing around in somebody''s brain, after all. "What a loaded question to ask," Jules commented slowly, tilting its head to get a better look at its work. "Any specific way you want me to answer that? Technical? Philosophical? Maybe throw in a bit of math as well?" "I think I would prefer the technical, please," Cassandra stated, searching the floor for anything that resembled gloves that could be used. This here was a facility meant for serious repair, yet she could find nothing insight that even hinted of a toolbox. "I wouldn''t mind getting an explanation of just why it¡¯s all so¡­ flesh-like. By the way, do you have gloves anywhere near here?" "If you want gloves, you¡¯ll have to go upstairs to find them. Only humans need those, after all," Jules instantly answered, clearly having been expecting that question. "And to the flesh-thing¡­ I don''t really know that one. Doesn''t it just make sense? We can''t go around looking like a chunk of steel, with lips made of iron or whatever else. Everything needs to be as life-like as possible, so there wouldn''t be any reason to not make us like this." In the name of seeming human, huh? Cassandra supposed that made sense when it came to the skin and whatnot. But, there was still one facet that she felt needed some attention. "But what about the inside? Why does that need to be made of the same kind of flesh?" Cassandra questioned. "That¡¯s¡­ a good question, actually. One moment," Jules said, stopping in its work and looking forward without movement. The woman could only guess that it was searching the archives for some kind of answer to that. She supposed it wasn''t every day that somebody asked something like that. Not like most people could, seeing as so few actually knew what those constructs looked like on the inside. After a few more seconds of waiting, with no real response coming from Jules, Cassandra decided to use the waiting time for something more practical. Taking back her focus on the organs laid out on the floor, she tried to figure out where in the skull they were supposed to be. The biggest of the organs that had been taken out was likely meant to have been on the top. It looked like one big, curved bag, small lights glowing inside. There was also the fact it had a few very big holes inside of it, with the upper parts having been seemingly ripped off entirely or just barely hanging on at some point. Bullets had very likely travelled through it. The woman didn''t guess that it could be used again, with how much damage had come to it. Two smaller organs sat together, identical except for the fact that they were mirrored. A small thread made them attached to each other, long enough that Cassandra could easily see where they were supposed to be. She guessed them to be the things normally known as the inside of an ear. The length of the thread was close to the exact width of the head in the middle, making it easy to see how they were supposed to fit. Though, that did beg the question of why they were attached to each other at all. It wasn''t the same type of thread that Cassandra had seen used to hold the organs in place, hinting at the fact that there had to be some kind of function for it. She would have tried to ask the only knowledgeable one in the room, but the construct was unfortunately still occupied with finding an answer. Jules really was searching hard for her. Cassandra supposed the construct might have been curious as well. If there had been no interest at all, the woman would have put it behind her if the construct simply refused to answer. It had been preoccupied with an important task, after all. And it was one that was expected to be completed within the night. Even with the time, it had already had to use, it was clear that Jules wasn''t close to even having properly started on the task. The automation really did work hard. Without the need for sleep, Cassandra supposed one could just¡­ never stop working. She wouldn''t have been able to handle it herself, yet she guessed that the automation didn''t have any serious complaints against it. The thing had been made for the job, after all. Working for the force was its purpose. ¡­ Or, could she really call it that? Wasn''t that the same argument used for why everybody needed to have kids, the idea of her existence being for the sole purpose of creating another generation? A grim way to look at the world, which was why it was so peculiar that the same type of argument was what she used for the automation. ¡®It was born to serve,¡¯ just didn''t sound as good as it had five seconds earlier. Cassandra wasn''t sure what to think about it. So¡­ she didn''t think about it, spending the next minute instead looking through the rest of the removed organs. Even if she couldn''t move them, she could move around the table, seeing the pieces of fake flesh from various angles. Even if she didn''t really understand what she saw, it was still interesting to see. Information that others couldn''t easily get was interesting no matter what, after all, and what she was seeing was near top-confidentiality. That did cause some ideas of why it was so easy for her to see it, though. There were no warnings of any real kind down in the basement. There was nothing warning her against classified technology being present, nothing that hinted at her not being allowed to be there. Yet the information couldn''t even be searched for in the database. If it was removed from the general information pool for officers, then it was high up there. Yet, what she saw in front of her was in direct contrast to the earlier deduction. What was the true answer? How secret were the innards of the constructs? Jules chose that moment to jump back into the world of awareness, making a flinch quick enough for Cassandra to get mildly scared at the sudden movement. Not her proudest moment. "How did your search for answers go?" Cassandra asked. "The archives had nothing on it, so I had to request a temporary higher-clearance," Jules started, clearly ready to tell her the whole process. "Then some administration just had to butt in about it all, and it was all so very chaotic. I am apparently the very first automation to have done this, for your information. Had to quickly read through a lot of paperwork to prove I could do what I wanted. Then¡­ the higher clearance did nothing for my information search, so I had to inquire about it directly to one of the people who worked on the automation project. That went surprisingly well if you can imagine it." Cassandra could, in fact, not imagine it, the words going through a filter in her mind. "Did you get the information at least?" "I got the casual answer of it being the fake flesh being able to quintuple our bodies¡¯ resistance to high-intensity impacts to our body. It was apparently a very big problem during the start of the project, so they switched over to fluid-based hardware." What an incredibly boring answer. "What?" Jules said, seeing the expression on Cassandra¡¯s face. "Had you been hoping for something more interesting?" Maybe she had. The woman was just sure she would be getting it. ¡®I am unable to detect any further changes to my head. Is there a reason for the break being taken? I believe the reparations were deemed to be a higher priority'' was sent out to anybody with access to the police channel. It was very low-intensity, only able to be heard to those within two meters. Not the most interesting thing in the world. What was interesting, though, was the fact that it had not come from Cassandra or Jules. It had come from the construct with an empty head. Chapter 347: Matrix
Right. Humans were dead when they lost their heads. Automations didn''t have this restriction, just switching over to non-verbal communication instead. Cassandra felt like she really should have remembered this fact before she took a step back in shock over what she thought was the new Frankenstein. Her old tutors would have been ashamed at her lacking composure. "I thought it would be shut down while you operated on it," Cassandra said, getting close to the partly dissected construct. The woman had mostly spent her time looking through the parts that had been taken out of the thing, never really bothering to see the current insides of the skull. She almost wished she hadn''t, her immediate reaction to the sight being to feel the contents of her stomach bubbling up. It was not pretty, some parts of the inner nose barely hanging on as it was. The woman guessed that Jules had been in the process of cutting that part out before she had invaded the construct''s private space. Below the half-removed inner nose was the mouth cavity. She couldn''t actually see the inside of the mouth, seeing as it apparently functioned as its own thing, a small wall stopped anybody from going through the head and into it. A normal human would have had tubes that connected to it, but there was barely anything fitting those requirements. Though¡­ the woman was decently sure she could see some kind of tube under the mouth, going down into the throat. Food had to go somewhere, she supposed, even if Cassandra wondered just where it went after that point. She put it up on a list of questions she already had when the chance came around for it. "It was supposed to be shut down at some level, yet my inactivity seems to have spurred an emergency restart," Jules said. The construct put its finger on the other automations neck, eyes moving rapidly at the same time. Cassandra guessed that some kind of interfacing was being done, even if she couldn''t really know what it was about exactly. She just left the automation to its own devices, not wanting to bother with any questions that could possibly interfere with Jules¡¯ work. She had to wonder why the construct that was being operated on used a global messaging instead of directing it at the other automation specifically. There was no way that it had guessed she would be in the room, eliminating the sole reason for even having the general chat. Perhaps the function for ranged directional messaging was damaged in some way? Or it might just have been one of the organs that Jules had taken out. No real way to know without stopping the automation from working. ¡®Protocol for shutting off has failed repeatedly. An error in this function has been detected. Source not located. Assistance is requested,¡¯ the automation on the table decided to send out. Jules removed its fingers from the other¡¯s neck, looking displeased with itself. Bad day, perhaps? Or maybe the problems were just a bit more complex than expected. "The core body has somehow been damaged without having any obvious wounds on the surface," Jules commented with a sigh, the construct sitting back in its chair. It looked overworked, sleep-deprived, and so many other things all at once. Cassandra nearly felt the need to ask if she needed to get some coffee. "My day suddenly got that much longer. I am not sure if I would be able to finish this myself within the time frame that I have to work with." It couldn''t do the work needed with the resources it had to pull from. The woman could relate to that, having had similar problems when understaffed while having the exact same problems as before. In such a time, there really only was one way to handle it. "Do you need me to help?" Cassandra inquired, putting her sleeves up a bit. "While I have not undergone training in this field, I do believe I could-" "Nah, don''t worry about it," Jules cut in, stopping her from doing her customary sales pitch. A shame, since the woman had spent so much time practising. She definitely showed her displeasure at not being allowed to finish. "No need to permanently ruin those hands of yours. And some of this stuff might even put you in the medical anyway, so there¡¯s no chance that I could in good conscience allow you to even touch the innards. Instead, I have just the thing that might help." Wiping off the small stains on the fingers, Jules went over to the row of automations that stood by. Or, more specifically, the construct went over to the only one of them that had different clothes on. Instead of a simple white fabric meant to hide the body, this one had something resembling the inner layer of a police uniform. Cassandra wondered why that was, until the construct was activated, the thing opening its eyes the same second that Jules put its hands on the neck of the automation. "Automation number five, six, two, nine-" the construct began, but Jules hurriedly stopped it before the thing could get too deep into it. "No need to say all that stuff, man," Jules stated, doing a small wave of its hands. That made the construct stop, eyeing the other one in front of it. "Please do an inner diagnostics about your personality matrix and give a brief summary." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was a second of waiting, where the construct simply looked at Jules without movement before it suddenly began talking again. "No errors detected. Personality matrix fully operational," the construct stated. "I am to report to Officer Grunwald to work as his personal assistant. Please give me directions to Officer Grunwald." Oh, Cassandra was actually wondering about that. Throughout the last couple of days, she and Jared had been accompanied by an automation near-constantly. Yet, there had never been a single time where Grunwald had been seen near an automation at all. The officer had previously mentioned that they would be all getting personalised automations sent to them, eyt the superior officer had clearly never felt the need to grow accustomed to the one issued to him. Cassandra wasn''t that sure what she really thought about that face. Was it bad or was it good? She guessed the man might just have not yet needed automation by his side. Really, the only real task that had involved being out of the station had been without a construct, though that had been more due to Jared¡¯s involvement than anything. Cassandra wondered if that man would try the same trick during their next major excursion. "There isn''t any need for that. You can trust me on that," Jules said, giving a clap on the other construct¡¯s shoulder and lightly pushing it towards Cassandra and the table she stood by. "As of yet, there hasn''t been the slightest call for aid, giving you all the free time that you will ever need." "... I do not comprehend. My task is to assist Officer Grunwald with his missions and help fulfil the objectives set out by him. If there hasn''t yet been a request for me to be activated, why have I have been put online?" the construct asked, clearly not able to understand what was going on. Cassandra could understand that. She couldn''t really understand it that well either. "You got activated by me, your senior due to time spent online and general experiences. Due to this totally official ranking, I am able to give you orders that would help me assist my own tasks in record time," Jules answered. The two constructs got over to the table, having moved through the rubble on the floor carefully. "Now! Just to be sure. You do have the pre-installed skill-set surrounding how to repair fellow automations, right? Because if you don''t, then we¡¯re gonna have to make a call so you can get it." "I have been installed with the standard skill-set, which does include how to repair an automation, yes," the construct answered with a nod, before seemingly shifting its tone over to something more serious. This was surprising since the pile of new scrap clearly had no tone other than seriousness. "However, your attempts to pull rank are not official and are therefore in breach of code. I must inform you that there will be a report about this behaviour, and that-" "It was a joke! A fun twist of sarcasm between friends. A jab between brothers in arms. You understood that, of course. Even if you don''t show that much personality, you should still be able to detect sarcasm, right?" The newly activated automation was silent for a few seconds, the internal processor apparently having a field day trying to understand just what was happening around it. Cassandra thought about helping by saying something, but¡­ she felt it would be better if she just let it be. Jules was clearly not screwing anything up. "Your earlier words about ranking were meant to be humorous in nature and not meant as a serious statement?" the construct finally asked. "Of course!" Jules replied, clearly desperate to not get reported from something as simple as that. "Then there is no need to report this behaviour," the construct answered, which caused something of a relieved sigh to come out of the other automation in the room. "However, I believe you are asking for my assistance in doing your task. Is this request done out of laziness, desperation, or a mix of both?" "... I suppose it¡¯s desperation at this point. My arms are unable to move at the necessary speed while upholding the required precision, leading to the fact that I need another automation to do some of the work. With your unneeded presence around Officer Grunwald, the personality matrix in me found it possible to use the unused resources that are commonly known as you. Was that a good enough reason?" "It upholds the protocols set up for improvised assistance and is therefore satisfactory," the automation answered. "According to the records, your current task is to examine the damaged construct in front of us, evaluate the chances of repair, and, if the second objective turns out positive, repair all parts until deemed to be in mint condition. Is this correct?" "It is indeed, my good friend," Jules said, looking quite happy with itself. "The evaluation is complete and I have deemed it possible to repair. The damage is mainly in the cranium and will require minor replacements due to this. However, there is also an error in the shut-down protocol in the core of the body. The reasoning for this is unknown and will likely require an extensive search to find. I am putting you on that task. Is that understood?" "Yes." "Then let¡¯s start up, shall we?" And so, the two automations began working in tandem, showcasing an efficiency that Cassandra rarely saw in her human compatriots. The newly introduced automation went over to the heap of items on the floor, taking out one within an instant, and began to use it around the abdominal area of the partly cut-up construct. Cassandra had never actually seen the tool before and was therefore quite curious about its functions. So¡­ she did what she had done before, and moved closer to the operation, going within the two-meter radius around the table. That was apparently one of the most grievous offences that she could have ever performed. "Please vacate the immediate area. Your presence may cause an unwanted continuation of the body and be the reason for¡­" the newly activated construct began, but stopped itself not long after. That caused Jules to again look up from its work, stopping the cutting only a minute or two after starting up again. It looked mildly annoyed from that. "You are not supposed to be down here. As this floor is mainly used for the purpose of automations¡¯ operations, I please ask that you leave this-" "Don''t mind her now. She¡¯s allowed to be here, just as much as we are. Not like the two of us will ever actually use all the space here," Jules cut in, stopping the confrontation before it began. "That is understandable. However, the chances of contamination are still-" "This procedure will not do anything intrusive enough where we have to worry about contamination, therefore making those protocols void. Back to work now. Just let her look as much as she wants," Jules said with finality to its voice. "I am honestly surprised that you have a personality matrix installed when you talk like that." The newly made construct looked over at Jules for a second before going back to work. That action told Cassandra all she needed to know, meanwhile confirming that the construct did indeed know something about personalities. Chapter 348: Stitch
Cassandra continued to watch the two automations do their task. It was certainly some interesting stuff that only got more and more grotesque as they continued. She might have been a little squeamish about it all at the start, but her mind just adapted to the sight after the ten-minute mark. It did help that she had seen it all before. Cassandra doubted a civilian could look at it, at the very least. The similarities between it and a normal corpse were uncanny. When ignoring the blue, there was doubt that what she was seeing was even that of an automation and not a mutated human. The organs were undoubtedly not what they were supposed to be, but it could have all been excused as some messed up evolutionary trait. If Cassandra had been told that it was all organic, that it all came from a human, she would have believed it. The skin of the construct was a mystery, however. It didn''t act like human skin would, not holding itself together for as long as it possibly could. She got an extreme example of such when the newer construct needed to open up a hole in the stomach of the damaged automation. Instead of taking out a scalpel, or anything sharp for that matter, it just slowly drew its finger across the places that needed to separate. And¡­ the skin obliged, tearing itself exactly at the points that were required of it. That was the point where Cassandra got to see the core of an automation. She still wasn''t too sure what to call it all, for there had been a lot more than she could even fathom. The designs, the masses were hidden away, and the constant presence of strings just didn''t help her at all. Almost none of it could be understood, every part of the body seeming so foreign to her. It was as if she was looking at an alien. Which she pretty much was, with how distant everything in it was when compared to things she had seen before. There was no real difference, honestly, and Cassandra could attest to such a claim with how badly her understanding had grown over the two hours she had stood and watched. Jules had most certainly not lied about the time it would take, the construct she knew so well having slowly removed just about everything from the head of the damaged automation. It had been a gruelling procedure to watch, partly due to the sheer amount of things strewn across the table at that point. Some parts were more damaged than others. Most were in pristine condition, yet there were some extreme cases where clear fluid slowly leaked out. Since Cassandra had been told to take a step back at that point, she wasn''t really sure what that liquid was nor how dangerous it was to be near. She just knew that her health was on the line if she was too close to it. The other automation that had been activated for assistance had taken a much different route than Jules did. Cassandra supposed this was due to the area they were rooting around in, and just how dangerous it really was to mess with anything in there. The core of the automations were their chests after all, with it holding nearly everything of importance inside. To crudely cut out whatever one wanted was tantamount to outright murder. Anything inside the ribcage was vital enough to be hidden by several layers, making it clear that it was all able to take lethal damage at the slightest scratch. This was why there was no sharp object in the automation¡¯s hands, as it slowly pushed aside the various organs, slowly going through the body with no hesitance. That act went on for close to a full hour, where there was finally some manner of an update. The breach had been found, and it was an arguably easy fix. A smaller wire meant to send data had been bent in the wrong way due to the pressure of having to seal up holes in the head, and had therefore clogged up to the point where sending data through was almost impossible. From what Cassandra had understood, it had been fixed by sending in a replacement to solve it, that particular part of the wire having been ruined beyond any restoration. There had clearly not been any happiness from that action. According to what Jules had told her later on, those with personality matrixes were apparently very thoughtful about only having the same parts to themselves. Cassandra hadn''t particularly felt empathy with this way of life, the woman had cut off a lot of her original muscle tissue willingly. Perhaps it was just another thing that she would never truly understand. She wouldn''t put I past herself, at least. The replacement procedure itself was quite the thing to watch, Jules actually having to come in and assist the other automation during the task. Holding the ends of the wires, helping place the new parts where they were supposed to be before fusing it together using it extreme heat. It was a wonderful process that Cassandra fully understood for once, being able to go through each step herself if given the time and resources. This was likely also the last point where she ever had any semblance of knowledge about what was going on. With the extra automation¡¯s task completed, there had been the initial idea of it going back to its resting place and remaining inactive until officer Grunwald called for it. Yet, Jules had told of different ideas, of a scenario where the automation helped even more by repairing the damaged organs. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Cassandra was happy to have been a part of the audience during that exchange. The new construct had not been happy about staying, yet Jules had spent quite a while detailing the necessities of the automation staying around. It had ended up with the automation staying in the end, so that was slightly unexpected. Cassandra had personally bet on the construct leaving. It was yet another thing to be surprised by, she supposed. Not that it had mattered much or anything. The corpse had been almost completely ignored after that, the two constructs spending the next hour meticulously going through just about every square centimetre of every organ that had been removed. With how much surface area that equated, it was safe to say that it had been a time-consuming experience. Yet it had likewise been extremely surreal. Cassandra had not yet figured out just what she had been expecting when she realised they had moved onto the actual repairing face. How did one fix a damaged organ? Was more mass added to add to that which had been lost? Maybe there would be sewed parts of it together again. Whatever she might have guessed it to be would have been wrong, at least. Needles. That was the answer. The two automations pricked the organs with needles, again and again, shifting their grip slightly with each stab. The needles themselves were perhaps a bit wider than normal, yet that had been the only real outstanding feature of them. To Cassandra, as the only one not in the know, it had seemed like any old office supply that could have easily been taken from somebody''s desk. It just didn''t make sense. The explanation that Jules had given her made even less sense in the end. Something about openings promoting growth. Yet¡­ constructs didn''t actually grow, so it was closer to an analogy of sorts about how the materials used were self-healing if hit hard enough with smaller wounds. Therefore, the process of repairing the organs was less about healing them directly but allowing it to heal a mass of smaller wounds which would culminate in some overheal that would go over the very damaged part which would in the end cause a total restoration of the entire organ. Again, it wasn''t something that Cassandra could fully get her hands around. Maybe it was just the automation explaining it badly, however. It wasn''t like there was any real way to be sure, since the information was not available online. After those rounds of stabbing organs, it was time to put it all back into the head again. Now that was something that Cassandra could understand, having seen the reverse before. It was basically the opposite of what Jules had spent so long doing, tying all the organs together to the side with string. There were also other parts that were put back into place, such as connections for the blue blood to flow through the different organs. The fluid inside was apparently something that needed to be changed around regularly, therefore requiring the need for a pump. That meant that the automations had some kind of heart. Or, that¡¯s how Cassandra saw that fact. It took a whole hour more before the two automations were finally done. It turned out that stitching it all together, making sure that the different parts didn''t break from sudden movements, and then finally restricting the upper parts of the cranium was something that was very time-intensive. And it would apparently have taken a lot more time, if not for a lot of the work already having been done by the damaged automation itself, the construct spending most of the time actively making the calculations needed for the cranium placement. Then¡­ It was done. The top of the automation was put back into place, the skin made to restructure itself to hide anything that had been there before, and¡­ it all looked good as new. Cassandre couldn''t even tell that the construct had been damaged to begin with. The formerly damaged automation was still hurried over to one of the places on the wall, however. According to Jules, the materials used to set the organs in place were still made to only truly harden after ten hours of downtime, making it needed to not move at all during that time. Cassandra wasn''t sure that time requirement would be held fully since Jared was to wake up within a few hours. That was one thing that had not really been noticed. Cassandra, in all her wisdom, had stayed down in the basement for more hours than she had originally intended. Most of the night had already passed by that point, morning soon coming around. Not that her body was protesting her choice, her mind still refusing the idea of actually sleeping or anything close to it. "I believe that was everything we needed to do tonight," Jules said, stretching its arms up high. Not that there was actually any need to stretch out the automations body without such a flaw. But, Cassandra knew that was just another part that stuck to the constructs as an example of imitating humans. Even in the basement, they would do it, the action so ingrained in them. "While there were a few hiccups, I must thank you for your service today." That wasn''t spoken to Cassandra but to the other automation in the room. It simply nodded at Jules, however, not showing any real emotion towards the fact that they had finished a long and arduous task. "I am happy that I could be of assistance. If there is nothing else, I will return to an inactive state." And so it walked off, without any other words or anything that implied any enjoyment out of what had transpired. No real emotion. Cassandra felt the actions as offish, the woman had expected something more from the constructs. Maybe Jules was just the weird one of the bunch, much too expressive for its own good? "I gotta give that one a name before I die," Jules said, before slapping the upper part of its face. "Wait, no! I jinxed it! My death will be swift and without mercy!" Yup. Definitely too expressive. "If that was all, do you want to leave this floor? It has been getting cold as of late," Cassandra asked, her words once again reminding her of how cool the air was. She would have continued to wear her jacket if she had known how cold it would be there. "No thank you. You can just go up to your bed now," Jules said. That did cause some confusion on the woman¡¯s face, so the construct explained it in more detail. "It has been a long time since I got juiced up, so I kinda need to do that for the next few hours I have left this morning. I¡¯ll see you when duty calls for both of us." ¡­ Right. Cassandra decided to take one step in front of the other. The night had been long, and her legs were tired from standing. Even if she couldn''t sleep, her body still needed to lie down for a while. Chapter 349: Robbery
Sleep was a beast rarely conquered. It was a part of life that was as inevitable as death, yet few ever looked at it as such. Maybe it was due to the commonness of it around, or maybe it was due to the brain not having been engineered to ignore that part of life. Cassandra certainly wouldn''t ever get the fact of it existing out of her head, her body reminding her of the fact every single day. What she wouldn''t have given for it to help her along into the world of mindlessness, instead of just complaining about not being there. It was like the dog that wouldn''t give the toy over, yet would still endlessly complain about it not being thrown. The end result was just the same as always, Cassandra having to lie down silently, waiting for the day to come around with nothing to show for it. At the very least, the lack of movement on her part made it possible to still rest her body somewhat. Sure, it wasn''t close to what would have been gained by sleeping, yet just the act of letting her body rest did somewhat recuperate her to the point where she could hold out another day. And maybe it also helped that she took a few energy pills. But, that didn''t sound as good on paper, so she just ignored that part of her daily routine. Seeing as she hadn''t slept the entire night, Cassandra was more than capable of getting up at her assigned sign, not even letting the construct outside her door get comfortable with standing around. That allowed her plenty of time to get ready and more than enough to pull herself together enough to get some in-room breakfast. Rations meant for emergencies were always the best. Jules had barely been allowed to knock on the door before she had pulled it open. That did leave the automation looking somewhat surprised, but Cassandra didn''t really pay attention to it that much, the woman just walking right down the hallway immediately. "Uhm¡­ good morning?" Jules said, having catched up with her after having been left at the door. The construct was clearly not on the assumption of having needed to move, having seemingly pulled off power to its legs for some time. An interesting idea of power-conservation, yet it did leave the construct without the ability to quickly restart movement. "Good morning to you too," Cassandra said, keeping pace with her heart. Step after step, she was making sure to walk as quickly as she could without going into a run. The automation matched her speed easily, even if it had been left behind at the start. That did leave her wondering about something, however. "Was the repowering successful?" Cassandra had been left to herself earlier that morning since the automation had been forced to use the last hours of the night charging itself up. A completely understandable necessity, since the construct didn''t have the battery capacity to run for more than a day or two at full speed. And with how much action had happened over the last twenty-four hours alone, the woman had been surprised about it not happening sooner. "There weren''t any major problems to speak off," Jules began, clearly having some form of a story about it ready. "I was contacted by my manufacturer halfway through it, though. Something about me displaying abnormal, never seen before actions that they needed to check through. Spent a good ten minutes having to send over every log that I had ever created. Not that it actually did anything, since they never actually got back to me what it was about." Well¡­ that was weird. Weird enough that Cassandra briefly looked over at the construct, who looked similarly weirded out by the displayed behaviour of the superiors. Or whatever the manufacturer was called. She didn''t know the specifics about their ranking within the system itself. However, she did know a few facts about the rules of interaction. "Aren''t they required by law to inform you what they used the data for, when during a search so extensive?" Cassandra asked, trying to remember the details word-for-word. When she had been told about her starting out working with automations, it had been recommended to her that she should read the rules and guidelines on how to properly interact with the constructs. Most of the rules set out had been pretty basic, basically being retellings about the rules involving violence, ways of speeches, in what way death threats would be handled, and many other things like that. But some of the later ones extended to how specific amounts of confidential information was to be handled. Even if Cassandra was fully allowed to overlook information about the automation, she was only allowed to do it in a manual sense. She wasn''t allowed to send in a program that searched through large amounts of information for any specific mention of some kind. Anything searched above fifty per cent of the total amount of information actually required direct approval from one of the higher-ups. And even at that point, there was a very hard-set rule about the construct itself needing to be told what the information was used for. The rule itself had been created due to public demand, and Cassandra knew just how dead-set the government was on not breaking protocols made in such a fashion. The amount of bad press due to it had the potential of being devastating to everybody involved, after all. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "They most certainly are," Jules agreed, nodding its head feverishly. "Which is why I¡¯ve sent in an official complaint concerning it. Not that I should expect anything to be responded to soon. The waiting list is checked manually and can apparently take months of waiting just to begin the reviewing process." Oh, how she loved the bureaucratic way of life, everybody dying of old age before any problems could be taken seriously. It was the way things turned, and the way it would always turn. Any who tried to change it would just wither long before the proposal was brought up. That was always fun, and exactly the reason that Cassandra had never dreamt of joining that business. Anywho. The two of them finally did reach the cafeteria. Cassandra hadn''t originally desired to go anywhere near it, yet felt there was an actual need for it due to her body requiring some form of liquid. The only real thing she could get from her own room was from bottled water or from the tap, and one was being saved for her snack-times while the other was dangerous for humans to drink. Not the greatest choices in the world, leaving the woman with the need to go where others could do the same. And that fact was cemented hard into the earth, as the woman instantly saw officer Grunwald standing by the kitchen counters, eating the same kind of monstrosity she had seen the day prior. A small bag of them sat on the table, ready to be taken from. Cassandra did her best to avoid them, giving that table a wider berth than normal. "Morning, Cass," Grunwald greeted, seemingly not noticing the woman¡¯s antics. The woman in question was happy with that, not wanting to explain just how much she detested the need to even be in the same room as those things. "I hope you slept well." "I slept fine, sir," Cass said, lying as easily as she breathed. "And good morning to you right back." "Good to hear," Grunwald said, moving to the side so that Cassandra could get to the coffee machine. The name of it was misleading since it could give out so much more than that, yet the woman just used the name it had been given since that start. There was an idea about getting herself some hot tea to start out the day with, yet she knew the quality of it would be lacking to her taste. She hadn''t actually had a good sample of Jared¡¯s brew in the last days, the woman not too happy about that fact. Not like she could request the man to wake up and make her some, Jared still lying half-dead in the medical wing. So, with no other chance of getting herself a drink of actual quality, Cassandra chose to skydive into the abyss and choose a cold, sweet tea. Even her superior officer had to look at her twice to make sure she hadn''t mispressed anything on the machine. "Trying out new things is always good, I guess," Grunwald stated, sipping his own, very hot coffee. Cassandra had never been one to enjoy that brew, yet it was clearly popular among her colleagues. Not like the feeling of caffeine actually ever hit them, their bodies resisting the effect before it ever had a chance. That was why the two others in the station usually put a few extra ingredients in there, so the kick was actually felt. A placebo could do that much, after all. "Indeed it is," Cass said, trying out the cold brew in her hand. The taste was alright, yet it did not match the temperature at all. She almost wanted to spill it into the sink and get the hot version immediately, yet she knew she couldn''t do that. A certain construct was waiting outside the door for her to come out, after all. The silence was enjoyed for a minute, Cassandra doing her best to get through her morning drink. It was hard, and the cup was much larger than she usually felt it was, but hard work made her empty half of it into her gullet in record time. Quite the achievement, with the taste sending her so many feelings of uncanniness. Grunwald just stood in silence, looking forward into the empty air. Cassandra had originally seen it as a good thing, the man just enjoying the quiet morning that they had at their disposal, yet time progressed with no real change to the man¡¯s features. It seemed he was deep in thought, the subject not being easy on his mind. In other words, it was something that the woman wanted to know as much about as possible. "Is something wrong, sir?" Cass asked, making sure to bring up the innocence up to a level unprecedented. To the unexpected, she seemed just like a worried colleague, only just noticing that her dear friends and coworker looked to be a bit off early in the day. "You seem rather disgruntled about something." That certainly brought the man out of his hole, a small jump at the sudden noise. Had he really forgotten that Cassandra was in the room? The officer couldn''t have possibly passed the spatial awareness test put out in the current day. Or maybe it was just a bad mix of age and emotion that made that mind of his seem so dull to the outside viewer. "It¡¯s nothing incredibly serious, Cass," Grunwald said quickly. That made the woman want to press the topic even harder, yet the man had seemingly just been knocked hard enough on the head for her to not even need to do anything more persuasive. "It¡¯s just a report that was sent in by a civilian a few minutes ago that has left me rather surprised." Oh? A report that was extreme enough that a near-veteran of the industry was put off his game, yet still not serious enough to warrant immediate action. "Just what did that report include?" Cass asked. "There was a robbery reported," Grunwald stated. "It apparently happened several days ago, yet nobody had the slightest clue of it ever happening until now. No security alerts were triggered. Nothing at all, actually." It took Cassandra no guesses at all on why exactly that disgruntled the man so much. The thieves from before were back, and they hadn''t noticed at all. Chapter 350: Precision
"What store was robbed?" Cassandra asked. Her curiosity got the better of her when she realized that her mask had apparently dropped for a second, genuine interest in the subject shining through for a moment. Not that Grunwald seemed to notice, the man too invested in his own words. "What stores, you mean," Grunwald corrected, not actually seeming happy that the correction could be made to behind with. Neither did Cassandra, for very obvious reasons related to her prior engagements with the thieves. "A whole line of them on a single street very close to the station was broken into. Glass is everywhere on the street." A whole line of stores. That wasn''t good. That was terrible, unworkable, and not something that should have happened without the station noticing instantly. Cassandra had worked hard to make sure that there was no chance of a single store in the whole city not being broken into without her and the rest of her co-workers knowing about it. She had expanded the timers long ago, each store in the entire city equipped with a direct line to the station. The thieves had been known for their ability to turn off the in-built alarms, and she had accounted for that, by slapping on a program meant to notice such manipulations. And it had been working for so long. Why exactly didn''t it work now? A single store could have been ignored. All the stores being equipped had been some hasty work on her part, and Cassandra would not have put it behind herself to have messed up some of the later ones that were closer to the station. Yet the chance that an entire street of them had been equipped with faulty detectors was an idea that just didn''t make sense in her head. "Do you think it might be a new group of thieves?" Cass asked, not sure what to think of the situation herself. She couldn''t get it through her head. "God, I hope not. And I don''t think it is, looking at it objectively either," Grunwald answered, looking up at the ceiling for a few moments. The man was clearly stressed to the bone with the new ongoings. "The way they¡¯ve done it isn''t that different from what we¡¯ve seen prior to this. And from the descriptions given out, it would require technology capable of doing things that we have only seen from this specific group of criminals. No other city in the entire world has reported this problem, so there aren''t any chances of it being a new product in the underground making it possible." "So it¡¯s the same group," Cass stated, feeling similar levels of despair now. "They¡¯ve just learned to counter our tactics, making it yet again impossible for us to know when they strike a new store." "Exactly my point," the older officer in the room said, not seeming happy that another person got the exact same idea of just what was happening. Had he been hoping in old age he twisted his view or something? "Some of the stores are very outside of their other targets, yet the style with each store is apparently identical. And, more importantly, one of the stores robbed was one of the ones that stored that piece of medical equipment you were so serious about removing." Things just got worse and worse with each word. First, there were new patterns all around, and then there were ideas about the thieves knowing more than they should have. Cassandra really did hope for some good news. "Any chance of them recognizing the store being under lockdown due to the security in front?" Cassandra suggested. "The chances are very slim. This is the first time they¡¯ve hit a place so close to the station," Grunwald stated, rejecting the idea. "No, they needed to have known about it beforehand¡­ I have an idea about what could have happened. After failing to capture the target, you mentioned that Jared drove over to the store assigned to you. Do you know if he drove directly over to me after that or if he drove back to the store that he was assigned to?" "He drove back since he had not yet packed all the items into the vehicle," Cassandra answered, her mind trying to follow along with the conversation as best as he could. "Do you think the thieves could have followed along without being noticed?" "There are very slim chances of that happening when it comes to Jared. I would think it more likely that they got a tracker on the car somehow," Grunwald stated. That¡­ was not something that Cassandra would have guessed towards. It honestly seemed like a blind throw into the mist. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Yet¡­ it did cover what needed to have happened for the thieves to know just where the store was. And since the third store, where Grunwald had been located, was over five kilometres away from the first two, it made sense for them to have only tried to hit the second one. Actually, there might have been a chance that the tracker couldn''t even have hit that far, the smaller sizes used for some of them stopping any real distance from being covered. "That does not sound like a bad theory at all," Cassandra said. Looking at the time, Jared would be waking up in a few hours. The woman thought about suggesting that the man would be put on that case, yet she also figured that too much time would have passed by then. "I think I could actually check out the car Jared drove in and search it for anything that fit the criteria of a tracker." "That would certainly confirm the idea if you found anything," Grunwald commented. "Cass, I leave this matter to you. I¡¯ll have the location and the report from the civilian sent over to you immediately. The rest will be done by you. And remember to catalogue all the stolen items, please." Cassandra gave a swift nod, downing the rest of the terrible drink down her throat, and leaving the cafeteria in a hurry. Jules was waiting just outside the door, ready to say some kind of comment to her. Yet the woman¡¯s gaze was more than enough for any jolly mood to be ruined, as the two quickly began to increase their pace down the hall. "I feel like the task of the day has been altered from what we had planned," Jules commented as they walked outside, Cassandra beginning to search up the logs from a few nights before. "No more cataloguing of found items for us." The woman was sure that Jared would be more than happy to go into the forest and do it for them when he woke up from his induced sleep. In the meanwhile, she had to figure out which car that the man had driven in during the time they had set up a trap for the thieves. It was a surprisingly hard task to do, as the man never seemed to fill out all the details in his report. That lack of proper filing finally seemed to hit them back, Cassandra was forced to rely on her own report of the night. In it, she had commented on the man using the oldest car in the entire station. That aforementioned car had been used the previous night as well, making it easy to see which it was. The bullet holes and broken window just made it stand out all the more. It was actually scheduled for a deep clean later that day, making the woman happy that she had heard the theory so early on. If the tracker was found, then they had a much easier time later on. "We will be responding to a robbery," Cassandra finally told Jules, the construct seeming a bit iffy about having been ignored for so long. The woman couldn''t help it, honestly, too preoccupied with doing her job. "First, however, we have to search through this car here for any trackers stuck on the outside. Do you have the necessary equipment for such a task, or do I need to-" "I have plenty of equipment to use for this, so step aside now, please," Jules cut in, more than ready to show off what it was made of. Cassandra took that as a yes to her unfinished question, standing back to allow the construct to move around freely. If not for the fact that it was equipped with such a device, she would have been forced to go over to the lockers to find something that would work. Not the greatest way to spend her time, searching through hundreds of different scanners for this very specific task, making it all the easier that she had an automation at hand that could handle all the heavy lifting for it. It truly was the larger version of a swiss-army-knife, with this one being able to walk on two legs. Though, she wasn''t sure how the army knife would react if she ever let that statement out into the air. "Found it!" the army- Jules, Cassandra meant, stated. The automation was hunched over at the back of the car, nearly on its stomach as it looked up at the underside of the car. Cassandra fell into the same position right beside it, dead-set on getting a look at the situation as well. And she was glad she did, meanwhile being even happier that she wasn''t the one who had been tasked with finding it. The tracker was smaller than anything she had seen before, to the point where the woman initially thought it to be a piece of dried mud that had settled on the car paint. But that wasn''t what it was at all, the domed point making it obvious that it was man-made. "Do you recognize it from previous items found?" Cassandra asked, seeing that the automation was lying dead-still. That was beginning to become the more obvious example of it being very focused on finding some piece of information in its archives. The woman didn''t even care about the lack of movement anymore, only seeing it as another method of body language that could be used for her own reading. "Nope. There is not a single previous incident in the last ten years where this item has been used before," Jules stated, taking it off the car and putting it in its hand. "There are a few examples that seem close to it in shape, but nothing is close to the size of this thing. It¡¯s way too small for anything that should be remotely practical." The small tracker sat on the tip of the automation¡¯s finger, yet even then it seemed so unnaturally small compared to the skin it was on. Cassandra couldn''t help but fear them losing the gadget due to the wind unintentionally picking it up. She didn''t even dare take it into her own hand, for the fear of it slipping through her fingers. "Bag it quickly, and then let''s put it into evidence," Cassandra stated, getting up from her prone position. She was very happy about nobody really being outside nowadays, knowing full well that her earlier position under the car wouldn''t have been looked at as anything close to professional. The automation took out a bad from who-knew-where, before putting the small tacker inside. It barely even took any space inside the bag, even when the construct had picked the smallest one at their disposal. "Do you think it was hand-made then?" the automation quested, bringing the bag right up to its eye. "I can see some shoddy fusing at the back of it, so it couldn''t have been made in a fabricator. And since this isn''t produced commercially, it has to be hand-made right?" That was a scary thought to have. "It would require extreme precision and very expensive equipment to do right, with the person making it being akin to a literal genius of the decade¡­ but, yes, it is very much possible that¡¯s what it is," Cassandra stated. "Now, let''s go inside so we can drop this off, and then let''s go over to the actual crime scene that we¡¯re supposed to already be at." ¡­ Cassandra felt a chill down her back right there. She didn''t see it as a positive thing. Chapter 351: Glitter
The two got the tracker over to the evidence lockers, before heading out in one of the other cars. Cassandra had initially thought about staying back at the station for a while, to check if anything else could have been gotten out of looking at the tracker. There was still a chance that the first analysis of its structure had been crude in some form, stopping the system from correctly identifying it with its counterparts that had already been discovered earlier on. Yet they still moved on, the woman not truly trusting that such a mistake could have ever been made. Not like the machines ever only did one scan of any item nowadays, thousands being done by the milliseconds. In fact, with how much power there was in those bastards, the woman wouldn''t have been too shocked about it having reached the millions by now. Anything being missed by the eyes of the machines was quite the miracle, no matter what the consequences of that were. The drive over to the site wasn''t long, bordering on not even taking a full minute. Then again, it was Jules driving, and the automation had clearly grown out of the steady pace that had been witnessed the day prior. Cassandra most certainly held on to dear life, as she witnessed mania beginning to sprout in that which should not have had the ability to gain such a condition. Truly a vacant yet abhorrent sight to witness. Especially when it involved the woman being frightened due to the chance of being bashed against the sidewalk. Not that Cassandra really did need to worry about that. The worst that would happen at the current speed was her getting a few bruises among other things. She could perhaps twist an ankle if she hit the road at the wrong angle, yet nothing worse could really happen. When mixed with the woman¡¯s training of high-velocity bracing, there weren''t any lethal dangers associated with being thrown out of the car. It would hurt, yes, but it wasn''t like she would die from it. Maybe it was more the anticipation of it all that drove her mad. The idea that it could happen. If she had been thrown out the moment she sat down on the seat, Cassandra wasn''t too sure she would have been bothered by it as she normally was. It would be a quick flying, a quick impact, and then end with her being permanently in the driver¡¯s seat instead of the automation. In reality, it was just a constant state of almost being about to crash. There was never a moment where Cassandra didn''t doubt that a single distraction could be the reason that they would check the structural security of a light pole. Nevertheless, these fears were never actually realised during their journey. Not that Cassandra didn''t doubt that it was likely to happen sometime in the future. She was just happy that it hadn''t happened that day. For if it had, she might not have been able to see the sight that met the two officers, as they stepped out of their car on a very specific street. Cassandra couldn''t actually get the name to stick in her head, yet the sight seen made it very obvious why she would forever remember it after that point. Snow had certainly fallen during the last couple of nights, yet the sun had clearly been at work too, melting the snow on top just barely. Yet the overall temperature did always win out in the end, the water melted turning into ice that could reflect in the sun that shined beautifully. Yet that ice that could be seen everywhere was more than a little deceptive, and Cassandra had to stand there for a few seconds before realising what was amiss about the whole thing. The ice reflected everything to every side, giving the woman small light dots to see everywhere she looked. That was not how ice worked at all, the surface not jagged enough to constantly be in her eye. That could only mean one thing. That something other than the ice sat on the ground, shining the lights from beneath. And those somethings could be very clearly seen the moment that Cassandra bent her knees a little to get closer to the ground. A thousand wasn''t enough of a count. That was her first thought, as she looked upon the millions of shards that littered the whole street. Most of the shop¡¯s around her had gotten all the windows inside shattered, with the wind having seemingly picked it all out and strewed it as an even layer across the whole place. It was a minefield where nobody ever needed to fall, lest the glass would cut their legs and hands up without mercy. Cassandra did see some beauty in that, even if her idea about why it had been done isn''t exactly clear. What purpose had the thieves seen for doing all of this? It must have taken more than a little effort to blow out every window in every store. Wouldn''t one window for each place have been enough? Cassandra couldn''t see the point of it all, every floor of every store not having a single hint of remaining glass hanging. It was unbearable to think about the property damage, how much it would cost to have it all fixed. And that didn''t even account for the inside of the places. Just like the wind, the snow falling to the ground had been free to fall inside the shops. From her position in the street, Cassandra could clearly see mounds of snow gathered on the insides of the stores. She was more than sure that the second and third floors had it much worse. "Any idea of where we should start with this?" Jules asked, walking over to her. Cassandra had barely noticed that the construction had done so until it spoke, too stupefied with how it all looked. So much destruction with so little reason. The only thing it did was create chaos. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡­ Was that what they wanted out of it? Chaos? Destruction? Something that equalled the damage that had been dealt to them, perhaps. There was a chance that they hadn''t appreciated the number of times where they had been ambushed. Cassandra had personally witnessed other criminals lashing out due to that, not making it impossible that the same had happened here. "I don''t think there is any good place to¡­ " Cassandra began but stopped by herself. Her eyes had turned around, scanning the area yet again. And during that sweep, she saw the one shop that had been talked about so much that very morning. "That one. It¡¯s what caused all this mayhem to begin with." "I didn''t think we normally put all the blame on a shop but whatever. Let¡¯s go give it a chance to hear exactly what we think of it!" Jules said, clearly not being on the same wave length as Cassandra. Not that the woman would have noticed it, being too focused on walking steadily. The ice was still ice, and the road meant to stop it from gathering in the first place was clearly not working as intended. Maybe glass shards really were that much more of a deterrent than anybody could have previously predicted. The giant medical shop was something of a sensation a few months back. Cassandra remembered reading about it in one of the online newspapers while she had tried to dig up information about the city itself. Apparently, it had been quite the boost in popularity for the area as a whole, the brand causing more to visit for shopping. It helped that it was the only shop of its size and kind within a good fifty kilometres. If there was ever a need for medicine not commonly used, folks from other cities were always forced to travel to the one before Cassandra at that very moment. It was the reason that so many had gotten the restorative items that were needed to survive. Going inside the shop, the woman similarly noticed that it had sold all these life necessities set at prices she, as a government-hired specialist, could hardly afford with her acquired budget. Sure, she did put most of her money away into stocks, but that was purely due to necessity. She needed capital in the future, and that could only be gained from investment instead of one-use luxuries. There was a reason she ate health-affecting snacks after all. The healthy ones that tasted good cost quintuple the amount, not even close to fitting within Cassandra''s budget. Just how did normal people afford such medicine? Cassandra knew her salary was above average. meaning that those in actual need of going to a store for a packet of medicine had a much lower income than her. If she had trouble fitting it into her spending, just how was the poor doing it without any need for skipping a single day? The woman tried not to think about it, instead of putting her mind towards the idea that the prices would never again be fulfilled, that people would be unable to ever buy the products from the store again. Nearly every product within twenty meters of any opening had been utterly ruined, with those further inside littered with small glass shards. Cassandra wasn''t surprised if the government would require for it all to be thrown out, the dangers of giving it over to civilians being too high. Glass powder was an extreme weapon, after all, the inhalation of even small quantities being enough for extraordinary damage to the lungs. Picking one up that was close to her, more specifically one that had clearly been touched as of recently, Cassandra looked over what it was. From the image alone, it was clearly an expensive piece of medical technology, likely meant to be used during hiking or any other activity that would make it hard to travel to a hospital quickly. Not that it actually prevented the need for a hospital visit, as the back of it said. The tools within only allowed for temporary stasis of wounds, allowing for rescue vehicles to arrive at the location before any serious effects were begun on the body. That¡¯s¡­ clearly useless to the thieves. Cassandra fully understood why the criminals had not taken it. Going further inside, to the place that the actual sought item was supposed to be, Cassandra could see that there were footsteps in the broken glass. Somebody had been there before them after the glass had broken onto the ground and pretty much everywhere. They had been seeking the much more expensive version of the product that the woman had held only a moment ago. Yet it had never been found. They might have looked for hours on end, yet they wouldn''t have found a single hint of what they would have needed. Cassandra had made sure that Jared knew where they all were, and that he would take every single one of them with him. There wasn''t a chance that they would have been able to retrieve one. That was one point for the police and zero points for the criminals. Nonetheless¡­ looking over at all the destruction that had occurred while the whole thing had been going on, seeing the millions or almost billions in property damage, and seeing all the lives financially ruined, the officer felt like it was closer to calling it a draw. They had won the round, but at what cost? They were meant to minimize destruction, to stop the thieves from destroying the foundations of the economy, yet instead of stealing they had instead simply destroyed out of spite. It would have been easier to bargain with them at this point, yet the woman knew that it would be impossible to make the boss understand that. Their capture was already too important, too many resources having been spent on that goal. They were viable to be fired if they even showed the slightest hint of giving up now. Fired, huh? Cassandra knew she couldn''t risk getting sacked, yet she also knew that she couldn''t let something like what she saw happen to her happen again. Both would ruin all opportunities of her career ever becoming something more than it was. Both would make her lose all ground she had gained through tooth and nail. It would make her be put back into the silent corner of society, made to nestle with the rest of the civilians that she had turned into. A fate worse than death in her eyes, yet that might just have been her overexaggerating. Cassandra had been awake for a long while, and even she was beginning to realise that she was feeling the effects of that fact. "This isn''t the prettiest place in the world, to be honest. Makes me wonder how it has such good reviews and all," Jules said, walking a bit to the side, and looking generally around the place. Cassandra supposed she had simply spent too much time staring at the single empty spot, boring the automation half to death. How humourous and exciting it was to have a construct incapable of waiting around for more than thirty seconds, while the woman gathered her thoughts. The old constructs were more than happy to leave her alone for several minutes, yet the one beside her couldn''t help but jabber on about some inane and completely unnoticed fact about their location. It was something that could be worked with, the woman supposed she could have overlooked it, yet the complete uselessness of the comments made it a severe distraction and nothing else but that. "This place was a centrepiece of the economy around here," Cassandra answered. "It would make sense for the people to treasure it as such." "Well, they aren''t going to be treasuring it anymore at least. This place might glitter like fine booty but it''s less worthless than the ground outside this place. Nobody wants glittering glass-shards, after all." Cassandra supposed that was true, at least. She mentally changed her opinion of the construct verbal antics, before looking back at the empty spot on the shelf. There was much to ponder about. Chapter 352: Scuba
There was so much damage done to the whole place. More than enough to make Cassandra reconsider their chances of getting the thieves. While they had been on the defensive since the moment they had first been interacted with, running at the first sign of an officer being there, the woman was beginning to get increasingly worried about what they could truly do when backed into a corner. When she had gotten the apparent upper hand on one of the thieves, getting them down on the floor, they had been able to incapacitate her for close to a minute of her life, Cassandra being unable to do little more than flab around feebly on the floor. It would have taken little more than a pocket knife to have killed her at that point, yet they clearly hadn''t thought of it back then. Likewise was there a clear potential to do much evil with the help of digital manipulation. From the last ambush, it was clear that their control over machinery was not contained to locked doors and building alarms, the thieves able to control an automation with nothing but a touch to the face. They could have made the automation do anything. They could have made it go against Cassandra, to disable the safety features in place and make it rip her to pieces. They could have made it into a slave, changing its ideas about rank into them being like a god to them. Jules could have been deleted, an empty vessel filling the construct¡¯s place forever. The amount of damage was unimaginable. Yet they hadn''t done anything close to what they could. Why? Was there still some semblance of a heart in their chests? Did they not feel the greed in their minds yet? Cassandra knew just how despicable criminals could be, so she couldn''t mentally figure out why they hadn''t exploited the weakness so apparent in the city¡¯s defences. It would take one terminal to the water systems before the whole area was left in ruin. A single hand on the electrical systems would be able to destroy billions of lamps, computers, and whatever other electrical appliances that were currently installed in the homes of millions. It would take much less than a simple overload to kill everything. How the other officers hadn''t realised just how much of a danger it all was had dumbfounded the woman. These people she worked with were supposed to be some of the oldest veterans in the branch, yet even they hadn''t yet seen the situation for what it was worth. They were fighting with cowardly gods, able to destroy them all the moment they finally decided to take a swap at it. Did they think there were limits to what the thieves could do? Could Jared and Grunwald not truly imagine simple thieves with such massive amounts of power? Cassandra could understand that not truly believing anything of the kind during her first time against them. They had been going after a single type of alarm, one not connected to the online servers at all. Cheap garbage, in other words. It wasn''t out of this world that weakness would be found in such a thing. Cassandra was sure that a skilled team could find a few holes in a matter of a single week. When they began to branch out to other parts of the city, going after stores without the same kind of alarms, having security systems worth more than just a million, the woman grew much more cautious. When they were able to hack Jules, a construct renowned for its inability to be touched by any hackers worldwide, Cassandra began to feel fear. When they destroyed billions worth by compromising every system on a whole street, that fear was put into words. "I don''t know if we can win against these people," Cassandra stated, looking through the items in the backrooms. They had long since left the initial medical store, having gone slowly down the street and methodically checking everything for any stolen objects. Only a few had been found, some being more than a little random. Others were the insides of candy bars, however, so the reasoning behind those was a little more obvious. Even criminals needed calories. "That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve heard you call them people," Jules said from the next shelf over. Cassandra wasn''t the only one during her job, after all, the two splitting the task in half. With the help of external systems, they were both able to check through the items at the same speed, most of their part being simply to look at the shelves themselves and let the internal catalogue do the heavy lifting. Everything was digitized, after all, every piece put out having been noted, with the locations written down to the centimetre. Even a simple push to the side, barely more than a small shove, could be seen in the eyes of documentation. Truly an act of micromanagement. "Anything that¡¯s got you to change your mind about these soulless beings?" Casandra glared through the shelf, looking towards where she guessed the automation she could be. Not that she could look at the piece of junk, the low wall stopping them from having contact visually. Yet¡­ the woman could clearly hear that tone that the construct was putting on. It was making fun of her. "Every criminal is a person, even if they don¡¯t deserve to be called as such," Cassandra answered, giving her views of such thieves quite clearly. Every person who could get behind the system needed to work towards changing it instead of simply throwing it out of the window and resorting to mindless violence and thievery. The proper decor was the only way to success, in the end, inner turmoil doing nothing but creating chaos that wouldn''t be worth a damn. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Yet you call the criminals who did all of this," Jules began, taking a few louder steps around its own side of the shelf. "People. Just¡­ where do you draw the line here? According to my syste4ms, criminals are those who break the law, yet your method of titling is clearly more than a little different from my own." "Criminals commit petty crimes. They steal for their own greed, kill so that they can loot the corpses, and take whatever they fancy. Murder, robbery, extrusion all have the goals of making one richer in some sense," Cassandra said, briefly stopping at a point to check out what her inner systems were classified as an error. A small round box was seated in a spot supposed to be empty, and the system meant to catalogue items was having a hissy-fit about just what it was supposed to be. It was actually taking more resources than what it was supposed to be allowed to do. What a mess. "What¡¯s done today did nothing close to that. The people behind this did not threaten us with anything. They only destroyed what was around them, with no grander purpose to it. If their goal was to enter each store to steal, there would have only been a need to destroy one window for each." "Yet they decided to have a personal vendetta for anything related to glass," Jules commented, crunching some of the shards under its feet for extra feet. Or maybe the construct just needed to step forward some more. With how much of the stuff littered the ground everywhere, it really was hard to know for sure. Not all the stores were decorated with translucent material, luckily stopping all the stores from being fully covered in the decorations, yet the wind had clearly done its best to spread what there was as well as it could. In a few of the corners, there were especially more than a few handfuls ready to pick up. Not that the woman would do so, feeling that her fingers were much prettier without being littered with small wounds. "I don¡¯t think they cared about it specifically. It could be closer to it being the easiest thing to make a mess of," Cassandra stated, overlooking the store. The one they stood in had been one of the stores left out of the mess the most, yet it was still littered with so much waste that it would be easiest to burn the whole thing down than even think about cleaning it. "A broken TV wouldn''t cost as much as this." "Not that they could even find one of those at every store," Juels said with a small laugh. Cassandra tried to reason with herself that the laugh was due to the absurdity of the claim and not because of there being a very dumb hidden joke within. How exactly did it even know of those? Even she had only seen those century-old shows at a whim, yet the construct was having a grand old time quoting them. "Oh! I found one!" Hm? That was surprising. The two hadn''t found anything actually stolen in the last two stores. The first three had shown a good amount of promise, the thieves apparently in love with general stores with how much had been taken off the shelves. Even now, she was unsure of how long a time had been spent on the street, with the number of items that had been thrown off the shelves. Destroying all the windows could have been done in the span of a few minutes, yet taking things off where they sat had to be done manually. It had to have been a solid twenty minutes, at the minimum. "What is it?" Cassandra asked. If any store had to have been without anything found, the woman had expected it to be the one they stood in at that very moment. Just what could ever be found in a store meant for training activities? It wasn''t even that heavily specialized, only selling superficial things for a variety of sports and general activities that required gear. And the place they stood on now just made it make any less sense. "Wetsuits!" Jules said, throwing an example over the shelf, Cassandra almost not catching due to the absurdity of it all. Not a single time in her career had anybody prepared the woman for constructs going around and throwing wetsuits at her. Truly the biggest failure of her education. Holding it for herself, Cassandra was able to confirm that, yes, she had a wetsuit in her hand. Quite a big one at that. It would require either a very big or fat man to ever have a chance of making it as tight as it required. "How many were taken?" Cassandra asked, staring at the suit in front of her. "And what sizes are we talking about?" If it was more than one, the woman could guess they were being used for all the thieves in the group. And if they all needed one each, then it would make sense to estimate how many there were based on how many had been taken from the store. Though, only the gods knew just why anybody had thought they would need them, to begin with. It wasn''t quite the season for anything related to scuba-diving. "Four," the automation answered, making the woman instantly think that her assumption was correct. "Two small ones, one medium one, and one extra-large." The size differences just confirmed it. They were going to use it for something. If the sizes had been identical, Cassandra could have taken it as a single person planning to use them all for themself, yet there clearly were other plans in the works. But¡­ whatever was it for? They were only meant to be used in water, their abilities to keep people warm not that efficient in the open air. Thick clothing was much easier for such things. "Note it down and move on. If they took that from here, they might just have taken more," Cassandra stated. The construct did instantly refute her command, going on for a few minutes about how good it was for already having done it without being asked. The woman just turned it out at the end. There was much the two went through, the store suddenly becoming that much bigger when the idea about there being some smaller items taken as well. Every piece was combed through, every pile pulled apart so every item within could be checked through. The two spent more time inside that single store than what they had spent inside every other store put together. Truly, it was work well spent. And it did yield some form of results. Much further into the store, in another section that handled diving of any kind, the officers found yet another piece of swim-gear that wasn''t supposed to have even been looked at by the thieves. Yet it had been taken anyway. "Four full bottles, everything else included within," Cassandra noted. The thieves had brought out four scuba tanks. From what she knew, such things weighed more than any human should have been comfortable with, and the thieves had taken four of them. If it was only one person, it would have taken several rounds to get. It truly had been easy pickings for them. The woman wasn''t sure what to think about it. "I honestly can¡¯t understand them." "Could be contract work," Jules suggested. "Not the first time somebody hires thieves to get items for a lower price." Cassandra supposed that was an answer. The prices of such things were extremely high nowadays, and thieves were known to auction items that were found as an extra source of revenue. Yet¡­ it just didn''t fit the profile already established. Cassandra couldn''t get herself to believe it. "It¡¯s the only thing that makes sense," Cassandra said, not able to really find any other way to explain it. Having noted down what was taken in the store, they left it to search for the next. There was much more to look through, after all, and there was little chance that it would be quick. Chapter 354: Chatting
Jared didnt have to wonder how he was doing, his body clearly not in the mood to hide his condition. Where was that supposed morphine keeping the pain away? He could very clearly still feel more than a minor ache in his chest every time his lungs expanded to breathe. He was about to call for Cassandra to get back inside so that she could readjust it, but the man noticed one very noticeable fact. His left hand was unblemished. It had a smaller scar on the side, one that very clearly hadn''t been there the last time he looked over. In fact, there had been a wound the last time he looked. A small cut from a piece of glass having lodged itself inside. It had been extremely painful, the man having been forced to force it out while he was driving back to the station just to make sure that he kept himself awake. Yet¡­ it should still have been there. Even with his impressive constitution, it would take more than just a couple of minutes to heal. It would take an hour. Heck, maybe even half a- Day. Half a day had gone by. How had he been so blind? Jared slapped his forehead before cringing at that pain his chest sent to his brain because of it. There was not a single muscle in that area that liked to be flexed. He understood that and would do his best to keep it that way. Reaching out with his mind, Jared connected to the medical bed that he was connected to. That was one feature that had been available to him since the moment that he entered the medical wing, yet the man had been wholly unable to do it before, his mind not getting itself together enough to form coherent thoughts. Even the greatest brain implant needed something to work with, in the end. Just because it reacted to this every whim and desire it still meant that he had to mentally articulate these desires. And he could do that now somehow. Jared supposed that a half-day of rest and healing from a top-line machine did have some benefits to his physical health. He had just wished that it would have been a bit more efficient about it when it came to his ribs. Rolling up his shirt, Jared had to wince a bit at the large blue and black spot that could be seen. Even a car collision would have a hard time making such a mark on him, yet just a few repeated kicks by a metal-man had done the trick just as easily. Was he getting weak or were the criminals getting stronger? While Jared did like to think that it was the latter, there was a good chance it was a mix sided towards the first. How fun that was. Through the machine, Jared inquired about when his ribs were estimated. The answer spat out at him was not something he enjoyed. According to the machine, it would require a full four days in bed without any movement whatsoever to make sure that no complications occurred. It would have been weeks for a normal civilian, yet augmentations once again showed their worth. Jared healed fast, after all. But¡­ he couldn''t stay in bed for three days. Even during his worst time awake the previous day, he had still been more than able to hear the conversation through the door. Jared needed to be going to work the moment he awoke. Asking the machine for the estimate when he was moving about doing work, he got an angry smile in response. Even the unliving things could be witty before they gave an actual answer. Jared did give the thing a small chuckle as he read the new estimate. According to the machine, it would take about two full weeks of smaller movements for him to move, with an action requiring a larger amount of force being able to prolong the healing time with weeks while also being able to cause the man permanent injury that wasn''t possible to get healed. How utterly humorous. Jared almost gave himself a grin, before he tried to stretch any sleepiness out of himself and suffered the well-deserved consequences from it. No larger movement, of course. That included stretching out the chest muscles to an extreme degree. The man thought about doing push-ups instead-but similarly thought that would be a bad idea. Squats, however, did not seem like that bad of an alternative. His back wasn''t the thing at fault, the damage to that part of his body being almost entirely unhurt. The only thing wrong with that was his weaker knees, and those weren''t new at all. As he began the routine movements, however, Jared could feel his body being a bit weaker than normal. His legs took more time to respond to his request, and even then they were not as powerful as the day before. The man would have loved to attribute it to be due to the medicine in his system, but he knew that had been flushed out a while ago. If it still remained, he would have still been asleep. No, it was entirely his own body with that problem. Could it be that he actually felt tired due to excessive use of his muscles? Jared had run a lot in the past days, and even if the bodies from yesterday had weighed nothing, he had still carried close to a hundred of them. It would make sense for his body to have some form of a reaction to that. If there hadn''t been anything, he would have been in another class of strength entirely. And he certainly wouldn''t have been put into the position he was now. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Jared didn''t think too much of it, getting his body finished with the exercises. There was a bit of refreshment from that, his body feeling a lot leaner than it normally did. With that in mind, the man mentally noted to put back on the regiment as routine, the movement doing wonders for getting his head up and working. He could quite clearly feel the increased blood flow inside of him. If only he could have that effect every minute. So much could be done. But, there were other ways to get it from, other than exercise, and Jared was quite happy about himself for having figured out a few of them. Getting his jacket from the chair that sat close to the bed, the man brought out a few small bags with pills inside of them. It was an entirely innocent thing, no matter how much of a stigma those bags had around the world. They were easy for safe-keeping smaller medical supplies, as there was no way that Jared would willingly walk around with a whole box of the things. Not that he could even fit them all in his jacket, the man ordering for them yearly. It was a bit too large for even his big pockets. Jared put those into his trousers¡¯ pockets. Before he put on the jacket, the man brought out the rib protector that he had been so focused on earlier. Cassandra had been so adamant about him wearing it, and there was little reason to refuse her advice. If the machine recommended it, Jared would follow it without question. Though¡­ as he put the thing on, he found it to be a little tighter than he was comfortable with. He wasn''t being stopped from breathing or anything, but he was decently sure that he would be able to see where it sat after only wearing it for a few minutes. Nevertheless, there was little else he could do but silently complain. The thing could bend slightly, which helped him put his shoes on, and what more could he really ask of the thing? It was very thin as well, helping him to wear his uniform on the outside without there being any bulges that needed questioning. Jared was actually very happy about that. With his pants and uniform on perfectly, the man left the medical wing, promising the external system to come back within a few days so he could get a check-up. His condition apparently needed to be monitored more than what his internal diagnostics could handle, making it necessary to have more advanced equipment give him the exact same reading but provided pictures while they were at it. Not that those pictures were pretty or anything. If there had been any abstractness to them, Jared might even have forgiven the system for the time he was wasting on it, yet there was nothing of the sort. It was always the same colour, and he never actually understood half of what was being shown. The station was devoid of any noise. The moment he walked out, Jared had been half-expecting to hear the chatter from halfway down the hall, as stressed officers went about their short breaks, stressing about how much they weren''t enjoying the short time they had to socialise without being looked down at. Yet¡­ there were no mutterings to be heard, no muffled crying to be seen in the corner, and definitely no dirty feet to hit the floor in the last day. The two others were just too adamant about making sure those floors always were as clean as a peach, forcing Jared to actually brush off his booths before he went in. Floors were meant to be stepped on, so just why was it necessary to remove any evidence that the flat thing had been used for its only purpose in life. Just why did they feel the need to hide it to an extreme degree? Jared just thought of it as them being clean-freaks, really. Walking past the smaller break-room, the man looked in just to make sure that nobody was inside, that there hadn''t just been a quiet day around the officer. But¡­ no. There really weren''t any people inside. They had all left many months ago now. And there was no real chance of them coming back again. The only thing keeping the idea alive was the man himself, and even he was beginning to think he just might forget the sight. The emptiness was beginning to invade his mind. Jared moved away from the place quickly after that, his thoughts not needed to go down that route so early in the day. Or well, it was early for him. Around now was¡­ lunch-time for the fine people he still worked with. Actually, now that he thought about it, he had been getting himself an appetite as well. It seemed that a half-day of doing nothing at all really did build up quite the appetite. That was good news, in his mind, Jared looking forward to the foreign delicacies of the kitchen stocked up with world-class condiments. That was a joke, of course. The only world-class about it was the fact that they had ordered globally to make sure everything was the cheapest it could possibly be. Maybe that was why Jared had commented on some things in spite, proposing that they buy a month''s worth of bagels so that they could get a bulk discount. He had actually gotten a message of commendation for that idea, the accountant finding the concept fascinating and ingenious. Jared had found it as a perfect example of him needing to use less sarcasm in his day-to-day life. Even if his ideas about sarcasm brought him away from the idea of fine cuisine, the man did not stop his travels to the cafeteria. It was basically another kitchen, just with a few chairs attached. And the sight within was something that certainly caused a smile on his face. Drinking a cup of tea and coffee inside was his two co-workers, Cassandra and his boss chatting happily. There was another chair at the table. Since the two others hadn''t noticed him yet, Jared moved towards it gleefully. His excitement did not need to be hidden then, the smile was anything but fake. He was truly happy at the sight, his heart feeling but old and invigorated. It was a sight his mind could rest peacefully at. And maybe that wasn''t such a bad thing. Chapter 355: Consequences
"I simply couldn''t believe it. The amount of work needed for such a thing was unprecedented in anything they have done before!" Jared heard Cass say as he sat down. The woman did seem like she had more to say, yet the two others seemed to stop their conversation abruptly the second that they realised the third officer had joined them. "Jared! I see you¡¯ve gotten out of bed. Is everything feeling fine?" Jared had to smile, happy to have somebody worrying about him in any capacity. Looking at the time, he had indeed overslept by a few minutes or so. Maybe half an hour, if one really needed to be specific about it, but the man was sure nobody wanted to be that precise. "I have a small ache in my chest and shoulder, but it¡¯s not the worst thing that¡¯s happened to me. I¡¯ll walk it off soon enough," Jared said, as he got himself seated comfortably. He regretted that a small bit, instantly walking to rise from his chair again so he could get himself something to eat. Yet it took no more than a glance at the kitchen counter before his boss was up and moving to get him something to eat. That was most certainly not okay. "You don''t have to bring me anything, boss. I can do it myself!" Casandra got up a bit too quickly at that point, trying to push himself faster by putting pressure on the top of the chair. That made his chest tense to provide the strength, making him likewise cringe and falter in his movement. That then caused Cass to hurry over and stop Jared from falling, making it so that all three had risen from their seats all due to one glance at a counter. Just how powerful had the man become during his time spent asleep? Making sure that the others knew of his good health, even if there were a good few hiccups, Jared was able to make his boss understand his full ability to make his own food. Cass actually supported him in that aspect, insisting that he makes tea for all of them to show off just healthy he was. Jared had not fully understood the need to prove it since they had all accepted ti as fact before, yet there had been nothing really against it either way. That ended up with the man bringing over a large kettle full of hot water mixed with a few bags of his special blend. Jared was quite the master at the art of brewing if he was so humble about it. A decade spent making it himself had caused some amount of skill in it. And it was a very necessary skill either way. Most teas were just much too weak for the man¡¯s taste, Jared not able to treasure what he could only see as some dirty water. That was why he had originally made his own, mixing up premade bags into one large bag. It had been an expensive endeavour, positively tripling the costs of his tea-brewing, but it had created a taste filling and powerful enough to leave him wanting more and more. Even more so when he mixed an energy pill or two into it. The liquid just made it so easy to dissolve it all. In a way, it was one of his many energy drinks, able to keep him up days in a row. Not that they truly did it so much nowadays, yet it was clear that the drink would be great to have soon. The three were quiet for a minute or two. Jared enjoyed his tea during that peace and quiet, yet even his ordinary brew couldn''t do much to hold up the power of silence in a group. He had heard such heated voices only a few minutes before, the energy of it flowing right over to his body because of it. That energy needed to be brought back again, and Jared would go after it with all his power. "Has there been any updates while I was asleep?" Jared asked, trying to hone in on just what they had been talking about before he came into the room. From the wording alone, it was clear that Cass had been talking about something important. "I heard something about work before, so I guess something happened?" Their faces did not light up at that. Neither actually moved their faces too much at his question. Yet the two did move a little back in their chairs at it as if they wanted to be distanced from the world entirely. Jared couldn''t get himself to really note the last detail, instead of focusing on the humour of the two being synced in their movements. It wasn''t every day he saw such a display. "Technically, it all happened while you were still awake," Cassandra said, sipping at her newly brewed tea. Not the old one, of course. The woman had poured that one in the sink, much to the dismay of the two around her. Jared could still not fathom how one would ever think about wasting such a precious beverage. "What happened while I was still awake then?" Jared asked, more than a little curious. Had they found another batch of bodies? It wouldn''t be the most surprising thing in the world. The man actually still needed to get out into the wilderness and load on the corpses from his most recent fight. He couldn''t really imagine Cass doing that, and neither was his boss able to, the man needing to stay within the station and take calls constantly. The two others looked at each other for a moment, before his boss sighed softly. Jared was just growing more and more curious by the minute, not liking the fact that the information was held just out of his reach. The anticipation truly was killing him. His broken ribs had nothing on what was happening at the current time. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "A large line of stores was broken into without our notice," Officer Grunwald, the most composed man in the world, said, clearly not happy with what had just come out of his own mouth. Yet that reaction wasn''t something Jared could really focus too much on, the man waiting for the other to drop. A line of stores had been broken into without their notice and¡­? What else? Where was the other end of the punchline? Where was he supposed to gasp in shock and horror? "And? Did they steal some very valuable items?" Jared asked, clearly not understanding just what was so severe about this. It wasn''t the first time they had broken into a store. Doing more than one in a single night was perhaps a little surprising, yet it wasn''t truly that groundbreaking. "Not especially expensive. They were limited by what they could carry back to their base of operations," Cass said, looking like she was trying to remember some specific numbers before just giving up on it entirely. "While it was still over fifty thousand dollars, it wasn''t close to a hundred thousand." Okay¡­ quite the sum but still not enough for any major controversy. Some stores had expensive but small items. Getting a handful of gold rings was easy enough, and with enough pockets, one could become a millionaire due to technicalities. "Were there any casualties then? Somebody who walked in on them at the wrong time?" Jared questioned, still trying to figure out just why their faces were so grim. Civilians being silenced was a good guess on his part. People needed to be kept quiet while operations were still ongoing, and that was quite hard when the people could call the police without moving a single finger. "There were no casualties. The scene itself was only found by civilians earlier this morning," Cass stated, with no hesitance in her voice this time. That fact seemed very important somehow. For some reason, the fact that nobody had been close to the place in such a long while did make it an uncommon occurrence. Which did make some amount of sense. Jared could hardly remember a time where they took less than a few minutes to get there. Having not noticed it for over a day in a row must have been quite the- "How did we not notice that they broke into the place?" Jared suddenly asked, his brain finally getting up from whatever dumb hole it had fallen into. The others hardened their faces at the man¡¯s sudden question, the two knowing that it would come at some point. "We equipped every store with the stuff more than a few days ago. Why didn''t our external alarms trigger the moment they shut the store¡¯s alarms down?" "That¡¯s the problem we¡¯ve been trying to figure out since the start," Cass said, sighing just as heavily as Grunawls had done moments ago. They were clearly not happy about it either. "But¡­ we don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to get an answer better than just ¡®because they somehow can.¡¯ They have learned our tricks and how to circumvent them. There¡¯s nothing we can truly do about it." Why did Jared even get out of bed, when his body craved so much that his already tired muscles rested for a few more weeks. This was what he was going to be doing, trying to figure out the impossible while still acting like everything was just dandy? This was hell and he had only just realised it now. Truly, he was the best officer there was on the entire force, being blind as a bat, and deafer than an old dog. "So, we basically have to patrol the city now?" Jared asked, trying to figure out ways to counter the new inclusion. Their automatic alarms didn''t work anymore, and it would hardly become better if they put another layer on top of it. The thieves knew the trick, and it wasn''t like they could actually hide what they were doing that well. "The thieves might be able to disable the alarms on each store, but manual monitoring would make it possible to catch them when timed right?" "The scale makes it impossible," Officer Grunwald started with a shake of his head. "If we only had to watch the outskirts, it would be possible to circle the area in a few minutes'' time. Yet, it would be impossible for a single person to route through every street in the entire city, and we can¡¯t afford to all be out doing this." "Then what else can we do? Just give up on catching them?" Jared asked, the man¡¯s mind unable to come up with anything else. They could in technicality try to make more primitive traps at every store and hope the thieves would fall for it, but the time to set it all up would be in the count of months. The criminals would have left the city by that point, no matter what, with their pockets filled up to the brim. Cass and his boss stared at him, Jared not liking what they were doing. He meant it was a joke, yet the look in their eyes was making it clear that it was one of the ideas that had been discussed prior to him joining the conversation. They had fallen to such desperate measures already? Jared wasn''t sure whether to laugh at the absurdness or cry at the fact that he was involved with it directly. "At the current time, we might have to only do our best to clean up after them," Cass said, not sounding like she enjoyed it either. "The consequences of trying to stop them outweigh everything they could possibly steal. If we-" "Wait just a minute there," Jared said, holding up a hand to stop her in her tracks. Something didn''t make sense. "What consequences have we had due to us trying to stop them?" They just continued to make their faces grimmer and grimmer, and Jared was liking that fact less and less. Their eyes would pop out soon enough, with all the pressure being felt in the room. He felt choked out of his mind just at the thought of having to wait another second. "... They have shown off their dislike towards windows during their last line of plundering," Cass said. Jared¡¯s boss had the audacity to actually chuckle a little at that. It was the kind of laugh that a man on death row would make before he was asked which way he wanted to die. "In what way?" Jared asked, while also trying to figure out just what kind of reason there could have been for it. Perhaps it was due to their previous interactions with store windows. The man could very clearly remember throwing one of the thieves through one of those windows. Jared was still a little surprised over the fact that the criminal had been able to run only moments after the fact. Yet could that bout with the panes have been the reason for the dislike? He thought it just might have been that. "Jared, they destroyed every single piece of glass on an entire street." ¡­ huh. Jared leaned back in his chair even more than before, realising just how serious things were becoming. Or maybe that wasn''t the best kind of wording he could have done. It had already been serious before he even fell asleep. They just hadn''t realised the consequences yet. Yet they most definitely were getting a general idea just about now. Chapter 356: Delegated
"From our estimates, the destroyed panes of glass themselves number in the realm of ten thousand having been destroyed. Due to the quality of each of the glass panes being in higher quality, it comes out with an average price of circa forty thousand for each piece. Though, it should be factored in that some of the glass panes were of extreme size, growing the average two-fold by themself. When the top one per cent is taken out of the equation, the average is closer to one thousand dollars per glass pane." Jared had to put his elbows on the table, as his head tried to make the numbers heard make sense to him. There were only about fifty stores that had been broken into. While, yes, each had been equipped with multiple floors, that still amounted to each store having an insane amount of glass inside. Truly, there couldn''t have been a worse street chosen by the thieves. The general design just had to have been about glassware. "Forty fucking million dollars on pure glass," Jared stated, unable to truly figure out how a set of thieves had created so much damage. According to what had been said before, Cassandra estimated it to have all been done within a span of ten minutes. Ten full minutes had been spent making forty million dollars worth of damage. "I can assure you that the glass would have been much cheaper if they were pure. However, all of the destroyed glass was of top-quality, and had been mixed with several polymers to create one of the most durable materials known to man," Cass said, waiting a few seconds so that Jared could get it into his head. How thoughtful of- "Also, it is four hundred million dollars in damages. You missed a zero in your calculations." Oh god, he felt the need to vomit. Not literally, of course. Jared just felt like that was the only real response he could give without seeming like he was underestimating the situation. It was well and truly screwed up. In his entire career, there hadn''t been a single time where he even had seen damage worth a hundredth of that. This was a situation worthy of the record books. When it got out to the news, it would be the scandal of the decade. The current war had nothing on this. People¡¯s money was truly being wasted here. Not that the people were going to be paying for it. That job was for the- "The insurance!" Jared said, silently sitting up with his back completely straight. "Please tell me that the insurance company has agreed to do overall coverage instead of an indexed one." "There is not a single one of the insurance companies that have agreed to do so," Cass answered with the kind of smile that only showed pain through the teeth. She hated it just as much as him. "I contacted them all an hour ago. Each of them wants a full report on the matter, along with every single item involved in the case, with each having a personalized description of their location, how they have been touched by the criminals, how they have been handled by us, what kind of damage done on them, and about ten other things we can¡¯t automatically copy over from other pieces of data. There are over fifty thousand individual items, and each company wants a detailed explanation of each of them in their own personalized format." Jared well and truly wished for death. His idea of being done with the hard work was a fever dream by now. There would never be an end to the current situation. The owners were likely breathing down their necks, demanding that the work would be completed by the end of the week. Or maybe they even wanted it by this afternoon. He didn''t dare ask, not wanting his fears confirmed about it. "I only remember hearing about ten thousand glass panes being destroyed," Jared decided to point out, even if he knew he would regret hearing the explanation. "What are the forty thousand other items?" "General goods from every store there is. With the windows broken, snow and glass shards have been freely able to come inside. It turns out that a lot of valuable items cant handle snow melting on top of it, causing a complete inability to sell anything. Oh, and the actual count might be higher. We aren''t sure if the one¡¯s deeper inside the storage areas are counted as something damaged. If so, we will be looking at an item count nearing seventy thousand instead." "I see you have done your work well," Jared said before laying his head on the table, stress getting the better of his back muscles. He didn''t want to listen to more, yet he knew that ignorance would only stress him out more than he could ever imagine. "How long did this take you to figure out?" Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "About seven full hours of computing without rest," Cass answered nonchalantly. Maybe Jared¡¯s display of reverence helped the mood slightly. "It was much shorter than expected, to be honest." Seven hours of work wasn''t seen as something truly long anymore. Just from that, Jared knew that his life would be shortened by a decade or two, his body never truly destined to ever recover from the physical and mental damage that would come from the soon-to-be fest of paperwork. And he had to write reports about it all as well. How long would it take to do? If he could write out a report for one item each minute and file that report in the next minute, it would take two full minutes for each item. If Jared never stopped this process, instantly starting the next report each time he finished the last one, he would be able to have done it all within¡­ three months. Three full months of not doing anything but filing in reports, never sleeping, eating, or even being distracted. He wouldn''t be able to do that. His mind would implode before the first hour would be over. It was an impossible estimate. The work alone would cause him to be promoted. That¡¯s how Jared felt it would be, the man likely being deserving some commendations after doing it all. The sheer endurance of doing something of that size was something that few officers had ever had the need to do. Maybe Jared could get his name into the record books as well, known as the man with the record of going down with chronic stress the fastest. It was time to speed-run forced retirement, as one might call it. Well¡­ with the pills he would need to take, there was certainly a chance of breaking that record. "When are we supposed to start the process up?" Jared asked, the man having successfully defeated himself purely through a negative line of thoughts. His psyche had been broken, and he was ready to be the work slave that nature had always demanded him to be. Maybe he could get a bonus later in the year for the things he would need to do. Grunwald might even allow him to have the circus-sprinkled doughnuts next Tuesday. The jelly ones had always been out of his taste range. "I would have preferred if we could wait until this whole ordeal was done with, but it is obvious that the higher-ups would not commend us for doing so," Officer Grunwald said, not sounding happy about that fact. "We have already been sent our notice about our names being used in future articles. They are planning on running a full story on this whole ordeal, no matter what the government does. Our actions will be watched with a close eye for the next many months. Be ready for orders that surround the capture of the thieves, by the way. They will likely not have appreciated our failure up until now." Cassandra and Jared actually matched their timing on groaning at that moment, both of them disliking that fact so much. Messages from the outside would have to be turned off permanently now, else the whole team would be flooded with angry comments, death threats, and whatever else the current generation felt was okay to send to people just trying to do their best. It almost made the young man want to quit. Not that it would do any difference, his name being used no matter what he would do. "I am guessing that they¡¯re coming out here to do it live?" Cass inquired, making Jared pick up on a few possibilities. "They indeed are. And¡­ They have been asking us for an interview. They want some kind of statement from us, and they would apparently love it if we could do it live as well," Grunwald said, another sigh coming out on that note. "It is clear that whoever does it will have the most hate towards them. Since the two of you actually have a chance of getting promoted within the next ten years, I believe I should be the one to take the hit here. Any objections with that plan?" Neither of the two younger ones spoke a word, both of them not wanting to be in the spotlight. However, it might just have been for very different reasons entirely. Jared didn''t want to be shown off live, for fear that he might say the wrong thing and mess it up even worse. Cass¡­ Jared wasn''t actually sure why Cassandra would want to be in the spotlight. Maybe she was camera-shy? He thought about asking her later. Not now, though. There were still other things to get nailed down. "Good to hear," Grunwald said. "Since they will be coming within a day, I think we should put out our priorities surrounding that. First, we need to do the last bit of clean-up related to the incident we had yesterday. Cass, I would put that task over to you, yet I believe that you would actually be more efficient in overseeing the cleaning of the street where the robberies occurred. We need to have removed the glass shards so that the ice can be melted by the road¡¯s internal systems. The equipment for the task is over at another site, but I am sure you can handle that. Any comments on that?" "I have none, sir," Cass answered. Grunwald nodded before turning over to Jared. "Jared. You will be doing the task of cleaning up the last bits from the clearing. I also need you to check that no more traps were set up, while also checking out a few locations that I will note down for you in a few minutes. Do you both understand?" The two nodded, nothing needing to be questioned. Jared was a bit confused by the fact that Grunwald simply couldn''t inform him what locations he needed to visit instantly, yet he just carried on as if that was normal. Perhaps it was a sore spot for Cass still, making them need to keep it on the down-low. Now that Jared thought about it, he hadn''t actually asked how the woman was doing yet. They had been so preoccupied with other things that the two hadn''t actually talked casually for a while. Jared was sure to fix that within the hour. First, however, breakfast needed to be finished. This time, it was done in silence, everything that could have been said already said. Any more added would only bring further tasks, and nobody really wanted that. Which was why Jared would do his damn best to enjoy his tea. It really was the greatest thing he could have ever asked for. Chapter 357: Crushed
With the rest of the time spent in relative silence, Jared couldn''t say there was anything truly notable about it. One by one, they all left the cafeteria. His boss had his duties to relay the news to the higher-ups while also beginning on that monstrosity of paperwork needing to be done, while Cass had to clean up an entire street filled with glass shards and ice. That last one had just been a bit too much for the man. Jared was hardly able to believe what he had been told until he saw the pictures. That damned street was positively in ruins, everything on the outside having been damaged in some form or another. The road was cracked in a few places under the ice, the place clearly not meant to handle colds for longer periods of time, while the stores themselves matched the description of abandoned. Jared himself had driven down that same road not a week before, making it hard to really grasp how it had become so broken in so little time. Yet he needed to accept that fact and move on. He had his own job to do, his boss wanting him to do his own kind of cleaning. Corpses needed to be taken care of, the flesh-bags likely to have attracted some kind of rot while lying out in the open. Jared was not going to have a great time cleaning that up by hand, yet he knew that it was the only thing he could really do. And there were also those other places he needed to get to. Grunwald hadn''t been too specific on just what it was. Jared half-suspected the older man just didn''t know to really call it. One of the places was one of the illegally-built houses, where apparently there were a whole bunch of electronics that needed to be gathered. They were quite valuable if the man¡¯s words were to be believed. Jared didn''t care too much about that, only wondering how he was going to transport it all without issues. Electronics were meant to be separated, and the number of things there were would make it hard to fit it all within the car reasonably. The man supposed he would have to deal with that when the time came for it. There was still the other and final goal he needed to clean up. It was also the reason that he needed to wear a mask while inside the forest apparently. According to his boss, it was some kind of biological weapon shaped like an animal while also having human traits. Quite a peculiar way to describe it, yet Jared just accepted it at face value. What could he really have said? Jared just took the coordinates and did his best to memorize the routes over there. Jared was the last one to leave the cafeteria, walking out with long steps and a fierce gaze. He had a task and he would complete it. Yet, if he wanted to uphold the restriction put upon, of which he was warning against doing any heavy lifting of any kind, he would need assistance. Luck was on his side when it came to him. The man had one assistant perfect for the job. And from what had been heard, it should have been more than ready to assist him at the current time, the automation having gotten time to heal as well. ¡®Are you ready to head out?¡¯ Jared sent to the construct he called his partner. It was the very same one that had taken multiple bullets to the head only a day before, making the man wonder just how it looked. Automations did not get scars, right? But they still had some capabilities surrounding repairing, so how did that work exactly? Did it just close up perfectly or something? Jared had never actually thought about it. Maybe that was due to the man not having cared until that very moment. Or, okay, he had cared the day before, during the few minutes of thoughts he had gotten before being put under. Not like those minutes could have counted for anything, the man not having been of the sane kind of mind during that time. ¡®I have been ready to leave for thirty-three minutes,¡¯ the automation near-instantly answered. Jared momentarily thought of the answer as passive-aggressive but shook that thought out of his head as fast as possible. Robots were not sarcastic. Then again, it was a good thing he wouldn''t have to go down in the basement and get it off the hooks. Jared remembered his one and only time down there, helping decide where the different pieces of gear needed to be placed. It was fun to think of it all like that. The automations were a fixture in the force, yet the man had been the one to decide where they needed to sit. Jared was the reason that they were the place they were since he had been the one with the final word on it. Yet even if he outweighed them in rank and seniority, he would be the first to leave and the lowest one on the ladder at that point. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡­ Where was it? Where was the anger at that statement? Jared could have sworn he had felt something brewing within his heart, some desire to go over and chokeslam the automation he knew into a wall. Yet¡­ that anger disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced with an indifferent personality. He had no need to be violent against those who would replace him within the next couple of years. Had he¡­ had Jared accepted that fact? Had the man accepted that he wouldn''t be where he was forever? No, that didn''t make sense. Jared was the prideful one, unable to accept change, right? He was supposed to remain steadfast in his opinion, to hate without any difference in attitude no matter how much time passed, no matter what was done for him through his time working beside the constructs. Right. He could slap the thing and then his anger would surely return. Jared just needed to get close. It would likewise help him see if he could even do that much, with how much his chest hurt when he took in a deep breath. Did punching something equal the same thing as lifting something heavy? It was two opposite actions, yet there was a chance it used the same muscles. Jared wasn''t sure, never having much interest in biology to begin with. Nearly all his knowledge about the subject had been scrubbed from his mind a long time ago. Deadset on his truly genius plan, Jared walked outside, ready to meet the automation as fast as he could. The thing would still need to get out from its slumber down in the basement, though, so he could just ready the car while he was at it. Not that he could actually take the same car as the one he had driven the day before. That was positively impossible, Jared able to see the damage to it the moment he stepped out of the building. How had he not noticed how beat up it had become? Had darkness and adrenaline really altered his view of the world to such a high degree that he could distinguish a beautiful, polished sheen with what could only be called dirt-filled garbage¡­ yeah, it totally had. Jared wiped at his eyes a bit, yet he couldn''t see anything different from what he saw a second before. The car was totalled, and there was nothing else that could be said about it without it being one massive lie. The windows not completely broken had been hit in the cross-fire, cracks running up through them. And even if he had successfully removed the wire that had been previously stock on the front wheels, the damage created by it was still very clear to the eyes. It had torn a straight series of holes into the hull, for hell¡¯s sake. It would take more than a normal mechanic could muster for any part of that vehicle to be repaired. Would Jared really have to part with it so soon? The man had driven that fabulous thing since his first day on the job, his tutor at the time showing off the city in that car. It had been with him through trial and error, always able to get up one more time. There had been close calls before, moments where Jared had been forced to fight so that it could be repaired in the end, yet the man was beginning to think even the most desperate person would reject the notion of the car ever coming back to its full glory. Repairing it would entail removing so much of it that it would be likened to an entirely new car. How tragic a tale it was, yet it wasn''t one that was shed tears over. Jared had to find another car since that one had been destroyed, and the man was having an absolutely hard time trying to pick one of them. They all looked the same to him, all of them not striking out like the old one. There was no fashion sense, no feeling of power from them. The acceleration was awful. Jared knew that just by looking at the exterior design alone. Nobody would make a car that ugly drive fast. Two full minutes were spent looking over the vehicles, yet Jared had been unable to really make a decision about anything. It was all so hard to get through his head, the idea of picking a new car so impossible for him to really grasp. The other one had been with him for so long that he hadn''t actually tried to pick a car in all his life. The old one had been given to him as a gift, made to be his own one. Now that he thought about it, Jared had actually never picked one before. Maybe that was why it was so damned hard to do it on the spot. He had no prior training for this? Yet again, the academy had failed him, not preparing the man for the hardest challenge of all. In fact, Jared should have already failed at that point. He was supposed to be ready with the car the moment that the automation had stepped outside, yet¡­ why had it not stepped outside yet. Looking over the entrance, there was no automation to see. But time had already passed so much, even the slowest route possibly taken was already long overdue. How hadn''t it gotten over to him yet? ¡®Are you sure that you were ready to go?¡§ Jared questioned. If the thing was still without proper form and mind, he would need to go down in the basement and assess the situation for himself. Cass had promised it would be ready when he woke up, yet if there was the slightest chance of there still being an error of some kind, the man would gladly stop all current operations to make sure that it- ¡®I have been ready for thirty-six minutes now. May I ask why you have not stepped into the vehicle yet?¡¯ the automation sent back to him. The words¡­. were not expected. What vehicle? Jared stood by all the cars that the station had in total, and none of them was missing. How could it be in a vehicle without him¡­ Looking down the road, Jared could see the station''s larger transport vehicles with the light on. The windows on it were darkened, making it impossible to see inside, yet it was very clear that it wasn''t empty in there. And since Cassandra and his boss were still inside the station, getting ready for the tasks ahead, there was only one possible entity inside. Stomping his feet, he got over there in a hurry. In response to this, the door by the driver''s seat opened up, the automation going outside the car to do¡­ something. From the fact that the keys were in his hands, outstretched towards him, Jared guessed it was intended to give it to him. Meanwhile, Jared was going to give it a piece of his mind. He stepped up closer to it, the automation not moving at all. Jared was less than two meters away when he raised his arms to strike hard and¡­ Jared hugged the construct as if his life depended on it. If it was a human, the automation would have likely been crushed by the action. Instead, it hesitantly hugged the man back after a few seconds. Jared didn''t mind that at all. Chapter 358: Partners
Well¡­ when that was over and done with, both parties agreeing that nothing would ever be said to anybody, the two partners went back to the transport vehicle. The automation finally did hand the man the keys, Jared getting into the driver''s seat because of it. The construct sat at his side, just where it had been for so many days now. The vehicle was different, just as he had known it would be. The thing was actually much larger than the car, even Jared being able to stand up fully inside it. He supposed such a thing was needed when there was the title of it being a ¡®transport¡¯ vehicle. It had to be able to transport something, after all, and that was usually with the unspoken rule of being more than a simple car could manage. How many full-grown could they fit into the back? Giving the rear-view mirror a look, Jared had to estimate it would be five on each side, totalling a full count of ten. However, the man was sure he would be able to double that, given that he would be allowed to stack them on top of each other. Add that they were in body bags. That last part was likely the most important detail. Jared was not going to be known for playing Jenga with live humans. Though, that did remind him of something¡­ "Did you bring body bags?" Jared asked. He hadn''t thought of it, when the automation had reported to him that it had been ready to leave, just assuming that everything had already been prepared. Yet, the construct had not actually been told of what they would be doing, making it hard to believe that it would bring specialized equipment. Yes, body bags were not normally in the top-tier of expensive equipment, but morale efficiency had deemed it an item not normally brought along during patrols. So, if they hadn''t actually brought some with them, Jared knew it would be best to turn around instantly. It wouldn''t be fun to have old corpses in the bag without them being in an air-sealed bag. He had tried that once before and he would undoubtedly never try it again. "I have brought them, yes," the automation steadily answered, making Jared stop worrying about it instantly. How good a partner he was with, able to prepare without being asked. If he had gotten that kind of work ethic back in the day, Jared was sure some of them wouldn''t have been let go of the opportunity allowed for it. "However, I took the risk of only bringing a hundred. It was assumed that it wouldn''t be a higher body count than this." "No need to worry," Jared instantly said, before furring his brows. Normally, he would have made some cutting reply, going on the border of just shouting at the thing for being a waste of time. "I am sure we¡¯ll only need two in total." ¡­ Jared supposed he just didn''t have it in him anymore. Not that he minded the change or anything. It was just¡­ so different. Yet he knew that it needed to have happened at some point, so he wasn''t really that annoyed about it. The change was impossible to stop after all. Silence captured the vehicle within an instant. Jared had previously been so focused on making sure that such silence would remain normally, shouting at the construct to shut up every time it opened its mind. Yet now¡­ now he wished it would say something, his mind guilty of what he had done. Just what was this? The man pondered that question heavily, as the silence did not escape no matter how hard he wanted it to happen. It continued to suffocate him, even as they left the outskirts of the city, driving right into the forest roads. In it, they slowed down to a near-crawl, safety regulations stopping them from driving over ten kilometres an hour. With the chance of more traps set up, they needed to make sure they weren''t getting close to wires. There were also other kinds of traps, however. That included ones that wouldn''t be possible to check out with the human eye. Nor would some of them be easily detected through the automation¡¯s gaze, making it a situation that was hard to truly get out of unscathed. Well¡­ that is, if one wasn''t equipped with a top-tier police vehicle. Jared was happy to find that the newer models hadn''t skipped out on features, going so far so as to actually have upgraded versions of tools he had used for so long. While it was extremely specialised to only a few kinds of traps, the car was able to detect light-based tripwires, blockage-based trip wires, and so many other kinds of traps like that. And the best of all was the fact that it stopped them from having to get out of the car, each possible trap laid it being looked over through three different detectors. That is if Jared wanted to call himself a detector. The title was a little demeaning, sure, but it was technically exactly what he was doing. Going down slowly, constantly surveying the area in front of him, ready to press on the brakes the moment that anything seemed off. That did sound a lot like a detector, the only difference being that he wouldn''t beep uncontrollably. Even the most annoying toasters had a hard time doing that nowadays. Or maybe they all did it normally, yet stopped whenever Jared got within a hundred meters of their location. The first one had learned its place when it scared the man while he was making toast. His boss was still not letting him near that one. Jared fully understood why that was. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. And it wasn''t really like he was the only officer doing it. While Jared was the one holding the controls of the vehicle, able to slow down and accelerate freely, it was the construct beside him controlling the car¡¯s detectors. The man had futilely tried to work out its mechanics, yet had failed so utterly and for so long that the automation beside him had suggested that it would be in control of it. That action must have taken a lot of work on its part. Maybe it was the slowness that Jared had displayed that finally made it talk back then. The man hadn''t really cared, just happy to hear its voice again, and then being very weirded out by his own happiness relating to that. Yet the construct had still taken control, putting inputs onto the car with no delay at it. The construct was a true master at the technical work, likely having been implanted with the knowledge instantly. Jared did feel a bit of jealousy relating to that. Due to the knowledge, of course. Nothing else. Nothing at all. They continued down the road at that steady pace for a good thirty minutes. The two needed to get a good stretch into the forest, after all. The first real task of the day was to get over to the site they had been attacked at the day before and make sure that everything could be cleaned up easily. Bullet casings needed to be picked up, rifles needed to be disabled, and anything explosive needed to be dealt with so no wanna-be treasure hunted would accidentally dig its shovel into the things. It had only taken one accident for the world to be on their asses about that. It wasn''t Jared¡¯s fault that the idiot had found it funny to stick it so close to his- "I recommend you go back to the speed we have been on previously." the automation suddenly said, bringing Jared out of his daydreaming. What had he even been thinking about exactly? The sudden awareness of his surroundings again made it hard to really focus, and the voice was more than just- "No. I am talking about slowing down. Accelerating more is the opposite of what I recommend. ¡­ Oh, right. Letting go of the speeder, Jared witnessed the vehicle returning to its previous speed. It seemed he had been in the midst of causing both their deaths, his foot having been growing heavier than he wanted it to be. This mistake was in his hands alone. The man had truly been too distracted by other things. "Sorry. My mind suddenly stopped working," Jared apologized, the man not sure what he was really doing. Doing a quick sweep of the area in front of the car, the man was happy to find that they weren''t extremely close to any traps he was meant to see. Not that it would be missed when he wasn''t looking or anything, the automation was likely able to see them as well, bordering on being much better than him on that front. "Not sure how that happened, but I¡¯m back in the game now." "If you need us to take a break, there is nothing stopping us from doing that," the automation reminded him. "I have been warned that damages to your lungs might have caused constant minor pain, with the effect of a reduced mental capacity. There is no need to risk physical health for the sake of a task that can be delayed for later today." ¡­ How awfully kind the construct was, making sure that he was alright. It was almost like he was back again, being looked at as the new recruit with aspirations, being told by every single person to take a break every now and then. Jared had at some point turned into the person who would tell others to rest, yet he had now suddenly been thrown back to that same original place. However, he couldn''t say he minded that fact one bit. "It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll just need to do it right. Stopping will only make me distracted. Getting it done now will allow us to do the other tasks faster as well," Jared said, waving away any of the construct¡¯s concerns. Sympathy was great yet it needn''t hamper their work ethic. They were being trusted to complete a certain list of tasks by the end of the day, and Jared wouldn''t risk delaying it due to something as simple as his physical health. He had taken a few punches before, and he could take a few more without any real problems. "I find such an observation hard to believe," the automation commented. It wasn''t buying his reason for wanting to continue. That was fine. It wasn''t going to get the actual reason anyway. Jared would be too embarrassed by it. "Everybody has some things they can¡¯t believe. You must be happy it''s something as easy as this," Jared commented right back, his eyes not looking at the construct but at the road ahead. There were so many parts that needed to be looked through, even if the main parts of the road were the most important. A wire in the trees would do little to actually stop the car, after all. Even if he wasn''t looking at it, however, he could still see it turning its head to look at him. The automation was staring at him instantly, seemingly ready to call him out on his bullshit and make him sit on his ass in the grass while having a stern talking to him. Because that¡¯s what partners did sometimes, stopping the other from overworking due to loyalty. Yet it didn''t say anything in the end, going back to its own task after only a second or two. Jared wasn''t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at himself for that¡­ nevermind, he was very disappointed in himself for thinking about that. Had he lost fifteen years of his mental health without realising it? If so, he really needed to grow old again quickly, for he wasn''t sure about what to really do without it. They continued without any issues, driving kilometre after kilometre. Nothing was really seen, except for a few conspicuous branches that made them stop a few times. Nothing actually came out of it, though, the tree-growth just being weird most of the time. Or it was signs of former traps that the automation had previously disabled. With how many they saw of those disabled traps, Jared actually ended up commenting about how much of a work ethic it had, saying he was kinda proud of it for that. It had not actually been meant to be said out loud, though, making it all the hard to look the thing in the eye when it had responded with thanks. Jared accepted the idea of sitting in the grass for a few minutes after that. Chapter 359: Felony
His side was hurting more than it likely should have. Jared did realise that after a while, the hard throbbing on his chest being more than he could reasonably bear. The man thought about removing his rib protector, thinking that it would at least relieve some of the pressure on him. Yet he luckily didn''t, not wanting to incur the wrath of Cass. That woman had something in her brain that just made it impossible to really defy her orders, even if she bordered on almost doing so, so many times. Sitting in the grass was a comfortable thing, yet Jared did get up from the sweet and nice ground way earlier than he really wanted to. The man did wait for close to ten minutes before doing so, with the automation in the car telling him it would be all right to wait ten minutes more, yet Jared just couldn''t get himself to stay down on the ground. There was too much to do that day, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour trying to reason with himself on just how much of a waste of space he was for slacking off during his working hours. He was getting paid for every minute spent out there, and he was choosing to spend them relaxing? Truly a shame to the work he was supposed to be proud of. As he stepped into the car and started it up again, however, the man did begin realising just how much of a hypocrite he was for thinking things like that. He had been on the other end so many times throughout his career, forcing other recruits down on their asses so he could give them the time they really needed to relax. He had pushed deadlines, had faced off against the higher-ups, and had taken the consequences from so many failed projects, all so that those below him could get the rest they needed so that they wouldn''t burn out from stress before they had even truly begun their adventure as officers. Maybe it was precisely because he had never truly been on the other end for long that made him this way. Jared had gotten so good at seeing when another needed rest, yet never had there been a moment where he looked at himself. He had never taken a minute of rest, always doing his best to make his underlings live without extreme stress for eternity. But¡­ there weren''t any underlings now. Nobody worked under him, nobody needed his protection. He was the only human on tasks, the only one who would ever need to rest. And even if Jared couldn''t see it, the automation beside him was more than ready to tell him to step down. Sure, it took a while for its mind to be settled on that fact, yet the construct had been adamant that he needed to rest. It hadn''t even taken a no for an answer. There had actually been a proposal about making the chief be put on the case instead of him, letting Jared rest in bed for the next few days. The automation had brought up the medical equipment documents and had gone through the various documents spit out after his check-up. On that, it had found his recommended healing process, immediately beginning to question why it wasn''t being followed to the letter. It actually wasn''t even being followed in general. Jared wasn''t lying in some advanced bed, blowing bubbles, and doing nothing special with his life. He was out and about, carrying quite the weight in equipment while also adamant that what he was doing was acceptable. The requests for him to strip down completely had been quite surprising, the automation not wanting him to carry any additional weight at all. After having explained the need for him to be out no matter what, due to the constrained amount of personnel available, the automation had wanted to compromise by holding up other requirements for adequate healing more extremely. Refraining from carrying anything over five kilos was supposed to be changed to Jared not being allowed to carry anything at all. It was safe to say that he had rejected that idea, the man not feeling any need to start a nudist¡¯s path of life this early in his lifetime. It could have been a fun thing to do during retirement, yet he knew it wasn''t something that he would be doing for now. In the meanwhile, however, Jared did agree to let go of some of his heavier equipment. Various emergency weapons, scanners, and radios were taken off of him and safely deposited into the banks of the transport vehicle. One good that came from something this big. There was a pocket for everything, even if it wasn''t used traditionally. So¡­ with everything changed around, Jared without most of his professional belonging, and with a drive that made him want to speed up if not for the stupidity of doing such a thing, the two partners began making their way down the street yet again. It was smooth sailing from that point, really. During the time in the grass, Jared had gotten himself something to eat and drink, his mind surprisingly happy about that choice of actions. His brain felt less fogged up, his actions making more sense, and his muscles according to his desires instead of just moving whenever he felt like it. His legs didn''t even seem randomly heavy at that point, making it easy to keep up the pace. Jared did suppose he could put the car in cruise control, making the speed the same no matter how much he moved his foot around on the speeder, yet the man felt that to be a cheap choice. It was the trick meant to help the newer ones that had only recently started the act of long-distance driving. In a way, it was a sign of true mastership of the art. If one couldn''t do the simple act of keeping one¡¯s speed steady, should they even be allowed to drive? While Jared wasn''t one of the elitists who actually used manual gear shifts, he very much still felt that there were some requirements to what one needed to do before they became a driver. Skill and experience were only the starts, certain events needed to be passed flawlessly. What happened during stress, during accidents, during attempted attacks? While the latter might only have been tried and tested on those who wielded weapons on a daily basis, Jared still felt it was a good sign of who deserved to be respected within the skill itself. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. And, again, all of these stemmed from the fact that Jared refused to use cruise-control, the cheapest of shots ever possibly taken towards it. Cheap solutions were for idiots and those who didn''t want to bother learning how to drive properly. And perhaps for the automation. Jared had never really paid too much attention to how those things drove. ¡­ Neither had he actually seen one drive. Jared knew that his partner must have driven the car he was currently in right now, yet he likewise knew that he hadn''t been there when it happened. How did it work exactly? Did it also use a steering wheel? Jared knew that the car could be remotely operated, that there was technically no real need to even be close to the thing to access its controls. One could go around on a cruise purely by sitting in the seat opposite when the driver was supposed to be, simply through the use of the proper commands. Not that anybody really did do so. If there was ever a need to drive the car, the amount of work needed to do it remotely wouldn''t make it worth it, the act of doing it inside the vehicle so much easier than anything else. Jared had already known the warnings about the act as well since not everybody was able to control the car well enough when one wasn''t in it themself. Not the automations, though. Apparently, the things had been designed for the task, able to take control of the car if there ever was a need for it. Which¡­ there had been not that long ago, actually. Jared had picked up speed more than he should have, creating a dangerous situation for them both. The wised answer would have been for the automation to stop the car remotely at that point. Why hadn''t the automation done that? It made sense to do, yet the automation had refrained from doing so. Was the automation not in the know about this ability? No¡­ that didn¡¯t make sense. The automations had access to all the information constantly, so the automation should have- Okay¡­ constantly saying ¡®automation¡¯ was getting on Jared¡¯s nerves. There were only so many times that it could be used before even his mind was in pain over it. But, it wasn''t like there were many other things to call the automation. It was what he called it, after all, and Jared wouldn''t change his opinion. It wasn''t like it had a name or anything that set it apart from its identical brothers. ¡­ That was an idea. A name that could make it so much easier, a name able to make Jared think of his partner in a way that would let him distinguish it from the millions of others like it. Only physically, though. Inside the automation, things were different, its experiences setting it apart so heavily. It had done so much for the man, to the point where he just owed it more than he could ever truly repay. Giving it a name wouldn''t be the biggest payment towards the debt that he had owed to the construct. Not that his partner would ever agree to Jared owing it anything. The man fully understood that the ideas in his head were located in his head and nowhere else. Yet that didn''t make it any less true to him, with the man obsessed with making sure that his desires were fulfilled. And his current desire, most of all, was to give the automation a damn name. "What is your name, by the way?" Jared asked, knowing fully that the automation didn''t have it. He had looked through the services to be sure of that at the last moment. A pretty hard task, his attention having been momentarily split in three. One side constantly searched the road for any traps, the third moving his tongue and making the sounds needing to be said, and the third and final side cross-checking every word that he was saying. "It¡¯s getting on my nerves not knowing it." "I do not have a name," the automation said in a dead-pan tone. If there was supposed to be some form of emotion in that, Jared couldn''t decipher it. There might have been a thousand different sides or there might have been none at all. The man would never be able to truly decide on which it was. "Cass¡¯ automation has a name," Jared pointed out. That was quite the weird face that he had noticed in his search. The automation had apparently designated itself as being called Jules. Quite a weird name, if he was being fair, but maybe that was just the kind of style that constructs liked to be named after. Jared wouldn''t judge. "I see no reason why you wouldn''t have one as well." "There has never been a need for a name in larger circumstances, so there has never been an event where a name-giving has been forced, leaving me nameless," the automation said right back. Jared briefly grimaced, not sure why it was backing down so quickly on the subject. Was it so hard? What had Cass said to make hers choose a name? Jared would have asked if not for the fact that it would have split up his attention by another notch. He wasn''t sure he would be able to deal with that. "Well, this here is definitely a circumstance that gives a need for a name, so get yourself one of them please," Jared encouraged, looking over at the automation at the last bit. It was only for a second, though, as the man quickly moved his attention back on the road in front of him. "... alright," the automation said. Jared liked that answer. ¡­ What he didn''t like was the silence after the fact. Minutes passed again and again, yet the automation didn''t say anything. The man was very surprised it took such a long time. Did they need to create a neural network with a thousand generations to design a single automation with a simple name or something? "Did you find a name yet?" Jared asked. "I was of the belief that you were thinking of a name to give me," the automation answered. "What? Why the hell would I do that?" "I believe that¡¯s how the process works normally." "For babies, yeah, but you''re a full-grown¡­ something. You are fully capable of getting your own name. There¡¯s no need for any other idiots to choose it for you. Now, you have ten seconds, and I will ask you again for a name. You better have one then." ¡­ "Do you have a name now?" "Yes." "Well then stop painting me blue and tell me!" The automation opened its mouth, Jared swallowing in anticipation. He knew it would be great no matter what. Chapter 360: Popped
Cassandra didn''t have to do much during the clean-up. When Grunwald had told her that she would be overviewing the cleaning process, the woman had been expecting something more¡­ inclusive. Maybe she would be helping move a few of the heavier objects, maybe manually destroy some of the thicker parts of the ice, or maybe even make sure that everything was up to code. None of that was done. Instead, she sat by an open car door, bored as hell while looking over a small army of small robots that could do nothing but hack off small bits of ice. They all worked in tandem, some taking away the ice into prepared containers, while others sorted all out all the glass, while the final ones were the robots actually doing the digging itself. It was very neat to look at the start. Cassandra wouldn''t lie about enjoying what she saw. It wasn''t every day that she saw such a large amount of teamwork, after all. Large-scale automatic operations were a rare thing to ever get one''s eyes on, the actions are mostly done in the dark in warehouses no humans had ever stepped inside. Rarely was there ever a need to have moving robots out in the open. Everything was designed to not need maintenance, making the small robots on wheels something of a rare, emergency item. Cassandra had been taught about their uses during her education but never had she actually taken any kind of tests or training related to it. There was just the expectation of them never being needed. And that was true, most of the time. It was only in the most extreme circumstances where such things even needed to be considered as a good solution. How long had it been before this one? A good year? Maybe two. Cassandra followed the news to the minute, making sure that every major controversy was within earshot. It had been quite a while in the country since there had ever actually been something as big as what she needed to oversee. Watching it all, watching how much damage there was to the sides, watching the small robots never used, Cassandra couldn''t help but feel like her life had walked off its intended path. So much had been planned, so many aspirations. She was fine with what she had right now, yes, but that didn''t mean she didn''t also want something more. And that more wouldn''t be achieved with what she was doing now, sitting on her ass inside the car, watching small robots shovelling ice into their small buckets. Who even thought it was a good idea to make them such a small size? Each individual robot would have a hard time carrying more than five litres of ice, being the sole reason why there were nearly a thousand of the things running around the road. They were extremely useless alone, only their numbers making it possible to get as much idea away at their current speeds. If it had been a single robot, it would have taken longer than Cassandra¡¯s life expectancy. Or maybe summer would have come around before it even starting scratching more than the surface of the place. No way to know. Cassandra just knew that she hated the scene to her core. There had been a desire to help them out, taking out the larger pieces herself. It would make great news to see an officer hard at work, doing their best in the harder situations put on them. Because she really did need to look good in the eyes of the public. It was becoming more and more obvious that she would get her name in the newspapers no matter what she did. While that was inherently bad in itself, due to the attention her superiors would get on her, it would be even worse if the news surrounding her was negative. Positive news could garner the hate of the higher-ranked officers, yet negative news would bring the ire of the public. When it came to the superficial parts of society, the latter was the most devastating. It took one wrong picture to make her life a living hell. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. And if that picture was her sitting in a car, while she watched an automation and an army of robots taking care of the mess she was partly responsible for? Well¡­ there wasn''t actually anything good that could come out of that. This was why it was so great that the police had one tool in their hands that so few ever took seriously. The force had the option of making certain plays unrecordable. With the help of a few poles in constant sight, the brain implant in the people¡¯s head would refuse to record anything heard, said, or seen within a specific area. The use of the tool was heavily regulated, making it near-impossible to use for corrupted purposes. For there were loopholes in it. The tool could ignore its orders and allow anybody to record no matter what if certain conditions were met. One of the easier conditions that allowed for limited forms of recording was the journalist badge, a digital addition to people¡¯s identification tags that would allow for more rights than the average civilian. These people were trusted to behave for the good of the country, only recording that which needed to be put out to the public. Cassandra didn''t like the wording on that, knowing exactly what it had the possibility of meaning. Yet that wasn''t the only way to allow recording. If any civilian experienced higher levels of stress, increased heart-beat or was hit in such a way that it created a larger amount of endorphins, the brain-implant would automatically begin recording everything, no matter what. Those near the person would also record anything close to them, as a way of deterring any would-be criminals from taking their chances during apparent digital blackouts. If any danger was encountered, the tool was impossible to use. Some had actually tried to use that loophole before, running laps around a crime scene so that they could get a few good shots of the place. There were many different kinds of motivation for such a thing, but most of the people doing such things were simply out for the monetary gifts that could be gained from such acts. When the media had to waste hours on driving to get to the spot, with news of the situation already hitting social media, much money would be splurged on the rights to any pictures or videos of the situation. And when Cassandra operated in areas where the average household had less than desired, in terms of income, there were people who likely desired pictures of the place more than others. That had been one of the points where the woman could have shown her strong suit. During their drive over to the place, a few people had actually gathered around and close to the road, some going so far as to go in and look around. That, as was very obvious from just the look of the place, was not okay in any reasonable way, and people should have realised that. Yet they hadn''t, making it a requirement to make the crowd disperse into the city as quickly as possible. Cassandra would have been perfect for that task, having trained in just that skill for years on end. If there was anything she was truly at the top at, it would be her skillfulness in swaying the public, be that in smaller or bigger groups. Not that Jules had even let her step out of the car, locking the door remotely when she tried to leave no matter what the damn thing had said. The automation was apparently adamant about it being the only one of the two need to leave the vehicle and had taken measures to make sure that would happen. Cassandra had been pretty angry about that, not liking it one bit. She had been forced to endure, watching the automation do a job that had been intended for her. It had gotten close to violent at a few points, reaching the point where the woman had been scared by the chance of fists starting to fly. It never did reach that point, though, only getting very close to it. It was always stopped, either by others intervening or by the automation giving the person a blank stare. The woman did wonder if people had a phobia of constructs. Their appearance was very human, but there were key differences that set them apart. Nothing serious, of course. It was only enough for the eyes to just notice it, creating an effect much like an uncanny valley. When one mixed that in with the fact that the automation was able to remove all emotion from their face and body, people were very quick to become very distracted, many suddenly having a need to get home and brew some tea for themselves. That was one thing that amused her, at the very least. It got the people away from the site without ever stressing them enough to allow for any filming of any kind. It meant that the woman didn''t need to be seen in her car, watching it all from relative safety. Not that she wanted to be in that net of safety but it was something. And when she finally did get something new, something that forced the woman out of the car, it wasn''t due to something related to the road. Nor was it due to the robots scuttling on the floor beside. No¡­ it was due to an automation that suddenly stopped in its tracks, before laughing like a crazy maniac. Cassandra had to go out and take care of the last witnesses at that point, before bringing the laughing construct into the car. "Just what kind of name is that supposed to be?" the automation shouted. Cassandra could only worry that something had popped inside the things head. Chapter 361: Void
After getting through a solid ten meters of the ice blockage, Cassandra felt that the groups were getting too rowdy again. People had started tempting fate, getting closer and closer to the actual street. Having already left Jules inside the car to suffer its own shouting, the woman had done her best to set up more poles meant to deter any wannabe intruders. Not that her attempts of passive intimidation actually worked, the general police having more limbs than iq nowadays. A warning against entering was the grandest of invitations to them, the promise of slightly fuller pockets likewise fueling a part of the stomach that nobody needed to ever fill. This did require her to disperse the groups growing more and more, a task that the woman didn''t actually have anything against. Able to hone her interactions with the civilians, Cassandra grew calmer and calmer in the events that would soon come around. With the help of having a live feed of the TV crew''s location, she knew exactly how long she had to make the place a decent view. Once again, the woman could only cherish the fact that the country''s terrain made it extremely hard to travel easily in vehicles over long distances. Mountain ranges were truly a gift by the ones who drew fates. How she loved it all. The world was with her this one time, making it easier and easier every step of the way. Cassandra truly wouldn''t have been surprised if a gift bag would drop out of the sky soon. Miracles like that were becoming more and more likely with time. The crowds were proof of that, the woman knowing that not a single soul would have liked to leave their rooms or apartments without being forced before. It was a non-zero chance of seeing anybody outside before, yet now¡­ they were out in masses, nobody fearing being robbed, stabbed, or forced to hear religious preaching. ¡­ That did make Cassandra wonder just who had reported the incident, to begin with. Now that she thought about it, who exactly would have taken a walk over to the stores? They were closed semi-permanently for the foreseeable future, and the place wasn''t really something that would promote staring inside. And with how long a distance there was to any residential buildings, it couldn''t have happened from random chance. It needed to have been a very long and tedious walk for anybody. Intrigued and slightly mystified, Cassandra went through the database, scouring it for the report needed. There was some part of her mind that thought of the whole thing as slightly outside of the protocol. She wasn''t truly required to know of the person''s name this soon, with it only really being needed when she was writing her after-action report. Yet¡­ something just didn''t make sense to her, and she needed some parts to be written down in official formatting. There! In the most recent pile of reports put out by her station, Cassandra was able to find the one she looked for. It was between countless writings by her boss, Grunwald seemingly doing nothing but writing such things. The woman supposed the man had done something inside the station when he was known for almost never leaving it. Focusing on it, she opened the report, her eyes instantly honing in on the spot and finding¡­ Nothing. Well yes, there was definitely something, the thing normally being called a black tearing. It had been redacted from standard personnel. The name of a common reporter had been removed from official documentation, only able to be seen by higher personnel. Not even her boss would be able to look at it. Just¡­ what? That didn''t make sense, to the point where Cassandra had to stop her patrol around the perimeter. There weren''t too many civilians around her, and they certainly were not close enough to be a danger to anybody or the street, making the woman comfortable enough to take her attention somewhere else. ¡®Jules, did you catch what the name of the person who reported this incident was? I can¡¯t find it,¡¯ Cassandra sent to the automation, feeling that the construct could at least be helpful in that path of research. The thing had been made to simply overview the process from inside the car, after all, forced into the position the woman had been in only twenty minutes earlier. ¡®No, I didn''t. No clue that it was important enough to look at. Any reason you wanted to know?¡¯ Jules questioned. Looking over at their vehicle, Cassandra could see the automation staring at her while shrugging its shoulders. The thing clearly wanted to get in on the action, no matter how minor it was. Truly a sad existence, yet one she could have related to previously just as much. ¡®I¡¯ve begun to wonder just who reported this incident. From what Grunwald said, it was a civilian who found it randomly. Yet, with how little outdoor activity has been witnessed in the last weeks, I find it hard to believe that anybody would have found this. So, I want to look at the person who reported this incident¡¯s data, and check out their earlier walking data to see if it truly was random,¡¯ Cassandra explained, giving out her future plans while she was at it. If the automation could get the data for her, it wasn''t a bad idea to have it already know what to do after the fact. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®I think that¡¯s commonly known as downright stalking,¡¯ Jules commented very quickly. The woman wasn''t sure what else she had been expecting from the piece of intelligent metal. For an entity with fluid-based hardware, it was an awfully dense thing. Or maybe it just liked to act like it was, making their entire time together even more frustrating for the woman. Maybe a piece of ice could get through the windshield if she threw hard enough¡­ ¡®It would be best to think of it as a standard background investigation. The information being presented to us is suspicious and requires a more detailed look at the source of it,¡¯ Cassandra threw back, knowing exactly what to say to get what she wanted. She had a point and that was more than enough to keep up the confidence. It did help that her opponent was making faces at her. ¡®Fair enough. Give me a second, and I¡¯ll try to get myself another temporary security upgrade,¡¯ the automation said, surrendering before the verbal tournament could truly begin. Cassandra was all the happier because of it, able to delegate the needed task to somebody else. Applying for temporary security upgrades was one of the most hellish things anybody could be presented with. The amount of paperwork needed for it, at any level, was more than the average officer would need to do in the span of a month. Non-disclosure-contracts, several put-the-blame-on-yourself contracts, and what could only be called a willing resignation if anything got messed up because of one¡¯s own actions was just the start of it. The administration departments made sure to all get their fill. Especially when it was needed in a hurry. Cassandra had personally only attempted the procedure once in her entire career, and that signal time was enough for a lifetime. The amount of work needed to gain access to higher-tiered documents needed for an investigation was so much more than just asking her superior to give her access directly. In the current instance, Cassandra would actually have done just that, asking Grunwald for what he had written down in the report. But that didn''t work now, since even he wasn''t allowed to possess the information. Which was a decently complicated ordeal, since the man already knew it due to writing it¡­ that fact just made another round of paperwork appear, most of it detailing how little the man was allowed to talk about it. That left the woman with two choices. To disregard her trauma of getting access to it the hard, or¡­ she could make somebody else do it for her. It wasn''t hard to figure out which choice she had chosen since Jules was already hard at work on her behalf. And while she had trouble with the amount of work needed for the access to be granted, the automation had no such qualms, easily able to bulldoze through all the paperwork like it was nothing. Cassandra supposed that was one plus side of being connected to millions of machines, ready for any beck and call sent out. Not that everything could be placed into Jules¡¯ discretion. The automation clearly had some limits on how much processing power it had access to. That was obvious from the last time access had been needed, the construct having taken more than a few minutes on the task. And, seeing that this was no different than before, Cassandra had started her own tasks with the full expectation of doing a few of them before an answer would come around. And the woman wasn''t wrong, able to do a few laps around the street, threatening any civilians with legal actions if they tried to use questionable loopholes, while also listing off possible legal fees from such a thing. That made most run in fear. Money was the biggest weapon to use, after all. Those who remained¡­ were shown the metaphorical door in other ways. Luckily for some, however, the automation did actually finish its job after a while. And since the woman had been more than adept at her job, there wasn''t too much else that required her attention, making it fully possible to put all her focus on the construct yet again. ¡®Did you find a name?¡¯ Cassandra asked, walking without truly looking around. Not that her mind even needed to be put on the task, instincts trusted to react if anybody got close enough. ¡®I did not find a name, but I did gain access to what was hidden behind the black bar,¡¯ Jules said, contradicting itself within a single sentence. Quite the achievement for something meant to make sense. ¡®The name was under the black bar. If you found what was under the bar, you found the name,¡¯ Cassandra sent back instantly, not wanting anything to do with the construct''s attempts at playing a mystic. ¡®That¡¯s what I thought as well. Yet, it turns out that things aren''t as we thought,¡¯ Jules said. From her position, she could see that smug thing looking happy about the time being wasted. She wanted answers. ¡®Give me details. Now,¡¯ Cassandra ordered. ¡®Fine with me, darling,¡¯ Jules said, stopping briefly to put its hand up in surrender. The woman did not like the name it gave her, and she made that obvious through her eyes alone. ¡®You weren''t lying when you said that your boss wouldn''t be able to access the name. That security was way too high for that.¡¯ ¡®How high are we talking?¡¯ Cassandra asked. If it was on the regional level, it would have been quite the work to get it to- ¡®High enough for no living human to have the rank required for it,¡¯ Jules answered, much to the surprise of the woman. ¡®The security level given to this thing is something that is only there in theory. It has never been used before. That was quite the conundrum to the administrators. I had to go through so many channels to find anybody able to fix that error. Somebody has apparently done the impossible with that one. You weren''t meant to be able to give anything that classification no matter what.¡¯ ¡®But somebody did.¡¯ ¡®Yup. It took a few calls, but they were able to rectify the mistake. You should even be able to look at it now,¡¯ Jules said. Instantly, Cassandra opened her internal interface, navigating to the part she knew she wanted. Her mind responded, going through the heaps of reports and over to the one to the one she knew she needed. And in the report there was- Nothing. The spot was empty. Now void of the black, it was replaced with a white background. The place meant to have a name had nothing. ¡­ ¡®I have to go over to Grunwald and discuss this in person. Are you able to oversee this without me being here?¡¯ Cassandra asked, not too sure if she was able to delegate the work to the construct. ¡®Of course, I can. But, does this mean I can get out of the car now?¡¯ ¡®Yes. Get out. I need to use it.¡¯ Cassandra needed answers. Chapter 362: Nero
Jared needed answers. He needed so many things. He needed legs that could support his weight while he stood, needed ribs that could handle him taking deep breaths, and, if any gods listened to him at that moment, he also needed to know just why the automation had chosen that of all names. "Are you sure you want me to call you that? And, I mean, really sure?" Jared asked for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. Each time, he just grew warier and warier of himself. Was he experiencing hallucinations on command, the construct in from of him unable to speak any words he could hear? Was he going insane? He had to. There was no way that the world he perceived was real. It was too fictitious, without any real reason to anything. The blood was fake, the dead stares in the cold corpses were without any shock to him. The only shock he could feel was the moments where the construct looked him right in the eyes and told him words that were like the most dangerous poison to behold. "Yes. I have been told that it is a name with meaning," the automation with a certain name said. Not that Jared felt entirely comfortable even thinking about it, the mere presence of it bringing fear into his soul. If he had a soul, at that. The name might just have sucked it out of him, for all he knew. Even the damned soul of satan, the tortured soul that was always hungry for prey, wouldn''t amount to anything when compared to the devil that was the name that the construct had chosen. "I was told by a co-worker that it was a grand choice." Nothing made sense. It was all fake, all one big illusion meant to torture him for all eternity. That had to be it right? Jared felt like standing up on his weak legs and shout to the skies about how he had seen through the curtains, had seen what the dolls and paintings had tried to hide from him, that he had perceived the truth of his fake life. But¡­ he just sat still in the back of the car, letting his body rest like he had been asked. "But there are plenty of other names with meaning," Jared objected for what felt like the tenth time. Normally, he would just plead for the automation to see reason, yet other times he still tried to find some logic in it all. Instead of putting the blame on those around him, he tried to justify others actions and their inherent evil on his own ideas and ideals. It didn''t make sense most of the time, and Jared understood fully that there weren''t any guarantees that it would ever fully work. Pride was a fickle thing, able to give many gifts while also closing so many doors. Even when he tried to forget that side of him, to ignore the tale he had told himself for so long, he couldn''t help but be seen through that lens forever. If it was like a wound, it would need years, decades, forever to heal, the damage down always able to leave a scar on his body. There was a chance it would always be seen, that the way he carried himself and that the way he tackled would show all what colours he had truly worn for such a long time. Jared could do nothing but accept it, yet he fully understood how much he would have loved to have it removed from him entirely. Yet, that was just another far-fetched dream, only to be had in his mind and in the reality he himself created. Not the one he was in, however. No¡­ that was hell, not operated for his own good but to enhance his own suffering. He had seen bad mistakes, again and again, had seen others do things they would regret while thinking themselves the geniuses of the decade. The actions done, the words uttered, everything he had seen in those times had never been without some consequences. And, for better or for worse, Jared knew that the same would come from that damned name that the construct had chosen. "And there are a hundred ways to say two. That does not mean I won¡¯t use the one I like the most,¡¯ the construct said. The automation went down on one knee, bringing one of the body bags out of its pockets and swiftly began to stuff a body down into it. The actions were quick, without pause, and with more efficiency than Jared had ever seen it performed. Truly something that deserved to overtake him in the end. "I have taste, I have a desire for something I can know myself by. You call yourself Jared, even if others find such a name under average in quality. Yet you still wear it with pride, because that is the name you have been given and the name that you will keep because of it." Oh, how Jared so strongly desired to stand up and give the thing a piece of his mind. He had so many words to shout, so many things to exclaim without breath in between, so many quotes he needed to make about the quality of tradition. But¡­ it all fell on an unmoving tongue, the man¡¯s gears working quicker than his reasoning. His mind thought and thought, the words of the construct being crunched into smaller and smaller pieces. Like the system in his stomach, it all worked through digestion. Everything was made into something, everything was looked at, and everything was covered in him. Before anything else could be done, Jared looked at the words said before he looked at himself and sighed. The construct was right. It had been right from the start. Jared, praise be the name that he had, was something that was looked down on frequently. It was a name fitting an elderly man, of one that had lived a full life of hard striving and work. It didn''t fit somebody like him, only just at the beginning of reaching his real prime. He wasn''t old enough to fit the stereotype. He wasn''t what people thought of when they heard his name. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. And that was one of his bigger weaknesses. He didn''t fit into the group. He didn''t fit into the idea that Jared had in the heads of the general populace. Jared knew that. He had known that fact for years, decades even. Yet¡­ what had he done against it? What had he done to change this title, to make sure he could better fit into the boxes created by those around him? He had done nothing. Not a single step had been taken towards that goal of becoming the average human. There had been nothing stopping him from taking the guise of another name, to be called something that fit his form and stature more. But, he had never actually thought of it, his whole being assimilated of the identity called Jared. He was Jared and Jared was him. There was no changing that around, no matter how hard others pushed for that to become reality. He was proud of who he was, who he had become, and who he would be in the future. And, without a single doubt in his mind, he knew that his name would live for as long as him, that it would never be changed. That wasn''t something that took courage. It didn''t require anything of the person. It only required that they knew who they were. With that simple fact, it would become impossible to change them, to make them fall away from who they always knew they had been. And¡­ when somebody had a name attached to them, Jared would do nothing but respect their choice. The construct wanted a name, had chosen a name and he had criticized it from the moment he had first heard it. He had seen a choice that had taken so long to make, and he had spit on everything it meant. With how high the man had taken his own name, how high he had looked at the legacy behind it, how could he see himself in the mirror with the way he treated others of the same class? So what if it was a different name? The power behind it was the same in his mind and in his heart. "... Fine. I am sorry for this whole thing," Jared said, taking his hands to his head and taking a breath deep enough for his ribs to start hurting again. The man was forced to stop from that, his face turning into a grimace of pain. "I should have guessed you felt that way, that you felt at all really. It¡¯s just so hard to get into this new mindset of you not being the tool to untap my frustrations at unrelated things." And there he went saying too many things, speaking truths only meant for his mind to know, only meant for his heart to ponder about. By that point, Jared was sure that the construct had logged his works, putting them into the database for all other automations to see in plain view. Maybe some of them were having a laugh at his inane comments, cringing at the stupidity he couldn''t help but constantly portray. Or maybe they were just hoping he would take a deep breath and try to see if his fever wouldn''t go down. Oh¡­ he had a fever. Jared hadn''t noticed that until now. Maybe that was because his system had only noted that fact at that moment, making him aware of the fact that he was up to forty-one celsius. Quite high for an augmented user, most not able to even get a fever. Jared certainly couldn''t remember getting one in the last five years. Yet¡­ the swimming in his head made him aware of all the other times he had tried something similar, where his mind had been unable to differentiate between speech and thoughts. Speaking in plain tongue¡­ Jared couldn''t feel his tongue. Maybe it was moving and maybe it was going down his throat. There was no way for him to know. "It¡¯s fine," the construct suddenly said. When did it get close? Jared would have normally been shocked enough to push the automation away, yet his arms weren''t feeling up to it at that moment. His head was barely allowing him to move his eyes, actually. Though, he wasn''t really sure if that was due to tiredness or extreme nausea. The world was awfully close to turning at rapid rates. "I already knew all of it. We all did." "There are more of you?" Jared slurred, unable to figure out the mechanics of moving a tongue in tandem with his lips. Was it always this difficult? Because he certainly couldn''t remember that fact, his mouth just feeling so extremely dry. It felt like the heat had turned up so high that the liquid inside his body had dried all up. Maybe that was just another sign that the sweat on his body wasn''t a good thing. When had he gotten so wet? "No, there is only one of me. I believe we just agreed on that fact," the automation said. It helped him from his seat before getting the man over to the side of the car. With the construct¡¯s strong body, it was easily able to carry him with one arm while opening the door inside the car with the other. "I thank you for the compliment, but I believe you need to lie down. Please mind your head. It would be an awful thing if you got a concussion on top of this." Jared certainly didn''t mind the cold seat, his body desperate for anything that would cool him down the slightest bit. Weak attempts were made to rid his body of the few remaining pieces of armour, some parts jabbing him in his already sensitive stomach. All attempts were failures, even though he somehow turned on the cooler. "That was me," the automation Jared called his partner said. How nice of it. "I am sure you¡¯re enjoying it. Please lie still and rest. If all possible, it would be a great help if you could keep your body on the side. It will not take long before we can get back to the station. I just need to bag up the remaining corpses." At the mention of that, Jared tried to bolt up from his lying position. He was supposed to be helping with that! There was no mention of him lying down and resting when talking to Grunwald. He was meant to be up and running, doing his job, and helping keep the city a safe place. Therefore, it was no surprise that the man did his best to get off the seats and up and running. But¡­ a force was holding him down. A very evil power. That was the only thing Jared could think of. "I would prefer being called your partner, actually. Or¡­ maybe you could just use my name?" the automation holding him down said. "There is only one more bag I need to get into the car. It owuld be pointless for you to get up now. In a way, it would help the station if you lie down. Do you understand?" the automation asked. Jared nodded, even his weak mind able to understand which action would help the team. He was the supporter after all. "Good. This will just take a second." The automation could be heard taking steps away from the door, back over to the end of the car. Jared could barely discern it from his pulse, the sweat in his ears making everything hard to get through in any real way. He didn''t mind, however, knowing that moving would hamper efficiency. And efficiency was key to success. "I hope I am helping¡­ Nero." His cheeks were red with sweat. That was the last thing Jared remembered for a long while. This was perhaps why he didn''t remember what happened thirty seconds after that mutter, making it all be a mystery forever. Chapter 363: Scarlet
As Cassandra drove towards the station, a small notification got sent to her brain implant. Giving it a glance, she was notified that Jared was apparently out of the count for the next while. The woman did wonder how such a thing had happened until she realised who she was thinking about. If any man or woman was to be hurt doing something stupid, there was only one guess needed to figure out who that was. And it most definitely wasn''t her or Grunwald, both of them having more sense in their hearts than Jared had in his brain. Even their feet would win in a contest of will half the time. Or maybe that was just her opinion of the man. Cassandra realised it might have been partially wrong. From what she could read, the automation by Jared¡¯s side had apparently been forced to hold the man down to stop him from trying to work. The woman supposed that such an outlook could have been seen as a positive of sorts. The man wanted to die on his feet. Maybe it was stupid when one thought about the possibility of surviving if one just relaxed for an hour or two, but who would be able to tell the man that? Certainly not the automation. From what the construct had sent in its partial report, the man was bordering on irrational, a higher fever bringing judgement down to an extremely low level. Cassandra could see how that had the chance of going extremely wrong. Augmented users had a hard time when it came to getting sick. That was meant in the way that they almost never actually got sick, their bodies having been tempered to such a degree that they always were in near-optimal health. There was a high bar of entry for anything that would cause them weakness. Yet, much like the effects of medicine and alcohol, the hit was strong when it finally came. Cassandra could go from not even feeling a buzz to being blackout drunk, in the span of a single cocktail. Likewise, she could go from completely fine to in danger of organ damage by just sitting outside in the cold for two minutes too long. It was funny how that happened. Cassandra guessed that it had been partially due to the sedatives the man had been given earlier. The body might not have cleansed itself of it as much as anticipated, making it weaker to the outside world and making it hard for the body to resist anything thrown it''s way. From what she could see, the man was apparently the owner of quite a high fever. It wasn''t enough to send out word for a helicopter, but it was enough to get the pair back to the medical wing. Luckily, there was no need for that to be ordered, the automation by his side apparently already in full gear for that to happen. Looking at the map, it might just have outdone the past record when it came to speeding. The automation drove faster than anything Jules had when inside the city, getting just an inch closer to light-poles at every turn. Cassandra wasn''t even sure if she would get to the station before it, if things continued to be like that. The automation truly was a beast in its own class. ¡­ Cassandra supposed she needed to call it Nero instead now. It wasn''t the most common name in the world, yet Jared¡¯s construct had apparently found a liking to it. Who was she to really judge? Cassandra certainly had a better reaction to it than Jules, that construct nearly bursting an organ with how loud it needed to shout. But that was of no real matter. Name or not, the construct was still fit for duty. In the span of Jared showing signs of sickness and them driving to the station, the automation had speedily done two hours of work in the span of five minutes. That alone was enough to jolt Cassandra out of any form of comfort she had before, such a monstrous fact truly shaking her down to her core. Her bones rattled from it. It was yet another showing of just how fast they could be. Sure, the images that were shown proved that there was a higher chance of some human remains being mildly damaged from being thrown around, but it wasn''t like anybody would actually sue them for it, the former cultists not really being in possession of any living relatives or friends. And if the cards were played right, it wasn''t even like the general population would even hear about them existing. When the station was finally within her sight, Cassandra slowed down the vehicle just the tiniest bit. While the woman had been able to drive without too much strain, it had certainly been a long time before she had truly been behind the wheel. She had gotten so accustomed to letting the automations do that task that she had nearly forgotten how to follow the protocols associated with driving at the speed, making the woman have a strong desire towards carefulness. After all, she wasn''t an automation capable of making a million calculations an hour. Not all her movements were made with efficiency in mind, and there was no chance that it all worked together with no matter what. In the grand scheme of it all, there wasn''t anything a human could really do to match that. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. And that was seen easily. In a literal sense that time, Cassandra was able to see another vehicle speeding past her into the parking lot. It drove faster than what she felt comfortable with on the motorway, nearly drifting into one of the spots in front. It was a grand move, made even grander by the fact that the one in the driver¡¯s seat hadn''t even been looking out the window, instead of focusing on holding onto the other passenger. Slowly but surely driving into the parking lot herself, Cassandra was quick to get out of the car with the key in hand. On the front of the station, the automation, Nero, was making quick work of getting some body bags out of the back of the vehicle. They were just about thrown onto the ground in one big heap. Maybe there was some plan for them after that, yet Cassandra just couldn''t see it. Perhaps the automation planned on shaking the corpses into fine dust and them just having an easy time because of it? That had been done before. "How do you plan on getting them into the morgue?" Cassandra asked it, walking over to the side of the car to look inside. Lying on the front seat, with the head towards where the driver normally was, was Jared, looking as healthy as ever. Sarcasm, of course. That man was paler than anything Cassandra had seen in a long time, the tone going closer to white than anybody should have been comfortable with. If not for the fact that they were already at the station, Cassandra would have personally requested helicopter transport. "Carrying them. It is faster than finding an indoor transport," Nero answered, the last of the bodies having been gotten out of the vehicle. There were also some disassembled traps inside, but those were apparently not important enough to take care of that very second. Cassandra supposed that was fair, with how time was of the essence and all. And it was apparently also faster than going over to the correct entrance for corpses. Body-bags weren''t supposed to be brought through the front entrance, yet the automation was very clearly planning on doing just that. Cassandra wondered if it had even thought about that fact, or if it just planned out the most optimal route with no care about what was within protocols. Cassandra grimaced at the thought of the gross violation. Even though she had some standards to uphold, and even if there weren''t any civilians to witness the event, there was still some concern about the decency surrounding it. She had to get involved with this. "I have an idea, Nero," Cassandra said, using the construct¡¯s name for extra effect. That certainly got its attention quickly, the automation looking over at her near-instantly. "How about you go through the proper entrance with the bags, and I¡¯ll bring over Jared to the medical wing and set him up there" "Idea accepted. Please hurry. I will lock the vehicle on my own, so no time should be wasted with that thought in mind," Nero said. With three swift pulls, the automation settled three corpses on a single shoulder. It was quite the sight to see, Cassandra knowing that at least one of the cultists wore metal armour. How much weight it must have been carrying¡­ No matter. Getting herself centred on her own task, the woman opened the door in the driver''s seat. On it, Jared was partially resting. He must have been in that position for a long time, now that Cassandra thought about it. Jared was lying on his side, with his feet over towards his own door to the outside. Yet with how tall that man was, it would have been impossible to only occupy his own seat during the travel, meaning that he must have had his head over at the driver. In other words, the automation must have been forced to use its lap as a temporary pillow. ¡­ What a peculiar thought to have. Cassandra wasn''t too sure how she felt about it, the woman occupying her own thoughts through the action of taking Jared out of the car. The man had removed some of his gear, making him much lighter than normal. Even still, though, his mass was still greater than hers, requiring some heavy positioning to make it work. The first attempt was to make the man partially hold up his own weight, yet that worked extremely badly. No real force was used on his legs, and the only worthwhile thing the man did was to make a small groan when his head was moving around too fast. That wasn''t the sweetest noise in the world, Cassandra quite honestly having thoughts of just dropping the man on the street at that point. Not that she did, instead of moving over to a princess carry instead. There were thoughts about doing a fireman¡¯s carry instead, yet the woman wasn''t sure if the greater mass on the man would allow it. It was all a hard puzzle to get through, and she could only do her best throughout it. Getting through the front entrance was a breeze compared to anything else, Cassandra having to enter sideways to stop Jared from bumping his head into the side of the wall. Not the greatest thing to occur after all. The sick would grow healthy from increased brain trauma. Not even if the other person holding the sick person thought it would be a little funny. The side-ways tactic was used again and again, as the pair got farther and farther into the building. Once again lamenting the building¡¯s design on how to place the medical wing, Cassandra simply did her best to move swiftly. She was sure Nero would have done better at that point. "I don¡¯t care about your name," Jared suddenly said. The voice itself was extremely slurred, to the point where Cassandra recalled it as being very close-sounding to that of an intoxicated old man. Yet, even the old men couldn''t do that sound justice, Jared truly being hard to decipher. "I just care about you." "That is good to hear, I suppose," Cassandra said, not exactly sure how she was expected to respond to that. Would a ¡®thank you'' even work? Or was that only appropriate when the man actually knew who he was talking to. "I don¡¯t understand why I ever shouted at you. You¡¯re a good person," Jared continued, Cassandra meanwhile trying to think of any real situation where the man had shouted at her. Finding none, she could only surmise her guess to be the right one. "Just for your information, your partner is currently doing something else. This might be something you want to say to Nero instead," Cassandra informed him. "My cheeks are red." "Your whole body is red, Jared. I don¡¯t think we needed to be told." Chapter 364: Secret
The act of putting a grown man to bed wasn''t an experience that Cassandra had expected to try out at any point in life. Yet, that was exactly what she tried out just then. It didn''t help that the man himself was weakened, delusional to the point where one needed to worry, and absolutely determined to be the most annoying piece of garbage that a human could be. "Do everybody in the world a favour and lie still for a moment," Cassandra said, trying in vain to get the straps around the man¡¯s legs. She needed him to refrain from moving if she was to ever get a chance at making them work. It wasn''t like she could hold him down or anything. Even a weakened Jared still had double her strength from any position. Lifting his legs to the side was as easy with and without her weight added on top. And with the fever, she doubted that the man even knew what she was doing. "I can¡¯t feel my left leg," Jared muttered yet again as if Cassandra hadn''t already understood the part of his perspective. The left leg had been the one foot into success that the woman had gained yet, the delusional man not yet having understood what she was trying to do at that point. Yet, the moment that she tried to do the same with the other leg, the man just had to become erratic. "That¡¯s because you''re struggling. Maybe everything will become better if you just relax for a bit," Cassandra muttered. With a very strong shove to the side, she was able to keep the leg in the right position for just a second. That was more than enough for her, the woman able to put the cord through right. Even with the man moving around, she was slowly able to turn it into the right length. "Where is Nero?" "Likely on their way here." "Why isn''t he here yet?" "Maybe they needed to clean up the mess that you two gathered." "... I am a failure." Cassandra did agree with that statement on some level, but she didn''t say it out loud. Even with the man being clouded in his mind, she didn''t want to press her chances too much. Though¡­ maybe if she explained her reasoning for her statement, it would have likely been better to the outside world. She could have phrased it as something inspirational instead of just her outright calling him a terrible human being. The strap around the stomach was next. It would have normally been around the ribs, but it was clear that doing so might not have been the smartest of decisions. Jared would have likely just punctured the lung fully through that restless wrestling around. Luckily, doing that was much easier than the legs, the man not able to move too much anymore. Or, well, he could have moved around a bit by bending his knees, yet the man was clearly too stupid to figure that out. The man needed to relax at work. That could have been the opening statement. Then something about him not needing to think so much about what he wasn''t doing when he was sick. Expecting a weak dog to run a marathon and then shooting it when it failed was truly idiotic. It was even stupider when it was the dog doing the shooting without being asked. "Where is Nero?" Cassandra had to give herself a moment to sigh. The lower and upper chest straps were done, both not pressing against the weak rib. Another strap on the thighs helped keep the legs where they needed to be while not forcing them down in one position to the point where the man got nervous. But none of that would work if the man couldn''t realise what was happening, Jared getting denser and denser in that head of his. The bed was telling her that he was simply experiencing delusions from a high fever, yet the augmented properties of the body were clearly showing off how cruel they could be at some points. "They are coming soon." Jared needed to learn from his previous mistakes. That could be another encouraging message. Instead of fucking up, again and again, asking the same question, again and again, there was a chance that the man could learn just what was wrong with his actions. Not that Cassandra really expected him to do that, the man not truly in a position where he could even realise what he was doing. "Why isn''t he here? I need him to be here." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "You need a lot of things, Jared. And I need things too. I need you to stop moving those arms," Cassandra said. The arms were truly the hard part. Trying to take hold around one of them would just make the man wrangle out of her grasp quickly. He didn''t like to be held now for some reason. Cassandra could very clearly remember not hearing a single complaint while she carried him over to the bed but, sure, now was the perfect time to become like that. "Why?" "Because Nero doesn''t want you like this," Cassandra said before she thought better of it. Something like that couldn''t be perceived as anything other than a verbal cutting, close to abusive in some parts of the world. That might have been why the man slackened his body just after. No resistance was felt, no muscles moving on the outside. Even the legs constantly trying to break free had turned into mush. Jared was like a dead man. ¡­ Yet again, the woman felt like she needed information on just what was going on between those two. One day Jared shouted as his life depended on it, and now he had nothing better to do than act like a little child looking for its mother. It was embarrassing to be around. Yes, the act was likely enhanced due to sickness, yet the actions had to have started from somewhere. Was the man so deprived of comradery that the simple act of being saved was enough to make him fall head over heels for the thing?... Cassandra didn''t actually doubt it. It was more stupid than anything else she had seen that day, so there was no reason for it not to be true. But, there still had to be some form of trigger for it. Some moments where the man turned his eyes differently, looked at the construct differently. Cassandra knew he had asked the thing for a name just today, so¡­ what exactly happened? Cassandra wasn''t feeling bad enough to actually search through Jared¡¯s personal records to figure out what he had said. While her records were locked up, her personal inhibitions about the act stopped her. Luckily, there were no such qualms about looking into the records of the automation by the name of Nero, a wonderful machine capable of storing data down to the individual molecule. And¡­ she was most definitely able to see it all. The automation had started up not long after she had left the basement in the night. Jules had apparently stayed up for a while longer, doing some form of movement tests. Cassandra learned that the automations could make back-flips from that footage. How wonderful a discovery. Going further ahead, however, she was able to see it going up and preparing the large vehicle that Cassandra had seen unload bodies from not that long ago. As a peculiar detail, it had brought body bags, medicine, and¡­ some form of liquid. Cassandra couldn''t recognize the label and the database showed nothing of note about it, so she just shrugged it off and turned the stream back on. Jared came into the picture not long after that. Like always, the man was driving. Cassandra didn''t know why she expected any change with that of all things, the bastard always one to feel comfortable in the driver¡¯s seat. Some more talking was had. Nothing that Cassandra was too surprised by. Then came the actual naming part, which¡­ was interesting to hear at all. The man had clearly had a few misconceptions about how the whole thing worked, to the point where the woman had to glance over at the bed and wonder who exactly she was working with. Not minding the lowered mental state of the man, she continued watching it at a higher speed. There was a whole lot of silence, of uncomfortable glancing from one side only, and an automation that was apparently unsure of what to do. From a very brief glance at the logs, the automation had apparently questioned Jules of what was the smartest decision to make. A lot of those inquiries had been made, apparently. Cassandra hadn''t looked further into that side of things. Going over to the other side, Jared had apparently been showing signs of something from the beginning of the journey. Nero, as it was called now, had noted the man shifting around more than normal, and being distracted to the point where they did not notice their job of driving being done improperly. It had to be around there that something began to truly change. The starting interaction had much promise, but the actual effects were only settling in the car. Only... the effects of sickness might also have been a factor there. Even with a muddled mind, Cassandra did still expect that man of all people to have driven well. While he did a well enough job the rest of the way, it was still clear he wasn''t operating on the same levels as normal. Sickness again or something else? Cassandra skipped forward once more, only briefly seeing the time spent discussing the new name, focusing more on how the body movements slowly became more and more slurred. The construct had apparently been observant about it since near the start. The woman had to commend on that, the ability to spot it so quickly likely having done much good. Then the man was put into the car, comments were made during the final clean-up, and¡­ they began the drive home. At least¡­ the woman had to think of that as being the real thing. There was a gap. It was not a long one, not possibly more than ten seconds, yet it was still definitely there. After Jared had fully fallen unconscious, while the construct had still stood over him, some part of the footage had been restricted. Just¡­ what? Something wasn''t right. Just why had that part been restricted? Cassandra needed to know more. ¡®Jules, I have another restriction you need to help me with,¡¯ Cassandra sent to the automation she knew and hated. ¡®Sorry, boss. Nero made me promise to not help you with this one. You know how it is with those things,¡¯ Jules sent back almost instantly. ¡­ ¡®I didn¡¯t tell you what I needed help with.¡¯ ¡®There was no need to. Everybody worth a damn here could guess it from a mile away.¡¯ ¡®Could I then get a hint about what happened in those moments?¡¯ ¡®The slightest hint would tell you the whole truth. Trust me. I know.¡¯ ¡­ Cassandra gave up, knowing nothing else could be truly done about it. The thing was stubborn until the end. With the remaining straps done, she finally left the room. Nero would show up any moment now, anyway, so there was no problem with leaving the man alone. Now, she had to visit the one above. There was an issue she needed to be rectified. Chapter 365: Mail
Putting everything else aside, feet hitting the floor hard as she didn''t waste a single second, Cassandra barged into the office that Grunwald had set up for himself. It was close to a series of cubicles if anything, but the lack of any real people had allowed them to rearrange the furniture to be closer to one single office. Not the cleanest of operations, but the woman could understand the desire for a bigger room. Sitting around in the cafeteria wasn''t the greatest experience, after all. Professional papers were best drafted when one back actually didn''t feel pain after five minutes. "I¡­ see you are back early, Cass," Grunwald said as the woman entered the room. The man might have taken a second to check the time, just to make sure it had not flown by during work. Cassandra couldn''t blame him for the safety check, knowing fully that she had done the same many times before. "Did anything go wrong during the operation?" "No, I would have contacted you remotely if that was the case," Cass said, getting into the seat opposite of the man. There were a few to choose from, the man seemingly having the vain hope of them ever actually being needed. It''s not like there were enough people in total to fill up four. Perhaps a few visitors could help if they really needed it? A thought to consider. "Jules is perfectly able to handle the current tasks, and the robots are showing steady progress. From the analytics, we assume that we will be more than ready for the public to have eyes on it by tonight." "Thank you for the update on the situation. However, that doesn''t truly explain your reasoning for coming here. Or, I must assume there was a reason," Grunwald answered quickly, the man clearly used to the updated arrangement. If anything, he was the one that taught Cassandra to use it, the need for quick updates essential to the workshop format in the small towns. Nobody needed ten-page essays when a ten-word verbal update would be much faster and more efficient. Not that this stopped Cassandra from doing the first during the official reports but whatever. Efficiency was important and she wanted that cleared up more than anything. If it meant she had to take a few steps beforehand, the woman was perfectly fine with that requirement. "There was indeed one," Cass stated. A moment was spent in silence as the woman sent over a certain file to the man. It was one that she had been fiddling with not much earlier when she was looking over the details of the initial robbery report. "This report was issued by a few hours ago when the call about the robberies were made. Inside, I noticed that-" "The reporter¡¯s name isn''t present," Grunwald finished before she even had the chance. Ignoring the mild annoyance felt at the man doing so, Cassandra did nod in confirmation of his statement. He was right in the end. Instead of any name, there was only a blank space, hidden away from any eyes through the power of an impossible-to-break lock. Or well, it was hidden away until Cassandra got her hands on it. "I believe some errors were made during its creation," Cass started again when Grunwald looked at her for more information. The two were clearly beginning to see the same side of the coin, the problems appear to both. "That blank space was originally restricted to a level higher than any human on the planet has access to. My current theory is that there was some malfunctioning during its creation, creating the classified and deleting what was originally meant to be there. Do you have thoughts on that idea?" "... I suppose it could be true. We did have some malfunctions last night on the police server. The OS spat out a fix within the minute, so I had no suspicions about any errors being made because of it. Although¡­ this does show that my lack of suspicion might have caused some consequences," Grunwald said after some time. A theory of his own was being created, or maybe just an extension of the one Cassandra had already made. It depended on how one looked at it all. "Any idea on what might have caused the computer error?" Cass questioned, fishing for the idea of something being at play. Or maybe the head-servers at the centre were being- "Something random, if I had to hazard a guess. It has happened a few times this past year. We¡¯ve had a brief reprieve of a few months of quiet now, so I imagined that age to be over. But¡­ this shows that it''s quite the opposite," Grunwald said, leaning back in his chair. "I would not truly be worried about it. It just happens sometimes." ¡­ Right. Of course, it would be something as banal as that. Police servers malfunctioning being a common thing, the only corruption at the place being that the budget did not allow for a complete replacement of an already century-old system running in place. No amount of patchwork would help it, yet they would just continue building on it, wouldn''t they? Yet another thing that Cassandra swore to get fixed when she had the chance. "I see," Cassandra said, feeling a small bit deflated from all the tension in the air. If it was something of this level, she might just have overreacted a small bit. Nothing that she really worried about. It was a regular occurrence to worry about inconsistencies and there was likely one that would be serious. But¡­ for now, it was nothing to be truly worried about. "Just a common mistake. I feel a bit stupid coming all the way to the station to report it." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "Ah, there¡¯s no reason to be like that. This is still a large error, even if the reason behind it might not have been of the same calibre. We must surely need to get this fixed as quickly as possible, lest the higher-ups might just send another complaint down our way," Grunwald said, quick to discourage her from feeling down. The man even gave her a smile of acknowledgement, clearly understanding the feelings felt. Cassandra felt a small connection form at that point, even if it was only brief. The two shared common ground on something! "And¡­ the medical room¡¯s automatic systems did notify me of you bringing in Jared. When he wakes up, I am sure he will thank you for the quick help you were able to give him. He¡¯s apparently becoming quite reliant on you, with how this is progressing. I do hope he improves his health." Cassandra wouldn''t have called herself the one that Jard relied on, but she was not the right person to comment on unhealthy behaviours like that¡­ even if there clearly were some serious topics to discuss with the man. One moment shouting and the other asking for them to be beside their bed. Something was going on in that man¡¯s head, be that stress forming something else or just some switch being turned on by accident. Cassandra was sure the pay-out would come soon. "I am sure he would," Cass said, driving away from the attempted Jared-inclusion. There was no real desire to talk about the man more than she truly needed to. And¡­ there were more important matters to discuss anyway. "This fixing of the report should be fairly easy, however. Maybe check it through for any more minor errors, put in the name, and then ship it off again?" "That sounds like a good idea, though I would personally add a general sweep of the database for anything that has a higher requirement than what the current leader of the country can look through," Grunwald said with a smug smile. He clearly had some expectations of what they had. Cassandra noted that fact down for later. "Of course. Have to make sure that the mistake isn''t repeated. Would be terrible if it wasn''t an isolated incident," Cass stated, starting up the commands on the database. She would have previously needed the higher-up''s permission to do so, but Grunwald had happily given her access without needing to be asked. Though, that access did allow her to look at the capacity of the database. She didn''t even truly remember how much space that symbol meant. What exactly was a domegemegrottebyte even? "The database is estimating it to take a few hours. In the meantime, I believe we could check over the report itself?" "It wouldn''t take more than a minute, actually," Grunwald corrected her. "The report itself is unchanged except for the missing name. Nothing that we should be in need of correcting." "That''s¡­ great," Cassandra said, unsure of how she felt about the man being able to check through an entire document for any minor errors in the span of the time she needed to make a single command to a system. "Since you already have access to my version of the document, could you put in the name? It would be helpful, and allow me to send it through the proper channels." Grunwald stared at Cassandra. Cassandra stared back. The woman was waiting for the man to put in the name, yet he was waiting for some reason. Why¡­ Why was it taking this long? "Excuse me, but why would I put in the name? That seems a small bit silly," Grunwald said with an uncertain laugh to accompany it. The man was clearly confused. And so was the one who sat on the opposite side of him, Cassandra not sure what to make of it. "Uhm¡­ during breakfast hours, you didn''t explicitly say the name of who reported it, so I am not truly able to write it myself¡­ Because I don''t know it," Cass stated bluntly. The silence continued once again, both parties looking at each other with uncertainty. "... I believe we might not be on the same wavelength here," Grunwald said after a few more seconds. The man was beginning to grow more serious, his eyes gaining the sharpness normally saved for more critical operations. "You were the one to write the report, right?" What? This wasn''t making sense. "No? You wrote it last night, sir'''' Cassandra stated, her mind filled to the brim with possibilities. There was something wrong here. "You said you sent it to the head office while we were in the cafeteria." "Yes. I sent it. You requested that of me last night due to you needing permission for it that would take time to do, which you then delegated to me due to you needing sleep," Grunwald said in quick succession, not taking a single pause in his speech. What was he saying? Cassandra had done no such thing last night, her mind only filling with the vivid sight of a construct¡¯s dissection. Nothing else had happened, expected for her staring at her ceiling for a few hours. Certainly nothing that would make her write a report, send it to her boss, and then make a request for him to send it on her behalf. The requirements for sending in reports were less than the requirements to send messages. Just what was her boss thinking? "No, I did not do that," Cass said. The woman went so far as to send Grunwald a brief shot of what she had been doing. "I was occupied down in the basement overviewing the repair of Jared¡¯s automation. No other work-related tasks were completed during the night. ¡­ Grunwald looked at Cassandra and Cassandra looked back at Grunwald. Both understood. If she wasn''t the one who had sent the message and report, just who had done so. "Could you have misread the sender¡¯s name? Jared is known for irregular work-times," Cass suggested. It would also allow for the error in the report. That man was not known for checking over his own work. "The medical machines were waking him at regular times, after all. He might have spent that time doing some work." "No, it doesn''t fit his writing style. And, I know who I got the message from," Grunwald said, sending over an image of her name on a letter. Somebody had sent it on her behalf. "Does anybody have remote access to your mail account?" "Nobody that I know of," Cassandra stated. "Then we have a problem on our hands." Cassandra leaned back in the chair, trying to figure out just how they had gotten her. It was all getting messed up quicker than she could even count. Chapter 366: Stickler
"Why would somebody even send in a report about this?" Cassandra asked. Something about it just wasn''t making sense for her. "Why not something¡­ more? They had access to a very important account in the system. Sure, they might not be able to access state secrets, but they could have pulled nearly all information about every citizen in the whole country. Why waste that opportunity on sending a report about a robbery?" And they had definitely wasted the opportunity. Whoever they were, there was no chance of them using the account again, Grunwald having been quick to quarantine, upgrade safety measures, and reset every password even slightly related to it. It was almost frightening how quick it all was, being under a minute spent in total to do it. At just the same time, the woman¡¯s profile could have been wiped completely. Quite the thought to have. "I don¡¯t think either of us would be able to answer that," Grunwald stated. The man¡¯s eyes were flickering around, likely parsing through extreme amounts of information. Maybe a manual check on the security walls? It was hard to truly know. "The reasons are hard to understand when it comes to people like this. They should only have been able to access your account through a proxy of sorts, though I can¡¯t see how that would have restricted what they could do." The woman¡¯s ears twitched at the very specific details heard. Or, it was at least specific compared to how much they had known a few moments ago. "You¡¯re saying it like you know who did it," Cass stated, righting her back up. It was serious, and she needed her full focus. If the man could know more than her at this point, it either meant he had more information or that she was slacking. And with the new access given to her, Cassandra could only point at the latter as being the true cause. "Any leads that I didn''t notice?" "I would rather call it a leap of faith," Grunwald stated, looking straight into her eyes with what could only be called a look of ¡®Really?¡¯ She was apparently expected to have come to the same conclusion already. "With any other group or person, something else would have been done. Anything. But, the only real manipulation that I could find was related to that specific report. No errors, no changes, nothing that anybody reasonable would. There weren''t even any queries or searches for information. The ones who accessed the database knew exactly what they were here for and left the moment they got it." An in-and-out operation. Clearly planned extensively, from what Cassandra could parse. That¡­ was dangerous. That meant something that she couldn''t understand. Even more, was that she had a very good idea of just who Grunwald was hinting towards. "It¡¯s the thieves that revealed what they had done." "That is the current theory that I am having. Reporting an isolated incident wouldn''t make sense if the intruders hoped to just make their presence known. They would have done something more obvious," Grunwald stated. The man tapped the table with his fingers, looking like an old man craving a cheap vociferate. Cassandra wouldn''t have been surprised if that was actually the case. His breathing had turned quite deep. "Which brings us to one important question. Or two, I suppose. The first would be how and where they gained access. And, Cass, what would the second question be?" "What do they gain from this?" Cassandra tried, that being the large thought that she couldn''t get out of her head. It was important, it was the most important, and it was also the one she was having the biggest trouble with. The search for information would have made so much more sense. Or, they could even have used it for less obvious actions. They could have tracked each officer''s location through the trackers, they could have sent out fake warnings, or they could have made each person think that there was an emergency in another city that required their help immediately. So much could have been done to distract them, destroy them, or create a larger problem. They could have leaked close to all vital information or even just copied it for their own gain. So¡­ why just send a fake report? Why send in information about the crime that they had done a few days ago? "They gained something. That¡¯s all we know without going into the realms of speculation," Grunwald stated. "We know that they wanted us to know about the robberies. Maybe it was to send out a warning about their capabilities. Hell, it might be a warning to let them have what they want. We can¡¯t know. We can only be warier now." This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The boss had spoken, yet the woman couldn''t help but continue her speculations. The idea about it being a warning was something that she had considered before, to the point where she had looked at it as fact. But¡­ what if it was more. "Maybe it was intended to help put a bad light on us?" Cassandra suggested. "Since the news stations were called, I would imagine that a messy street would cause outrage at our lacking capabilities from the public. It could be that they''re trying to destabilize faith in us?" Grunwald was silent for a moment, likely needing time to digest her words. Or maybe he just wanted to figure out what was the easiest way to reject her theories. It could be either with his previous rejection of speculation. "That would be possible. We need to make sure that the sight seen by the cameras isn''t close to what the street is now. Get back to the street and start cleaning the obvious parts of the stores. Or maybe put up protection in the window¡¯s stead. It needs to look professional," Grunwald stated. "If need be, you can take my automation with you as a helping hand. The work is growing bigger by the second if you understand what I¡¯m saying." "The extra help would be great, sir," Cassandra said, giving a small smile to mirror the one on her boss. Standing up, she clearly signed at being able to understand the mood. "I will get out your hair and begin the extra clean-up. Would you mind it if I took some items from the tool room?" "Whatever you need is in your hands. Just write up a report about it and send it over to me," Grunwald said before doing a mental reboot. "Wait¡­ no, don''t send it. Give it to me in person." That small bit of humour was their final interaction, Cassandra going out the door and closing it. Thoughts about what to do were replaced with her body moving of its own accord since the woman knew where the entrance to the basement was by heart. It was easier than expected to find from only one visit. Maybe it had given her the right impression. For whatever reason there might have been, she was able to navigate through the empty space downstairs quickly, going through the proper spaces and doors with ease. It took close to no time to get to the place she had known from the previous day. Or, she supposed it was technically the same. She had spent enough time down there for it to have passed midnight, making it so that she had technically been there that day already. Whatever. It was a small detail in the grand scheme of things. And there were more important things to have a look at. Unlike the previous time there, the woman had no trouble navigating through the room. The floor was nearly free of spots, pools of blue blood, tools, or pretty much anything that would stop her from taking a step forward. It was most definitely a change from the night before, the place having been filled with more clutter than she could mentally picture. She could still remember accidentally stepping on one of the metal plates. How annoyed Jules had been at the time, the automation not able to understand why she had ruined the perfect set-up. It wasn''t like Cassandra had been able to see the system of everything spread out on the floor, but the construct had apparently found some way to systematize it. Not that it was like that anymore, with everything having been put back into where it was supposed to be. Where exactly where that was was quite the mystery. Aside from the table in the middle, nothing hinting of a shelf or container or anything to put stuff in could be seen. Just where could they be hiding it all? Cassandra wondered about just that as she walked through the room, right over to the wall of dead automations. No¡­ that didn''t truly fit what they really were. How could something be dead if it wasn''t alive, to begin with? By that logic, a rock would have been dead, and there wasn''t enough time for a funeral for each of them. The automations were simply turned off, never having been able to have power run through their veins. And, there was quite the chance that none of them would experience it for a few more months. Or years, depending on how long the current ones would be able to hold on. It depended on how long Cassandra could hold on. ¡­ But not all the automations were like the others. One on the side, with a few blue marks on its hands, stood out to the woman quite clearly. It wasn''t the face or the body but the attitude she remembered it having. Always a stickler for rules, the thing had wanted to throw her out of the room when she was first here. Oh, how she knew the next moments of her life would be fun. Through the power of the brain implant, she sent a command for the automation to be activated. The effects were near-instantaneous, the construct being sent onto the floor, eyes barely able to open before its face was on the floor. It made so much more sense why Jules grabbed it last time. Not that Cassandra would ever do that herself, the woman knowing fully that she would be crushed by the sheer weight before anything else. In fact, the first sign of movement had actually made the woman take a step back. Good that she did, lest the fact might have hit her shoes. Even that could have created a few broken toes. "What is the reason for my activation?" the automation asked, getting up as if it hadn''t just face-planted. It clearly knew how to move with dignity after that slap-stick start. Cassandra was wise to not comment on it, though her face might have betrayed her feelings about the incident. "Officer Grunwald offered your assistance in my cleaning operations," Cassandra said, sending over the footage of the situation before the automation even requested it. She knew that the construct would ask for proof and had prepared herself accordingly. "Proof confirmed," the automation said without even saying anything else. Cassandra felt a hello would have sufficed but whatever. Her social expectations of the thing were close to non-existent, to begin with. "Please lead the way to the site needing cleaning." "Slow down there," Cassandra said, beginning to walk towards the door. The construct followed without a word. "First, we have to get some supplies. And you are going to carry all of it." How the woman loved delegating the physical labour. She needed to ask Grunwald for his automation more often. Chapter 367: Adjusted
The two went back up the stairs and right over to the supply rooms. Cassandra was not one to normally venture into such places, having favoured leaving the automations in charge of such duties, but it wasn''t like she had anything better to do. The faster they finished the cleaning job, the faster they would be able to relax. And if it meant that they in the meanwhile wouldn''t be burdened with the knowledge of the public hating them, it would be a success in its entirety. Success. Even the word made her mood lift up the slightest bit, the meaning behind those syllables making her mouth quiver. Ah¡­ success. The final step in it all and also the most important. The idea, the concept, the fixture of the world that was success was almighty in the woman¡¯s mind. Oh, how she loved it. She loved that she had the chance to experience it, that she would be experiencing it soon with her cards played right, and that she would have known it would happen. Her mind was in jitters as she opened up the mental list of the supply room, the location automatically sending information the moment she got close to it. Everything was meant to be efficient, after all, and making the brain implant interact with the room around oneself was only customary as a step. The technology was relatively new, but, damn, did she love having the power it supplied. Her smile nearly reached her lips as she looked over the different available items. A few were noted down as needed, their locations springing up in her vision instantly. It seemed that the room had been expecting her to grab them herself. A very peculiar idea from the system, since she was clearly not that pack-donkey in the room. "Time for you to shine," Cassandra said with a tilt of her head. The words were towards the automation by her side. Not that she even looked at the thing, the only real interaction besides verbal being that she sent the list of needed items over to it. There wasn''t a need for anything more, after all. Everything was great. Sure, there had been a few hiccups in the shape of new information, but it wasn''t like that truly changed the situation. It would have all influenced the outcome whether she liked it or not. In truth, she should just have been happy knowing it. And that mentality certainly helped keep her mood up. Thoughts filled up the woman about how to exploit it all. How could she use it against her co-workers, her superiors, and even the thieves themselves? How could she abuse the information meant for her? Truly an inquiry for the wisest, and more than just truly a question that the woman kept in her mind. It was exciting. It was a promising success. And, most importantly, it was a sign of a time to- "Why did you not choose the standard equipment for boarding up windows?" the automation that didn''t need to have spoken at that moment asked the woman who did not want to hear a single word of that thing''s mouth. A mood cleared, a moment of happiness vanished into the air, and a single cent of her feeling nice utterly gone. Her eyes felt like daggers, and her tongue was already sharpening for a similar cutting. "Your list of required items does not comply with protocol in any conceivable way. Explain this inconsistency." Cassandra wouldn''t have needed to do that with Jules. And maybe that was why Jules had been chosen for her instead of that piece of scrap that stood before her. There was no way she was going to enjoy the next few hours of her life no matter what. Silence had been a fake gift. One that had been taken away the moment her eyes unfocused. "The list that is standard is not something that I have any desire to work with," Cass said professionally, slipping on a fake smile and just as fake, bright eyes. She hoped the thing would get the idea from that alone so she wouldn''t have to spell it out. "The standard list is, according to the government, the most efficient plan in terms of budget, time-consumption, and discreteness. It is heavily encouraged that we switch to," the automation said in quick order, clearly not having understood the message. Cassandra considered an attempt at making it learn this lesson through the usage of pure force directed at the head. Maybe there was even a bat in here? It wasn''t like Grunwald ever showed signs of actually using the construct himself, so he clearly wouldn''t mind if it would be sent out of commission for a few hours. ¡­ No, she couldn''t do that. The woman had made the agreement long ago to refrain from beating up her co-workers, no matter how much she felt they deserved. And even if the co-workers were no longer human, the woman was very sure that they could still prove to be an extreme scandal and just as an extreme lawsuit in her face. Even the family company wouldn''t be able to support her having to pay the replacement fees of one of those constructs. The replacement for a decent piece of metal looked over at her, with Cassandra actually staring back for once. The woman felt it was at least decent to make it seem like she felt as if the automation was actually important enough to be listened to. Was the desire for constantly giving out very passive-aggressive suggestions meant to work or was it more a sad consequence of random personalities? Thinking back to how the general human thought of passive-aggressive people, Cassandra could only hope it was the latter. "The choices for picking the most efficient set of tools is widely subjective, to the point where I don¡¯t feel as if you should even see it as remotely close to what we actually need," Cassandra stated, feeling like her words were a fitting category of cutting. Maybe she needed to cut it back a small bit, though. "While the general categories are perhaps true, we are heavily favouring the category of time-consumption. We need to do this as fast as possible, no matter what it will cost us. And since the public already knows exactly what has happened, there is no real reason to make it that discrete. The only real limit on that side is that we don¡¯t make it sound as if small bombs are being blown up every five seconds." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Every ten seconds, however, was perfectly fine in the name of the law. How Cassandra loved knowing that detail, having used it once before during another clean-up. It hadn''t been as big and wide-scaled as the one she currently oversaw, but it was categorized as a larger accident, to the point where a larger number of steel pipes had been quite literally mushed into solid concrete. Getting those out had been quite the loud ordeal, as those things had been very adamant about staying in place. "I see," the construct said, looking as blank-faced as any other operating system that she had worked before. However, these systems did not normally have a face, making it quite peculiar that the automation that had one was just about as expressive as those who lacked the ability. "Your word will be trusted in this scenario." Her words should have already been trusted since she was quite literally the one in the position of overseeing the whole bloody thing. That was her current job description. The workers did not question those above, lest they would be shown how much anarchy could truly provide for them. Mindless beings worked best when without questions in their heads, and the construct clearly needed that battered into its skull. The thought of that violent action did bring Cassandra some small amount of joy, to the point where she didn''t really notice the automation going ahead and bringing out the various supplies. When she finally did take a look, however, it became more and more obvious that it was going to be hard to fit it into the vehicle. Maybe if they put down the seats behind them? Not like they were going to use them, and it would make some of the extendable parts easier to manage. At the current point, it was only the weight that was truly a hard point to accept. There was some bodily swinging as the automation brought out the heavier objects, making the woman wonder if it would truly be able to carry it all. "What is your maximum carrying capacity?" Cassandra inquired. She wondered about just sending the question over to Jules, but felt it was best to try making some kind of connection with the other construct at least. Making it offended with her side-lining wouldn''t help, at the very least. "The maximum carrying capacity is heavily dependent on the objects being carried. This is most notable in the factors of balancing, weight distribution, scale, density, and various other spectrums," the automation answered blankly, likely just reading off a script rather than actually expanding the minimal amount of time making something original for once. It''s not like she could even use that answer for anything. "Then¡­ in the perfect conditions, what would the maximum capacity be?" Cassandra asked, sure that there had to have been some calculations done. Such a useless number in any normal situation had to have been made to the business side to gasp at. Or maybe even the public in a few years when the automations became more mainstream. The automation looked directly at the woman before uttering some truly infuriating words. "Such information is classified and is not to be spoken of to somebody at your clearance. I must warn you that repeated attempts at inquiring about this information may leave you susceptible to an investigation on your background," the automation replied before going back to bringing back the final few items. Meanwhile, Cassandra did the only smart thing possible in the current scenario and imagined the construct being beheaded repeatedly. Violence might not have been the true answer but it was certainly an answer. And certainly, one that Cassandra imagined using again and again, no matter how much she wouldn''t dream of actually doing it. So¡­ it was totally fine, right? As long as she didn''t do it but only imagined it, then nothing would come from it. That might not have been as true in the time of brain-implants constantly reading the mind, but who could truly say? Certainly not Cassandra, the woman having much better things to do. Things like checking through the automations work, making sure that everything was there, and then standing by while being amused at the thing trying to fit through doorways while holding all the items. She was pretty sure the construct even made a small dent on the floor when it stood on its toes. Truly, the power of applied pressure was something that needed to be feared. Though, fear was not exactly what was felt when the two got everything into the vehicle. Everything fit in snugly, so it wasn''t like anger was the top emotion either. It was closer to¡­ a general sense of irritation. Yeah, that felt better. The woman was happy that the automation had simply shut up for whatever reason, but she felt unhappy about it, knowing fully that there were so many things she wanted to comment on. That blank expression might not have shown much, but Cassandra¡¯s pure imagination was more than capable of filling in the blanks. And those blanks showed off what she truly knew was there. ¡®Is it possible to adjust an automation¡¯s personality?¡¯ Cassandra sent to Jules, knowing that it was only that particular construct she even had a chance at getting a straight answer from. ¡®Is that a threat or do you want to reprogram somebody else?¡¯ Jules sent back quickly, though not as quickly as it normally did. The woman noted that down, having a general idea of why that might have been. ¡®I don¡¯t believe the reason behind my question should influence the answer. Can I reprogram an automation¡¯s personality?¡¯ Cassandra sent right back, repeating herself for an increased effect. ¡®I will take that as a threat then. No, I do not believe that you could reprogram one of our personalities. And, I also don¡¯t like the change from adjusting it to quite literally reprogramming it. You could have just tried to hide your intentions a bit there.¡¯ Bringing out the car keys, the two entered the car themselves. Cassandra put in the key and off they were within the second, the woman having the acceleration down to the instant. Though, there wasn''t any real desire for that, seeing as she wasn''t the one meant to be driving. However, certain automation had instantly headed towards the passenger seat, and the woman would have lost face if she had called it back. Hence her own hands being on the steering wheel. ¡®I feel that your answer was fully based on your ideas about my uses for the technology suggested,¡¯ Cassandra sent, not liking the insubordination but also not hating it enough to actually be angry. Maybe she was getting resistance to it? ¡®Oh, gee golly! I must not have sent my message of not wanting to lose my beautiful mind that well. If there¡¯s a way to do it, dear, you are most definitely not getting it!¡¯ Cassandra had to sigh. Even with the annoying words used, the woman felt a lacking desire to actually comment on it. It also wasn''t like she had planned to use the technology on Jules. Too much would be lost from that. Chapter 368: Interview
"Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s evil making it do everything?" Jules asked. "I think it provides a life lesson, so¡­ not at all," Cassandra said, wondering if she should have bought some popcorn. The machine in front of them was acting high and mighty while at the same time bowing down to a piece of a broken building. Quite the comical sight for somebody deprived of any real entertainment. Or maybe the woman was just a sadistic piece of garbage. "You are definitely among the bigger pieces of sadistic garbage," Jules commented in a low brow manner, apparently having gained the ability to read minds while Cassandra wasn''t looking. Not that she cared too much, the bloody likely having been able to know exactly what she was thinking without it. Modern information-gathering technology was simply too advanced for her feeble attempts at masking. "Just drinking refreshments while somebody drives away their body, breaking their backs, and constantly being forced to move¡­ how could you possibly like this?" "I like seeing people in pain, it seems," Cassandra stated, more sure about that one sentence than most things in her life. Being able to put out harder tasks for entities that annoyed her was always the greatest part of being superior. Even better was that she had a great excuse for it. Of course, the automation couldn''t get a break! They had a strict deadline to uphold. And, no, Jules couldn''t help it, because that construct was overseeing the destruction of the road clutter. Cassandra certainly couldn''t provide her own arms, the woman already stressed with overviewing the general site, keeping away civilians, and wondering about what kind of noodles she would eat that afternoon. About the latter, there was a general consensus about it being curry, but chicken curry was slowly beginning to seem extra delicious. Cassandra was certain that the next hour had to be spent on that and nothing else. "Not even denying it anymore?" Jules said, feigning shock at her statement. It wasn''t even good acting, making the sight even more infuriating. "You truly have fallen deep. First, you want to reprogram everybody to your liking and now you want to see them suffer." "I told you that I didn''t want to do it to you!" Cassandra objected instantly, not wanting to get into that argument again. The automation was a wall of opinion that refused to be changed. "It was meant for somebody else." "Yeah, and it was your friend that had trouble seeing the worth of people below the poverty line," Jules remarked, showing off just how much research it had done into her search history. A clear history at that, making it obvious that the thing hadn''t just perused it casually. "We all believe you. Don''t worry." "I wanted to reprogram that thing over there," Cassandra said, pointing at the other automation forced to put on covers for the many windows. "Nothing but that, I promise." "Of course, dearie. Nobody would ever have any desire to remove this charming personality of mine." If Cassandra had been a five-year-old, she would have likely have huffed into the air, made an angry expression, and looked away from the automation in feigned neutrality. But, she was a full-grown adult, capable of making adult-level decisions, which was exactly why she sent the automation the digital equivalent of a middle finger and instead focused her attention on the other construct within a hundred meters. Or¡­ that might have been a hundred and fifty. It was hard to truly tell at that length, the car and the seat within having been placed on the outer edge of the street. Cassandra wanted to be close to the outskirts so she would have been able to scare off the civilians without getting out of her seat, yet that decision was quickly proving itself to be without any other good sides. Her entertainment was quickly disappearing into the distance, after all. Even when the automations seemed human, the woman had to remind herself that they could well and truly work at inhuman levels, boarding up windows faster than a whole crew could do. And she was talking about the trained crews used in the big cities, the ones working together for decades to build up teamwork5+. Maybe it was the lack of physical restraints that helped? The covers were more than most humans could carry without being crushed to death, so the woman supposed being able to freely move them around might have provided a good chunk of the time-waste. As she continued her mental observations, the woman realised that even the augmented cleaners couldn''t do what she was seeing. The strength, speed, and dexterity were impossible without augmentations worth the city as a whole. Was¡­ was the cleaners going to be replaced by automations within the next few years? The woman hadn''t thought about it before, but it was beginning to look like that. They could do it all faster, quicker, and better. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The event before her was more than just proof of that. The automation was alone. A normal crew was about ten full-grown men. The automation could complete one full-sized shop window in the span of forty seconds. A normal crew would need ten minutes to do the same. The automation could then move on to the next window in the span of ten seconds, needing no time to get the tools up from the ground. A normal crew would have to bring in one of the machines from other crews to make them move it, the time for that being upwards of several minutes. What would happen if the numbers match? What could ten automations do when working together? They could lift a truck from the wreckage, could destroy the blocks of steel blocking crumbled buildings, and they could do it all quickly and without any need for other tools. They were the tools needed for most things, with the strength and speed to match it. They were the ultimate handyman, the ultimate rescue team, and what would truly cause it all to be held together. And they were also massive pricks that sometimes needed to be learned a lesson, but Cassandra didn''t exactly feel that that detail needed to be put into the inspirational rant. Stating the negatives to a salesperson was never a good idea, lest they could haphazardly mumble them to a potential client. The automation set on window-covering was slowly moving back towards the two in the car. Not because of it to ask questions or anything, but due to it having completed the first floor on the right side of the street. It would take another bit of time before it had completed the other side but Cassandra could hardly wait. The woman idly wondered how exactly it would be taking care of the second floor. Maybe a ladder? If so, they certainly hadn''t brought one. Or¡­ maybe it would just climb up and go through that way? Looking at the architecture, the woman considered the chances of that happening. While the buildings might have looked appealing to any wannabe climbers, the scaffolds were but the trickery of the mind. The broken glass on the outside provided little for the fingers to grasp, and the weird angles they were set up would hardly make it a pleasant experience. Mixed together with the fact that it was the middle of winter meant that only somebody truly depraved would even think of making the climb. Cassandra could hardly imagine anybody even doing it, then climb down being close to blind. And the glass shards. Even previously mentioned, the thoughts of those being forced into her skin made the woman feel crawling all over. Not the great feeling in the world. Though¡­ when she thought about it again, couldn''t the automation simply enter through the front door and use the stairs to gain entrance to the second floor. ¡­ "By the way, I don¡¯t think you ever mentioned how it went with your boss," Jules said, bringing Cassandra out of her own prison of embarrassment for failing to remember basic architecture. She truly wasn''t happy with it. And, oh yeah, she hadn''t actually said a word about her experience. "Must have slipped my mind, I suppose," Cassandra said, sighing at the old thoughts starting to slip back into that head of hers. How better it had been when everything inside was local embarrassment instead of¡­ whatever she was supposed to call the clusterfuck that was the real world. "Well? Are you going to give an update of some sort? Your boss hasn''t really written anything into the system, so I can¡¯t really be told anything without you opening that mouth of yours," Jules said, clearly not thinking much about how it was phrasing the sentences. A certain spy would have certainly commented on it. "There isn''t much I truly want to say," Cassandra stated, trying to distract herself by looking over at the automation in the distance again. Yet, her idea failed catastrophically, her mind already centred on the one beside her. "I went over to see Grunwald, we talked for a bit, and discovered that somebody had been using my mail account without there being any obvious way that it could have been done traditionally. " "I feel like there is some context to this that I really need," Jules replied. Which, in Cassandra¡¯s honest opinion, was completely fair. "The error on the report sheet," Cassandra began. "Grunwald and I originally chalked it up as being due to a decently serious computer error, but not one that we needed to be fearful about. That turned into a whole other discussion when we realised that there were some differences in what we each thought I had done the previous night. Grunwald had apparently received a message from me that included the report and a request for him to send it in for me. So¡­ when there was a difference, we began to understand that the thieves might just have gained access to the network, placed a report in my place, and did basically nothing else." A moment was spent making sure that everything important was covered. When her mind came with a positive, the woman waited in silence, knowing exactly what would come after. "... What, thieves that we very narrowly didn''t catch a few days ago?" "The very same. That¡¯s what Grunwald thinks, at least," Cassandra said, still not sure what she personally thought. At the time, she had supported the man wholeheartedly, yet there were just more and more things wrong with it all. Something isn''t adding up. "They, for whatever dumb reason, decided to be the ones that reported themselves, letting us know exactly what they had done." "That seems kinda stupid." "My point exactly." But, it wasn''t stupid. No matter how deluded Cassandra had become over the past week, she wouldn''t allow herself to underestimate them again. They were smarter than this. They knew better than to simply show off. They were planning something. Looking over at the other automation again, Cassandra saw something quite peculiar. The construct had somehow¡­ sped up from before. Its movements were that quicker, only being worth a few percentages. But, it was definitely there, and more than enough for the woman with the tired woman to notice. There were a few thoughts about why that might have been, but the woman ended up not questioning it. Maybe the resources were truly beginning to show their lack of worth, with time truly more important than anything. Looking at the time it was clear they still had a good while before the reporters would come around, though, so Cassandra had to wonder just why the change occurred then of all times. "So, the thieves were the ones who reported it, instead of some random civilian?" Jules asked for some weird reason. "Yes?" Cassandra answered, not really sure what to say. "That is indeed what I said thirty seconds ago. "Okay¡­ so, if it wasn''t a civilian who told the other civilians what was happening here, who told them?" "The thieves, of course. Why do you even need to¡­" Yeah, Cassandra suddenly had something she needed to do. And it would all start with interviewing a lot of people. Chapter 369: Brief
How does one get to know things? How do people get told of the ongoings of a town? It could technically be any communication platform. In fact, social media was the main source nowadays, the whole country looked at it daily to make sure they knew exactly what to criticize that day. This had a whole lot of consequences, such as the news put out that day having the chance of having been misleading and therefore not portraying the real world to those millions of people. Not that most cared, taking the news stations at face value. Because why wouldn''t they. They were the news station. The ones meant to bring people updates about the most important things they could think of. Yet, it might not have always been the most important thing they said. Not Cassandra, at the very least, though that might have been due to her own opinions not matching a good part of the population. Importance was entirely subjective in the end, and some people would be left in the dirt while others flocked in awe at just what that celebrity said about that thing. How could they have criticised that picture of a biologically engineered dog? The dinner-plate-sized eyes surely made them cuter! It was infuriating sometimes, knowing so much of what had been said was blown out of proportion to make them, but Cassandra had learned to live with it. When everything was to terms, it wasn''t like there should have been an expectation in the end. The news stations of the day were more aptly called entertainment stations. Every piece of their broadcast was engineered to make people interested. Anything dull, anything boring, anything that could make people click off was cut out. If that meant that the more vital pieces of information, those that actually mattered in the end, were cut out, then the stations would take it standing. Everything was about attention, after all, and attention didn''t come from being boring. And sometimes it went further, stations making up lies, blowing things up just a bit too much, or maybe showing a few recordings that were perhaps best kept under the radar. It wasn''t too common for the bigger stations to do things like that, the companies behind them having too much to lose at their levels. But the smaller stations? The ones that were in desperate need of viewers? Well¡­ a lie or two never hurts, right? And then when the lies were what gave them attention, they would never truly stop, never truly show off exactly what was actually meant to the truth. And those same small stations were known for copying each other, never having the time to fact-check anything. When you mixed inflation of truths with blatant copying of other media, what would come out of it? The result was a perpetual motion machine strapped into itself, creating a bigger and bigger amount of crap at an exponential rate. And just enough people believed it all to make it serious, some of those people at higher positions than they deserved. When that happened, chaos truly unfolded as those well-meaning tried to subdue it all before the assumed disaster would hit the mainstream. It was all the big mess it could be, only held back from a few stations having enough fear in their hearts to stay silent. That wasn''t the case when you switched over to other forms of communication, however. The rules were different, the words were different, and the ways that it all spread was different as well. When it came to it, there was one method of communication that had been used for years, decades, and millennia. It was one without rules, without oversight, and without any chances to truly make sure the truth was being spoken. It was the weapon best used when one wanted to turn a feather into a farm of chickens. Who could really tell who had said what? When one gathered a flock of people together, nobody could really be sure who said anything, who commented on it, and who inflated it into a whole other problem entirely. The conversation itself was just a long-drawn shift of topic, wasn''t it? Nobody starts it and nobody ends it. The conversation just fizzles out by itself, nobody truly at fault. In the end, it was just another byproduct of group-thinking, the human mind made to be acceptable about this behaviour, not questioning it too deeply. Cassandra would have loved it if people questioned it, though. She might even have been happy if those happy good-does could actually remember which house they had been at for tea, who they had heard that crazy rumour from, and who exactly had encouraged them to go down and have a look at the street of broken windows. The story was exactly the same with so many people that had come around that it just had to have been fake, right? That was the only way. They had planned it all to make her angry, to make her scream in their faces, to make her slap their eyeballs out of the bloody- ¡®I think you need to rest for a bit. Your blood pressure is not looking viable for any work at all,¡¯ Jules said from inside, sitting exactly where Cassandra had ordered it to be. The thing had been thrown away from the position of questioning people alongside the woman after it started to become more casual in its question if that word fits what exactly the damned thing had done. Jules, in all its mental wisdom, had thought it a good idea to reveal just how much it already knew about the person, and had attempted to use more forceful questioning methods on that basis. The woman beside the piece of junk had not felt that a good idea, no matter how quickly people talked after that and had therefore ordered it over to the car of shame, to sit in the seat of shame, and to be as silent as somebody who could actually feel shame. The last task was seemingly not heard, since the thing had been in the process of sending her very loud messages. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡®I don''t believe anybody wanted your opinion on the matter,¡¯ Cassandra sent back, nonetheless taking a few calming breaths to make sure her pulse went down by a few. Even if the mass of people had shrunk with her questions coming around, there were still enough to cause a commotion if she went on a verbal rant. Her mask needed to be kept, and no face close to hers could be anywhere near red. She was to be the calmest in the room. People were still giving her glances. More than a lot, actually. It might have been due to her angry look at the car further into the street, yet Casandra couldn''t get herself to believe that they had all noticed it. People seemed warier than they normally were. Maybe the questioning had created it? Some had left when she got close, so a general mood could have been created because of it. Her brief moments spent looking angry couldn''t have helped either, now that she thought about it. Best to get it over soon, then, lest nothing would be gained at all. ¡®Well, you got it anyway. I¡¯m just perfect like that,¡¯ Jules said, ending off the conversation. Maybe it realised that Cassandra had no intention of answering at that point or maybe it just lost interest with her fading blood pressure. Nobody could be sure what exactly the thing was thinking, least of all the person who had spent the most time with it. Looking through the current crowd, Cassandra did her best in choosing out somebody that she hasn''t interviewed before. Not literally, of course, almost all the people she had even spoken to already had fled almost running. No, she meant it in the way of body type, age, and general looks. The ultimate technique was called profiling if that makes anything more understandable. Or that¡¯s how it worked back in the day. Nowadays, it was close to making the system database look through the different faces and make it choose one that didn''t live in the same area as the ones asked before. Most of the ones asked before had been middle-aged ladies, so Cassandra was really hoping for somebody other than that. Maybe a middle-aged man or an actual old lady. Or maybe even somebody who wouldn''t give her an answer that would make her fight to not grind her teeth within audible levels. It was hard to ask, sure, but Cassandra truly did have a greater desire for- There it was, One young man named Elton, nineteen years of age, and looking like he wanted to be anywhere but within the eye-sight of Cassandra. They looked more uncomfortable than most new tourists at a misidentified nudist beach and the perfect prey for the information-seeking cop. "Excuse me, sir. Would it be alright if I asked you a few questions," Cassandra said, walking over to the younger man while wearing a prize-winning smile. It might even have made it less obvious that the young man in question did not have a choice about whether he would answer the questions. "I can assure you it will take no time at all." Fully intending to bring out full force on her act, Cassandra held her back straight as she brought out the notepad with an attached pencil. Never before had she actually used it for anything other than mindless scribbling, but it did somehow make people talk more so she didn''t question it. Whatever made them talk was the right choice. "Ah, I actually have to-" the young man began, already having taken a step back from her, but Cassandra wasn''t letting him go that easily. "I can assure you that it will only be a minute or two," the kind and gentle Cass said with a look that would make puppies fall over in cuteness-overload. The obvious desire to pull out a knife might have counteracted the other emotion on some, however. "There is no reason not to cooperate." And¡­ there it was. The magic word was called Cooperation. When any officer said it, there was no need to wonder if the civilian would sit still and talk or not. Most feared the magic word too much to do anything else. If they were a criminal, it wasn''t like they could run away or anything, after all, since the police were always able to get them before the seventh step. Cassandra could even remember some ad about that estimate, though she couldn''t remember where it was from. "I-I guess I can stay for a minute," the young man called Elton answered, not happy about it at all but too fearful to do anything else. "What do you need to ask?" "I was just curious about one single thing," Cassandra said with a smile, looking a bit happy that she had gained cooperation in the younger generations. Not that she had expected anything else with her skills in persuasion but whatever. "Why exactly did you visit this crime scene today?" "Uhm¡­ a friend told me that something was going down here, so I wanted to see it for myself. There weren''t any videos of it yet, you know?" Elton answered with uncertainty in his voice. Cassandra gave a quick nod while scribbling down the lyrics to some song she had heard twenty years ago. Slime it all away or something like that. It was hard to remember. "Quite understandable," Cassandra said, finishing up her scribbling in the span of under ten seconds, normally known as the optimal amount of time to optimise somebody being uncomfortable instead of bored. The young man seemed all too happy about her lowering the notepad, to the point where he almost began walking away. The officer, with a smile still on her face, was happy to stop that immediately. "Just for the sake of further investigation, what would the name of your friend be? More specifically the one who told you about this place." Here was the breaking point. The young man stopped, looking at her with uncertainty and then with a more blank look for a few seconds. Cassandra wasn''t too sure what to make of it, other than the silent defeat. Here it would go again, nothing gained with the only actual result being the time lost. "I am sorry, officer, but I don¡¯t know his name," Elton answered, making the officer in question almost look more than mildly annoyed. Cassandra supposed she couldn''t have expected that much more. Who else was there to ask? There was a small group of older women huddling together close by. With how they had been eavesdropping since the start, the cop guessed they could have had some background information on it all. Not likely but it was still better than- "Nobody actually knows his name since he refused to give us one. I could tell you where he hung out if you want, though. Might even still be there since I only left a few minutes ago." The officer who had never had a use for the notepad suddenly found a use for the device. Brining it out for real, she looked the young man straight in the eye. "Tell me where it was and give me a physical description. Keep it brief." Chapter 370: Trust
¡®Get the car ready. We are leaving within the minute,¡¯ Cassandra sent to Jules, positively jumping over the fence that had been set up to keep the civilians out of the street. The young man had been quick in the location and description. According to him, it was less than a two-minute walk, equaling something close to a thirty-second drive. Maybe twenty seconds if Cassandra allowed it to be a sprint. ¡®Should I set the other one to run as fast as you or are we just leaving them behind?¡¯ Jules asked, turning on the engine without even hesitating on the decision. The automation hinted at the fact that they were not putting out any orders for the other construct in the street. Not that Cassandra had any intention of that, yet there might have been an idea or two about making sure that it understood its situation better. Disconnecting from the channel normally used for communication between her and Jules, Cassandra mentally scoured the digital platforms for the one normally used for Grunwald and his automation. It was quite hard to find, seeing as it hadn''t actually been used before, but she did still find it within a moment or two. ¡®Jules and I will be leaving momentarily for an unplanned excursion into a possible witness of this event. You are to stay here and continue covering windows while also making sure that nobody walks into the street and gets themselves killed or something at that level,¡¯ Cassandra sent, the message taking enough time to be made that she already reached the car by the time that she finished it. She positively slammed open the door, lunged inside, and barely closed her entrance by the time that Jules had slammed the speeder. "Do you need to have the instructions on where to drive or can you just-" Cassandra began but was cut off. "I got a glance at the notepad before. No need for anything but you not breaking that skull of yours from the turns," Jules said, very strongly suggesting that the woman needed to put on a seatbelt. The advice was taken with a curse at Cassandra having forgotten to do so in the heat of the moment. Too much was going on, the small details being forgotten faster than they should have been. If anything, she wouldn''t be surprised if she forgot herself one of these days. The first big turn came with a very hard push to the side, Cassandra was only able to stay in her seat due to having belted herself onto the seat and by holding the car door with the grip of a titan. By this point, the woman was beginning to think her fingerprints were slowly being permanently indented into the car, with there being no way the force exerted didn''t have some form of effect on it. She had broken a door handle with that grip before and there was no way she wouldn''t do something like it again. "I fucking love this," Cassandra muttered, righting herself at the end of the turn. There had been a small need to be slow at the start due to the mass of people, but the automation was clearly testing the limits of the car¡¯s acceleration, putting them at something close to a hundred in the span of three seconds. It was heart-wrenching to sit through, the feel of the skin being pushed back a small bit more than anything else felt before. And the woman had flown in a jet before, so it was truly something with that statement. "I hope you¡¯re talking about the car right now," Jules commented from the side, a cheeky grin on their face. Cassandra would have given the bastard a shove if she dared, but the slightest turn of that steering wheel would have done too much for them. Instead, she just gave a glare of death. But it wasn''t like Jules was the intended receiver of her comment. It was more the general reality the woman found herself in, finally getting some kind of solid lead on the situation. The thieves were unravelled quicker than ever before. And if the description given by the person interviewed was to be believed, there was clearly some kind of a mystery at play. "Did you get a look at the written description," Cassandra asked, not wanting to talk more than she had to in the car. The pressure on the body was high, and she needed to conserve her strength for when it was needed. "Nope," Jules answered without a glance. Another turn marked them having been on the road for ten seconds, having driven more than ten times the distance that Cassandra would have been able to do in the same time frame. The wheels had been grinding against the sidewalk on the turns, everything at the top speed possible. It was truly frightening to be a part of, but Cassandra didn''t let herself be influenced by that. Brining the notepad out of her pocket, it was clear that there were more obvious things to get online. "We are looking for a taller male suspect. He wears a grey hoodie, loose pants, but his physical state is very clearly of a higher muscle mass. Carries himself with grace, a very easy smile, and clearly able to turn your neck hundred-eighty degrees within two seconds of being near you," Cassandra read aloud, wondering a small bit about if some of the details were subjective to the one that she had interviewed or not. If things were to be believed, then there was clearly some form of violence able to happen soon, and the woman was sure that she could be in the midst of it. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "How big are you talking? And were there any hints of augmentation?" Jules asked at the same time as a sharp left turn was made. They were almost there. "Anything that would suggest me not being able to knee him down into the ground." "Besides a comment about the height, we have nothing suggesting it," Cassandra stated wearily, not really sure if the intel was that believable. The location is very precise, though, so there was no chance she wouldn''t try that one. "But remember that this man is supposed with the thieves. We have seen what they can do when they have been thrown to the floor." "Don''t worry your little head off," Jules said, forced to begin slowing the car down even though there was still a hundred meters or so to their destination. It was truly one of the harder things about having a quicker vehicle. They were hard to stop and even harder to make silent when doing it. They had to come in with a surprise and having the possible thief know of their entrance beforehand would only prove to be problematic for them. "You won''t be the one getting close to him this time. You¡¯re gonna be leaving that to me." Not exactly, Cassandra reminded herself. She had a weapon ready to shoot the moment that Jules showed signs of being manipulated. Yet another skill the thieves had showcased was manipulation of digital devices, and there was no way she would allow that to happen on her watch. Even if it took a few shots in the back, the thief would not be allowed to run. ¡®We¡¯ll see if that¡¯s true or not,¡¯ Cassandra said, stepping out of the car. She had switched over to the other communication very intentionally, not wanting to alert anybody with her voice alone. She even closed the car door silently just for the effort of not making noise, while silently cursing herself for not preparing for the stealth-oriented tasks. The woman was mainly laid out for crowd control, not having specific gear towards individual catching. At least she still had some restraints, however. The location given was the inside of a few buildings. Not on the inside of them but more of the blind spot where the street didn''t hit. The back-side of the buildings if that made sense. Whatever. Cassandra just knew how to get in and she knew how to make sure she wouldn''t get seen. The inside of the blindspot was not open to the public, even those who lived in the adjacent buildings barely knowing of it. Maybe that was why it was such a popular place for the younger generation to be, though Cassandra personally bet it to be due to the lack of smoke alarms. The architects hadn''t really thought anybody would be there, after all, and hadn''t planned on anything being in need of warnings because of it. Not the smartest building decision, seeing as the younger ones could smell the weakness in security? A place they could smoke while being unable to be caught by the police at random? There was no way it wouldn''t be found quickly, and from there it was a gathering for nearly everybody under twenty-five. That was one detail that Cassandra needed to get noted down. The age of the people inside. With most of the city-population having left not too long ago, the variety of people inside had changed a bit. There were now regulars uip to the age of thirty desperate for a little hiding-hole, with some forty plus people able to smuggle themselves in without any real trouble. The one that the woman had interviewed was normally one of the eldest but had been put on his head due to the newer changes. Maybe that was why the suspect they were looking for had been able to gain entrance into the place so easily, the man having been described as being in the later years of the forties. Or that was how Cassandra had decided to take the comment about wrinkles from stress just starting to appear on the man''s forehead. Anyway, it wasn''t like it was too important yet, the two officers still needed to gain entrance inside without being noticed too quickly. For any normal civilian, that would have been impossible, the main entrance inside the blindspot being very obvious, those already inside able to see one coming instantly. And that was why the two officers wouldn''t be using it. The privileges of government workers once again fell into their favour, the two able to use emergency entrances on the side of the building. Yes, it forced them through a slightly decrepit part of one of the buildings, but it helped them gain access without being within the eye-sight of anybody. ¡®Stay silent,¡¯ Cassandra commanded as they got further in. They had entered through the basement, going through the main parts before going over to a back door that lead them up some stairs and into the outside. They didn''t take the full steps up, only going up enough to see what was above. The blindspot was more of a hidden courtyard than anything, blank walls being seen around it, no windows anywhere. Maybe the designers had not intended for anybody to know of the little secret or maybe it had been a much dirtier place a few years back. It wasn''t dirty now, since the people using it so often had done much to make it better in quality over everything else. They had even brought some pieces of furniture, a sofa, a few chairs, and even a small round table that could be seen around the courtyard. None of the things looked clean enough to take home or to eat on, but they were definitely still able to be used generally. The fact that some were being used at that very moment was more than proof of that. "You guys have to check it out to believe it," a voice began to be heard. From what could be seen, it was likely from one of the sofas. Cassandra couldn''t help but curse that the pillars were in the way, stopping her from getting a look at anything but their shoulders. "Everything was broken down over there. It¡¯s a crazy sight. The news is gonna be all over it in a few hours." The voice itself seemed a little rough around the edges. The exact age was hard to point down, there being much too cluttered. It could have been a younger person with smoking addiction or it could have been a healthy older man. There was no way to truly be sure. Cassandra needed a better look to make an actual assessment. "Yeah, so we have heard a few times now. But where is the proof? None of the guys has come back yet," another voice said, this one very definitely young. The lightness of the tone was more than enough to prove them being under twenty. And¡­ the fact that Cassandra had good luck on their face didn''t change that idea, the woman able to identify them as yet another teen on a crime streak. They had actually been caught a few weeks back trying to break into a tv-shop. "It sounds like you''re playing it a small bit here." "They¡¯re just slow on their feet," the first voice encouraged. "You gotta trust me on this." "Nobody even knows your bloody name. Why exactly do you expect to trust somebody that we just met today? We won''t have the furniture stolen again," the second voice commented. "It just sounds like you¡¯re trying to get us all out of here." The longer the conversation went, the more Cassandra began to believe that they were onto something. Giving Jules a nod to the side, the two began to creep up the final steps. It was time to confront the group inside. Chapter 371: Isolated
Blonde hair, a large build, and a voice that wasn''t young by any means. Cassandra couldn''t say she would have found a better match, the others obviously around being more of a¡­ thing department. Walking stick-figures, clearly enjoying the higher metabolisms given by the intake of certain consumables that weren''t recommended by any doctor worth their money. The courtyard had a good bit of it hidden in a darker shadow, the higher walls proving themselves worthwhile in this aspect. All the younger people were of course out in the sun, likely blinded slightly by the rays falling down on them. Even worse was the lack of care for their skin or health, some not even able to be wearing a jacket. Fashion was truly the real killer in the future of man. "I cannot state how much you actually need to visit, though," the blond man continued, rising from the sofa just enough for his curls to move around his shoulders. That also gave Cassandra a real impression of just how long the man¡¯s hair was. It wasn''t unkempt by any standards, but there truly wasn''t any real chance that it could have been perfectly cleaned at that length. It was filthy and the woman was not happy being within twenty feet of it. "With the windows broken, you might even be able to go in and grab yourself something nice. I hear a few of the shops were of the more expensive variety." "None of us are dumb enough to think that would actually work," said a girl who had previously tried to do something like that. Cassandra would have loved to shout that fact into the air at that moment but decided that surprising the people by getting close would be preferable. She needed to be sure that the capture would work. "We know there are cops there already." "Oh, yeah, the cops," the blonde said, moving around on that sofa evermore. Cassandra wasn''t able to truly get a look at the man, being behind him. A clear shot at the face was needed before he would have any chance of identification. "Those people aren''t something you should fear. With how few of them are around, it''s not like they could do anything meaningful." ¡®Am I allowed to hit him in the head?¡¯ Jules sent through the police channel, clearly having heard the same as her. Narrowing her eyes lightly, Cassandra thought long and hard about the moral implications of giving the green to such an operation. ¡®If you can make it look like an accident to him, I believe you are in full capacity to him as much as you want. Maybe even lose power in your legs and sit on his pelvis,¡¯ Cassandra sent back, already enjoying the mental picture of putting a bastard in the hospital for several weeks or months. And with how many of the people here had insurance, there was a chance it would even financially ruin him. Truly a worthwhile payment for being a right bastard to those who were only doing their best with what they had. "They still have power over us. I can assure you of that," the girl from before said, others close to her giggling a bit. A sharp tilt of her head to look around made that stop very quickly. Perhaps there was some kind of power balance in the courtyard? An interesting line of questions for when the officer would interview them. "Even if you think it¡¯s fine to underestimate them, there is no chance of us getting close to the shops before we all get caught." Oh, they were more than just right about that. Cassandra might not have been able to catch them by herself, but Jules and the other automations were more than capable of sprinting through a street in the span of ten seconds. There was no way they would even set a foot in a shop before their back was strained from being down on the ground and handcuffed. In fact, the woman might just have- "I think I see an opportunity here," the golden-haired man said. Sitting forward, elbows on the knees, and a head tilted to the side just a small bit. "If, say, you were able to reach the shops and get out again without being caught, would you take the opportunity?" Cassandra had been getting closer to being within arms reach of the man but settled right back into the darkness when those began to be spoken. Jules did the same, knowing exactly what the woman was thinking. Who needed to bring people in for interrogation when they very clearly wanted to spill all their secrets into the air. "... Talk. Now," the girl said, going into a similar position as the man. There was clearly some general interests, the people around the courtyard taking more than just side-glances at the situation. A few were even getting a few steps closer, just to make sure every word was heard. "I see that you are a bit pushy here, but I won¡¯t blame you for it. This is something you won''t regret hearing," the man said, making a weird motion with his hands. It wasn''t seen due to Cassandra being behind the shoulder, but it certainly made the girl scowl at the older man. "I am a man of many talents. One of those talents might just be that I know some things that nobody else does. For example, I would be able to tell you, at this very moment, when the entire police force will be so distracted that you and everybody else will be able to loot the street of broken glass for as many goodies as you wanted." Silence reigned through the courtyard, only wide eyes being shared between some of those watching the show. Cassandra even met the eyes of Jules, both beginning to realize that things were more serious than anticipated. Something was afoot and that was becoming more and more clear as time passed. Sending a message over to her boss, she requested him to watch the footage of the previous five seconds. The answer came within a second, ordering her to detain the man no matter what it took. The message was clear and without any small-talk. Cassandra would do her best to fulfil it to the dot. "How do you this? Who is telling what will happen?" the girl asked. From the first moment that she began to talk, Cassandra was already able to tell how futile the question was. No true manipulator would reveal their sources so quickly. Unless, of course, it proved useful to them. "How do you know I am not the one ordering it to happen at my own chosen time?" the man with blonde hair questioned. The tense silence was held up for a minute before the man laughed himself silly, clearly thinking his words to be the true gold of comedy. "Sorry, I couldn''t contain myself. It was just so...peculiar that you would ever think my associates would ever accept me telling you what was happening. I am afraid you will only have to trust me on this topic." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Associates¡­ likely the thieves. Or maybe the man was a part of the group itself instead of an outsider. No matter what, it was very likely that he knew more than the police had gathered over the last days. And Cassandra was going to do her best to make sure that information was within her grasp before the news reporters had a chance of getting close. "Why would you tell us about this? You have nothing to gain from us scouring the shops. If you supposedly know exactly when it will happen, wouldn''t it make sense for you to do the looting by yourself?" "If we were working with your logic, then it would indeed be weird for me to do this. But¡­ I have thought about this more than you might realise. I know that I know nothing¡­ about a few things. Namely the contents of the more hidden places inside the store." There it was! Cassandra could feel it on the top of her tongue. It would be coming sooner rather than later, and she would hear it all. She even sent a message to the automation next to her to make sure it was recording everything. They needed to make sure that everything was logged properly because it would all be used in what would likely be an extremely large court case. And her name would be on the recording, all the praise of the capture going to her. And maybe her boss if she couldn''t figure out a way to cut him out of the picture. And¡­ maybe she would allow Jules to have a spot, though. "What hidden contents are you talking about?" the girl asked. She was asking a lot of questions, but there was no reason to be annoyed about it. The answers were worth more to Cassandra than the young woman would ever realise. "Mainly the physical cash, a few codes to a large number of different crypto wallets, and then a few of the more precious items not commonly sold," the man said, shrugging a small bit. "There is one more object that truly means a lot to me, but I think it would be more obvious when it is seen. Anyway, none of you will even get a chance of the true values hidden inside those stores if you don''t accept my terms. While you might be able to stake out the place the next week to make sure you get to witness that window of opportunity, I have several codes to every shop''s hidden containers. The items on display might make you millionaires, but I want to give you access to the items worth billions." Money, goods worth millions, and items not commonly sold. The man was apparently willing to give it all away, willing to share it with a bunch of people that had nothing better to do than hide in a hole so they could smoke freely. Just what was the other side of the stick. "What do you want out of this? You¡¯ve been keeping that part silent with all these apparent gifts. You know the codes to a few boxes, you know how to open them, but the only thing you don''t know is what is inside a few of them. Is that all you want? To know what we will take if given the chance?" "Of course not. I might seem like the most courteous person in the world, but that doesnt stop the good old hand of greed from striking down," the man insisted. "For the price of telling you the codes and the time, I expect you to gather a larger force of willing people, search through a few boxes, take what you want, and¡­ take one item for me personally. You might not find it at first, but it will be there. The only price for my information is that you get me this item." ¡­ Silence pervaded the courtyard yet again. The people were looking ready to shout into the air, but they all were still silent, looking towards the young girl. The idea of her being the leader was cemented from that. "What stops us from getting the information and codes and then just¡­ keeping all the loot for ourselves?" "Well, I am a master of information. An example of this information would be the names and addresses of the family members of everybody here. I could list a few if you so desired." Silence yet again, this one more intense than anything before. Cassandra was starting to think the time to strike was upon them. ¡®Get ready. We will strike when I count from three.¡¯ Jules nodded at her, getting ready to lunge at the man. Already, the two knew who would do what, the automation focusing on restraining the man while Cassandra would have the task of general crowd control. ¡®Three.¡¯ "Then I think I wouldn''t mind accepting this deal," the leader of the small group said. "Do you want to shake on it like old people or is my word enough?" ¡®Two.¡¯ "I would have been the first choice in any other situation if I''m being perfectly honest," the man said. "But it seems that we have company that is just ready to strangle me down." ¡®One.¡¯ Cassandra struck first, sending a powerful light into the middle of the courtyard. Even the sun shining down from above couldn''t match the intensity of light, and the sound that came with it disoriented anybody who even dared to be close. Not the blond-haired man, however. Just before the explosion of loudness and sight, the man rose from the sofa, a click in the back creating the first drum of an extreme altercation. Cassandra wasn''t sure if it was activation of sorts, only knowing the sight seen after it. Jules lounged at the man. The effect expected was a man on the ground, ready to have his face pummeled into a peach. Yet that wasn''t the case, the automation grabbed and likewise thrown away like a bag of rice. There was seemingly no effort in it. An augmentation user. One with more powerful enhancements than Cassandra had faced in a long time. Might even have been more advanced than Jared. And the face. Somehow it hadn''t been seen from behind, or maybe it hadn''t been activated at that point, but the blurring of it all was in effect. Cassandra couldn''t see any meaningful detail on the man¡¯s face, it was all seemingly thrown out of proportion digitally. This wasn''t good. Jules was back up within the second, sprinting towards the man. There was clearly some intimidation in the action yet the planning was just as apparent. At the last second, the automation dived, going for the legs instead. A smart move, clearly hoping to win with weight alone. The thief was only a human, in the end. Not that it worked, the weight never having a chance of being used. Down on the ground as well, superior strength proofed a greater force than enhance protection. Cassandra barely had time to process the man getting his arms around the automations waist before the man entered a large amount of force on it. The loud crunch was not appreciated, with warning signals appearing in Cassandra¡¯s vision instantly. Jules was out for the count, somehow still alive. A finishing blow was never given, the man raising himself back up to face Cassandra for round two. Cassandra, not wanting to be close-range, instantly decided on the lethal force being needed. Bringing out one of her hidden revolvers, she spent a second getting the aim right. That second wasted was more than enough time for the man to react, throwing¡­ something at her. She didn''t know what it was, the force and small size making it impossible to know the shape before it reached her main body. And when it hit¡­ the woman wasn''t sure what happened. Everything in a radius of about more than two meters became fuzzy to look at, the whole world getting a layer of cloudy glass on it. The woman thought herself dosed with something fast-acting but quickly realised the layer of cloud had been put hard in the world. Even where she fell backwards in confusion, the layer remained constant. When she pressed it against it, resistance met her fingers. Putting her entire weight behind it did nothing. Using her revolver only gave her a headache from the sound. It was a wall, a shield, encircling her without any way out. ¡®Jules, give me an update,¡¯ Cassandra sent out. But¡­ nothing came from it, the message coming back with an error. Cassandra¡¯s implant couldn''t connect to anything. She was well and truly isolated from the outside. Chapter 372: Forget
Five minutes. Three hundred seconds. Cassandra didn''t bother with the milliseconds, the point already having been crossed evenly out. It was understandable how long had passed, the woman double-checking within how much it had moved every few moments she had spent inside that fortress of solitude, utterly unable to get out of it all. Then at five minutes, the black dot on her shirt fizzled into nothing, with the blockade around her disappearing with it like nothing. Nothing at all. Nobody was outside the bubble. Everybody had fled the premises, likely intending on getting that deal evened out. Or maybe they knew exactly how many throats Cassandra wanted to rip out when she got the chance. At that point, the woman hardly knew if she joked about it or not. If the people got close, just within reach of her grip, who knew what innards would fly where? Cassandra knew, of course, the woman being the one reason for their movement outside the body, to begin with. After a quick glance around the courtyard, with no soul seen, as a result, the woman positively lounged over the sofa, on her knees before the automation that was her partner in crime and justice. Jules, the automation that had been crushed in the middle. Even now she couldn''t believe what had happened. "You certainly took your time getting here," Jules said, the voice seeming so much more starchy than normal. It was as if it had been fractured in two and fused together improperly, creating an overtone of robotic static. The sound was like rusty nails to her ears. "Did my letter catch you?" "What are your chances of surviving me picking you up?" Cassandra said, taking off the layer of cloth that stopped her from seeing the things waist. While the woman might not have been trained in attending to the injuries of an inhuman android, she was more than capable of detecting bleeding where it wasn''t supposed to be. And¡­ she didn''t even need to be trained to see if it was bad or not. "I wouldn''t call it the most serious of things," Jules began with a few head-tilts to show off his impressive certainty. "But¡­ it definitely hits the top ten. Maybe even top five. Do you think they could name this injury after me, by the way? There wasn''t anything about it in the manual, so I have to assume the creators didn''t assume that this would happen to us at any level." The last layer of skin was the only thing holding back the blood from pooling on the floor, yet even it was beginning to show off its limits. The lower side was slowly ballooning inside, nothing more than a sharp edge being the cause being it all bursting. "How are you even alive?" Cassandra had to mutter, taking off her jacket and slowly manoeuvring it under the automation, no matter how many small grumbles came from it. The stone flooring was too dangerous while the skin was out in the open. "Honestly? I have no clue," Jules bluntly stated, doing a half shrug. It would have been a full shrug, but that would have likely killed it before it even finished. "I think the fact that it''s still technically inside allows the pump to still function in some limited manner. I¡¯ve lost circulation in my legs, so something has likely also been ripped out of its socket." A broken main vein beside pump barely hanging on, one or more main wires to the legs being ripped out of its placement¡­ What else? Cassandra supposed the burst inner layers of the skin could count, but she found it hard to focus on something like, the woman¡¯s mind desperately attempting to find something that would allow her to restrain the pool of blood in the event of the last layer of skin giving in. "I assume you¡¯ve already called for help?" Cassandra questioned, bringing out one of the smaller tape roles she had on her. It wasn''t the greatest but it would strengthen the skin the slightest bit. It would be enough for now, though she wasn''t happy with it. Even a plastic bag could have offered more strength. "Yes, I already did it long before you got yourself trapped in that mysterious circle," Jared said with what was perhaps meant to be a sigh. It came out as a gentle sound of somebody drowning instead. Not the greatest mix of adjectives when the other person near them was actively trying to make sure they didn''t burst and kill themself. "Great job doing that, by the way. I still can¡¯t understand how you did it." "It was not intentional. I can promise you as much," Cassandra stated, making sure there was nothing in her jacket that could prove useful. Though¡­ it wasn''t like she expected to find anything. She was fully stocked to shoot an army in the head with one bullet for each crotch, but there wasn''t as much as a single stained needle. What she wouldn''t have given for emergency patches. "It was hell in there." "Did you scream out constantly in pain from being impaled by sonic needles or something?" Jules asked, tilting its head up to get a better look at her. What exactly was the thing searching for? Stab wounds? If Cassandra had some of those, she wouldn''t have gotten to the automation to start with. "Or maybe it was all mental-based. Do you phycological scars that will forever stop you from being effective." "None that I gained in the recent hour, no," Cassandra said, praying that she wouldn''t get one in the next five minutes. "It was relatively calm inside¡­ whatever it was. Only me and the air. If you ignore the slight trouble to breathe after the first minutes, I don¡¯t see any form of torture that I was subjected to." She was subjected to being without information, but that''s hardly something she would say. Her worrying about what was going outside would only be the most embarrassing thing the woman could say, Jules more than just likely to tease her about it. No, it was written in law that the automation would do something like that. The construct would have never let an opportunity like that slip, The woman just knew it. "So you¡¯re crying about being bored for a few minutes. I truly feel bad for you, your situation is so much worse than my own," Jules said, moving it¡¯s arms about to make a pose that screamed ¡®woe me.¡¯ It was perhaps not the most perfect rendition, seeing as the automation was forced to do it on the ground without use of its legs, but the woman still felt it was semi-recognizable. "If I had the ability to use my lower body, I would certainly have hugged. Sadly, I am at a high risk of dying with every second passing, so that might just not happen." "I think we both know you¡¯re too annoying to die," Cassandra commented, not wanting to think about it. Even automations could become inoperable. While some injuries would force the automations to become inactive, most weren''t on the level of anything else. Perhaps a replacement of a few organs but whatever. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. It was nothing serious, most of the time. The automation was created with the intent of being able to take several hits. Multiple gun-shots directly to the face? Give it a night in the workshop, and the bastard would be good as new. Every limb cut off? Just sew them back on! The body was pummeled into a near paste, the arms, head, and legs being nothing but a gooey mess. No problem! Everything could be put back together, the blood inside the core retaining everything in its mint condition. But¡­ that¡¯s the problem. The most armoured place in the automaton''s body was the core, the stomach, the chest, and everything close to it. It was the place that could take hits from a shot-gun, that could be hit with a war-hammer without any real issue, and it was the palace designed to survive through anything. Because if it broke, then it would be the end of the story for that particular automation. The core was what kept everything going after all. The core was the brain, the heart, and all of the important organs put together. Everything in an automation could be replaced, only the core of it being the deciding factor. It was the only part that couldn''t be destroyed if the automation inside was to survive. And it wasn''t meant to be able to. With everything surrounding it, the designers had likely thought it the safest place in the whole sector of the police. The president''s cabinet wished for the kind of protection that the automation¡¯s core had at its disposal. But¡­ it was that kind of protection that didn''t always keep up. With enough time, even the lowest of chances were great. With time, even the hardest material would meet its match. The strongest would meet somebody stronger. And the defence meant to be impenetrable would shatter with ease, the consequences of such damned. What happened when a core was damaged? Well¡­ what was within was likely not going to make it, the software was too large to be uploaded into the database. Personalities were hardcoded into the core, making them impossible to truly move without some form of loss, be that memories or mannerisms. Or, impossible in the span of time given at least. Nobody could make it happen. "Who could have guessed that an extremely strong augmentation user would be among the thieves?" Cassandra muttered to herself, trying to cause some kind of distraction. Already, she had looked at the map, finding that a certain automation was on its way towards them. The woman had felt some initial anger at her boss for not doing it personally, yet she quickly realised that he knew just about as much as her. The only thing Grunwald could have done was to keep watch over the crime scene. Which he was apparently going over to do, which was very nice of him. "It doesn''t make sense." "Well¡­ it should have been on the list of possibilities," Jules replied, seemingly having grown a pair in the more deathly moments of its life. "We had an extremely serious possibility of there being a defence-based augmentation user. It doesn''t seem that weird in hindsight for there to be a strong one as well. Does make me wonder if there would be space for speed too. You should write that down. My own ability seems to be slightly¡­ nonexistent right now." "I would personally call that being useless but your excuses are accepted," Cassandra said, rechecking that the automation was on its way. It had so much time to get there, yet it seemed so determined to take so long. Was it hard to get through the building or something? "Though, the word useless does remind me of something. Did you get a look at the thief¡¯s face?" "Not even close. The dude was one white spot in my vision. I thought it would be possible to get the upper hand of him nonetheless, but it seemed that might have been an upper hand for him automatically. My mistake, I guess." The automation¡¯s mistake indeed. After that initial throwaway, Cassandra would have been perfectly fine with changing the plan on the fly, both of them going at him through ranged weapons entirely. At that point, it should have been obvious what dangers there would have been with getting close. Honestly, the man had been able to throw over a hundred kilos worth of metal without breaking a sweat. They should have taken the hint. "It doesn''t matter now. If you know where you messed up and promise to not do it again, then I must assume you have done as much as you could," Cassandra stated, her fingertips touching the skin of the automation. She dared not press her finger into it, only trying to feel how much the size was increasing. Her eyes were too blurry for good estimates, but her fingers proved that it was indeed still growing. Through the quick power of looking at graphs about the automation''s skin elasticity, the results were truly not that good. The current position was restricting the amount of space to work with, forcing the blood out instead of around the body. It wasn''t going to hold at the current for long. "Where the hell is that buddy of yours?" "I would call him more of a work associate than anything," Jules corrected with a tone that made sure to show off how important it was for the automation to not be seen as being friends with the other construct. "We might be made of the same stuff, but that doesn''t mean that much." "You think I could rip out that one¡¯s skin and graft it onto yours?" Cassandra asked. That caused a small laugh to erupt from the automation, though it was quickly stifled. No reason to agitate the blood flow, after all. It wouldn''t require more than a wrong muscle being tensed before something would pop. Even during their small talk, the thing had grown a good ten per cent. At the current point, Cassandra wouldn''t even have needed to lift the shirt, the growing mass of skin fully able to do that alone. "I don¡¯t think that would be effective or appreciated by any of the parties involved in that," Jules said. "In fact, it was just about as effective as me ordering the thief from before to stay. The guy even politely wished me a good evening before leaving out the door. The audacity of that bastard, not looking up to me as a student should. I was clearly superior yet he didn''t even take notice of that fact." At those words, Cassandra remembered the need for checking out the cameras. While the courtyard was free of any recording equipment, the outside street that people had fled onto was not among them. The woman was more than able to see the mass of people running, everybody scattering into the winds. With the help of the system, she was able to quickly get the name of just about everybody, including the different places they were hiding or walking. Modern technology was truly remarkable. When the woman got the chance, she was sure she would give each of the people a personal visit. There was no sign of the larger blonde, however. Not that this truly shocked the woman, the observation being more a tried one than anything close to shock. Whatever technology was being used to obscure their identities was stronger than anything ever seen. It was able to make decade-old digital cameras ignore them while also being just as effective on implanted ocular enhancers and the eyes of an automation, the technology for the latter being heavily restricted. The woman had thought about it many times before, yet the fact was still more serious than ever. "Oh? I can hear the cavalry!" Jules barely got out the last syllable before the main entrance door was blasted open with a sharp kick. The automation belonging to Grunwald had come, and it had supplies with it. Positively running over to the other two, the construct lowered itself and the various pillaged tools down on the ground. "Damage is extreme. The movement of the subject is impossible. A sanitized environment is required for a complete chance of recovery. A sanitized environment is not attainable," the automation listed off, Jules clearly rolling its eyes at the statements. Cassandra did not share the same attitude, looking at the other automation with more respect than ever before. And when it looked at her, she righted her back, ready for orders. "Please vacate the area to increase chances of proper sanitisation. Your movements kick up dirt and various other materials. It is requested that you leave the premises." "In other words, please wait in the car," Jules rephrased, though the other automation did nod. With a smile towards her, it might have tried to look as if it was reassuring her. "We will be out in a few minutes." "Negative. The operation will take a minimum of-" "Time is relative and I didn''t say any specific time-frames so shut your mouth," Jules replied to the other automation¡¯s attempt at worsening the situation. "Do ignore what it said and try out the comfiness in the car seats. I hear they are quite good when you don''t simultaneously fear for your life." That small bit of humour was enough for Cassandra to leave the courtyard. The inside of the building was barely noticed. Likewise, the woman couldn''t even remember when she lied down on the back seat with her eyes open and staring at the car¡¯s ceiling. Truly, it was a time she would never be able to forget. Though¡­ she hoped it would be unforgettable for the right reason. Oh god, she hoped it would be for the right reason. Chapter 373: Bolted
¡®I hear that the operation to gather information did not succeed.¡¯ That made Cassandra jump up in the seat. She wasn''t sure how long she had stared at the ceiling. Nor did she even care, only looking at the entrance to the building and its lack of automations peacefully walking out of it. She wanted to look at the vitals of the bastard, but the woman couldn''t get herself to do it, fearing that the result would have worsened over however long she last saw it. Instead of thinking about that topic, the woman looked back at the message that had brought her out of the previous trance. A message, not from Jules, Jared, or any other idiot that had a name starting with J. No, it was from Grunwald, the man likely wanting a quick update on how things were progressing. Not that the man actually needed an update since he would have very clearly realised how things were going due to the fact that one of the officers was currently in a very dangerous state, but that wasn''t something the woman felt any safety in sharing. ¡®Difficulties presented themselves faster than expected. It seems that they had access to more utility-based technology than previously anticipated,¡¯ Cassandra sent back. With the message, she included footage of what had occurred in the altercation. She mentally hit herself for forgetting to send it before, having assumed the man would look at it by himself. Not that he could do that, her files locked from those grabby hands. She had a certain somebody to thank for that. Some time passed by, the older man likely needing time to progress the video Cassandra had sent him. Which was fully understandable, the woman still not truly able to figure out just what had happened. Just what was that force field made of? It was possible to see through, possible to interact with, yet it had been stronger than anything else she had encountered. Even if it had been a momentary hindrance, it was still more effective than almost anything she had previously fought against. ¡®This is not something I have seen before. The technology either isn''t from this country or it¡¯s been made just recently,¡¯ Grunwald sent back, providing no information that truly shocked the woman. Cassandra would have known if a thing such as a forcefield had been created, the news was never able to shut up about it. The possibilities, the power behind it, and the fact that it had strong relations to science fiction would make it impossible for the main anchors to shut up about it. Personally, Cassandra was guessing towards it being a newer addition to a line of force fields that had been created years ago. The small dot thrown at her was likely the perpetrator behind the prison she had been in. That much was obvious from the fact that the woman had been unable to harm the thing in any reasonable way, the small object harder than anything she had ever touched before. And the fact that it self-destructed the same instant the forcefield keeping her close got destroyed, it was clear that some direct connection was present somewhere. ¡®I personally believe it to have been from another country. Our closeness to the border would allow some of the newer stolen tech to be a surprise for us,¡¯ Cassandra commented, sure that her ideas had to hold some precedent. Back when things of note actually happened in the country, raids would sometimes be made on the government facilities. They were far and few between, with even fewer producing more than a small report detailing the government''s triumph in their defences. But¡­ when it was the other way around, other messages would come out instead. When raiders were successful in gathering some kind of calcified technology, the military, the fire-fighters, and the police force would be notified of it, made to watch out for any clues. These actual descriptions of the technology were barely anything but a list of prominent features, but they usually made it possible to identify them. The functions listed were usually too peculiar to not be able to identify instantly. Which was the reason that Cassandra thought it to have been taken from another country. If something like a forcefield had been stolen, the government would have surely notified the regular groups. Instead, no such thing had ever been mentioned. The country they sat by might have told their groups, but there was no chance they would ever willingly report the same to Cassandra and those she worked with. The chances of vital information being leaked due to it were much too large in an event such as that. ¡®There is a high possibility you are right. While that further complicates this for us, it does give us some possible insight into who this group of thieves might be. There have been a few international criminal organisations that have shown capabilities similar to those displayed by the ones we have to deal with. While it would cause some questions to appear, a theory could be that this group is backed by international organisations or just one of them.¡¯ The message from Grunwald was not truly comforting to hear. An international group having a sting operation in some random border town? While it might have been a little harsh to swear, Cassandra couldn''t think of three fucking reasons for that to make sense. Why would they go towards the goal of stealing anything when they already had the backing of billionaires or even trillionaires? Money was not supposed to be a problem. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡®If that is the case, what goals do you believe they might have?¡¯ Cassandra questioned, needing to see the side of the man more. Things might not have settled the same way in her head, after all. Maybe there was some side she hadn''t even thought of yet. It could also be that the woman was mentally disoriented from the sight seen some time earlier, making it hard to think strategically, but there was no way she would accept that idea currently. For all intents and purposes, Cassandra thought of herself in an optimal state. Anything else would imply that she was being affected by a piece of metal getting a few scratches and gouges. ¡®I have none, currently. A larger group of people could perhaps have been hired by the opposing government to cause unrest, but these thieves clearly aren''t intent on things like that. Another theory could have been that they¡¯ve already succeeded in their tasks longer inside this country and were just about to leave it but was stopped by somebody getting hurt, forcing them to remain in the same position for a longer amount of time. It would explain their relative passiveness while also giving a worthwhile excuse for their extremely advanced arsenal.¡¯ Oh, the man was clearly perusing the edges of his mind now, Grunwald laying it all out in clear words. Cassandra had half a mind to lay back down on the seats, knowing that it would continue for a while. ¡®And I feel it might be worth it to note down their augmentations as well. I believe we can note down the other thief we met at first as being somebody definitely having an endurance-based augmentation. With the strength-based augmentation, things are beginning to seem like a standardized set of individuals meant to back up everybody¡¯s strengths and weaknesses. If there are any other people in this group, I would not doubt that they are either a master of speed or dexterity. This should be the last sign we need to switch over to ranged weapons entirely since they might just be the last safe choice we have during engagements.¡¯ There! The man repeated the woman¡¯s earlier thoughts about the group, though he went more in-depth with it. Cassandra was glad to see some form of ideas that both of them had sprouted, though they had been made at different times. Still, though¡­ The same interpretation of a set of data must have meant something positive. ¡®Going forward, caution is the most important trait we have on our side. With the technology seen, I will be repeating my request for reinforcements. Even with the other cities having events like ours, I believe the size of damage and thieves might prove to sway our favour. We might even receive priority ranking from the news getting closer and closer.¡¯ Cassandra was beginning to imagine the man needing to send a certain amount of words per second, lest he would die of lethal injection. It made the reality in front of her much more humorous, the actual situation likely closer to a bored man sitting in a car with nothing to do. ¡®I believe we will need to inform Jared of these changes when he is available for work again,¡¯ Cassandra commented, feeling the need to make some form of input into the conversation. Or, was it even a conversation at that point, when only the person was actually talking most of the time. It was closer to a presentation than anything. One that was boring as hell to be a part of, most of the facts already portrayed in some manner before. ¡®We will need to do so, indeed. However, I do believe that we will need to wait a day or two before we make the man enact the policies as well,¡¯ Grunwald sent back. Though, it took less than a moment before an additional comment was streaming in. ¡®From what has been gathered, the man is too good at stressing his weakened body, causing a negative feedback reaction that lands him on the bed again. If we send him out again at the first sight of strength being retained, I¡¯m sad to say the man will be put back down within a few hours time. He¡¯ll have to wait a few days for the healing to cement itself, no matter what Jared says about it.¡¯ ¡®I take it that he has awakened?¡¯ Cassandra questioned, feeling a small itch to check the time. It wasn''t close to getting dark, yet the buildings were making it hard for her to estimate the time with the help of the sun. Not too many hours could have passed since the man was made to rest, at least. ¡®He was briefly awake and talking. Without a fever even, though it did come back in some form after the initial minutes of profusely making apologies for some things said to the automation,¡¯ Grunwald answered. Even through the text, the woman could feel the mirth the man felt. ¡®Do you have any idea what those words might have been?¡¯ Cassandra asked, slightly curious about it. There was half a thought to peruse Nero¡¯s footage to see it first-hand, yet the idea brought negative attachments with it. ¡®I have no clue, to be fully honest with you. For the apparent mental health of the man, his automation deemed it a necessary action to censor what had been said from the records. Though, from the context they were in, I do not believe they were entirely professional in nature.¡¯ The woman had no problem guessing from that point. Cassandra might even have laughed at what she knew to be a solid gold comedy, if not for her chest hurting a little. Maybe she was a little stressed. ¡®Has the cleaning of the street gone well in my absence?¡¯ Cassandra said, changing the topic before it became serious. ¡®I believe we will be done by the end of the hour. All the windows have been boarded up, and the shards have almost been removed from the street entirely. The place isn''t close to what it had been last week, but it will be good enough for the cameras.¡¯ That was good news at least. The woman had been wondering- ¡®Oh, and you might be able to take my role away from me as the overseer. I believe my automation will be calling you in the next second or two.¡¯ The woman barely had time to open the door before she bolted right out of the car again. The waiting was killing her. Chapter 374: Push
The automaton wasn''t looking as fine as before, the skin around the stomach having been cut up and sewed back together in a more grotesque fashion. Especially on the sides, there were folds here and there, clearly not meant as anything that came close to healthy. While there was no blood or guts floating around on the outside, Cassandra couldn''t help but stop in her step after getting back into the courtyard. "You have not been called for yet," the automation standing beside Jules said, looking at the woman impassively. "You were about to do it a second ago, so I don¡¯t think that anybody needs to get in a hissy fit over it," Jules replied before Cassandra had any chance to. "Were you bored waiting, dear? The car must have been the most relaxing place to sleep." "I did not sleep in the car. I merely waited," Cassandra corrected, getting closer so she could see the reparations close up. The sewing was not up to her personal standards but they were clearly made to last. The material as well, the thread being nothing like Cassandra had ever seen. Though, the woman wasn''t truly surprised about that fact, constructs likely using a different resource kit entirely when it came to operations on the field. "Well, the hour-long wait must not have been fun when all you had to do was stare into the windshield. You didn''t even look on the net or anything!" Jules stated, sounding disgusted with its own words. Though¡­ that left one question needing to be answered. "How do you know what I did during the wait? From what I have been led to believe, you were too damaged to connect," Cassandra said, finally checking the time herself. And, lo and behold, more than a full hour had passed since she first left through the main entrance. It was getting closer and closer to later in the day, yet the woman had barely noticed the time passing. How concerning an event. "A certain someone," Jules said, smacking the automation beside it on the shoulder, "gave me constant updates on your whereabouts. I had a slight fear of you going off and trying to figure out where the mystery happened to run to." The automation had seemingly gone into explaining mode before Cassandra could even demand more details, the construct having grown used to the treatment need to stop the woman¡¯s anger. It might also have been due to her having troubles about her movements being watched again, the woman previously being of the belief that she had been freed from such a thing. "Do you know what restraints you are under with the new additions?" Cassandra asked, still on her knees next to the automation. Her hands were on the stomach, putting a mild pressure around the tissue that had been sewed. There was a hardness below those areas as if some form of metal or plastic had been put there. It might have been a natural dissolvent but it would likely remain there for either a few hours or a few days. Certainly too long no matter what to make it possible for the regular amount of backflips. Could it even bend down without there being a danger of seams unintentionally bursting? "There are some issues with lifting anything too heavy, but I believe we will manage somehow," Jules said in earnest, scratching its cheek in response to the woman¡¯s constant touch. The other automation beside them only watched on, likely trying to figure out the need for repetitive inspections. Cassandra didn''t truly care, making sure that the work was truly as fine as put out before. "It¡¯s not like I will be expected to lift any cars in the next days." "Be more exact on the limits. Are you allowed to lift ten kilos or a hundred kilos?" Cassandra questioned, getting up from her position. Her knees popped at the sudden lift, the previous pressure on them not doing them any good. Not that the woman paid attention, only moving over to another part of the courtyard to grab her jacket. There was no small amount of happiness related to the fact that there weren''t any blood-stains on it. That would have required way too much time to clean properly. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "It¡¯s closer to two hundred kilos if you really want to be exact about it," Jules said, to which the woman immediately turned her eyes back on the automation. "Oh, don¡¯t give me that look. It¡¯s not like I''m proud of this weakness either. Sorry that I can''t throw a tank like I usually can. Most people get issues like this after a bit of time. It¡¯s called naturally ageing, okay?" Ignoring what was likely inane comments made from a deprived algorithm, Cassandra couldn''t help but be yet again surprised at just how much that thing could lift. Two hundred kilos was seen as weak? The woman could barely do the same comfortably, and she was likely in the top one per cent of the world. If the automation could do that much while weakened¡­ it made a little more sense why the other construct in the room had been so upfront about the true limits being classified. "I believe we won¡¯t have a problem with that," Cassandra said. While there might have been some usefulness in having Jules help with covering the last windows, that part had already been completed by a certain other automation. Which left the three entities without to do but sit and talk. Not that the woman even thought about doing such a lazy thing, even if it would provide more time for talking. "When is the full recovery estimated to have been completed?" "Blood packets need time to get back in working order, you know. Just pushing more in won¡¯t do more than making it hard for everything involved," Jules said, pushing hands down in an air motion. When that explanation seemed to have satisfied the woman in no way at all, however, the construct continued with its words. "There is a continuous system of the liquid being transferred through my body. With that system having been disrupted very heavily, some stability will be needed before there is any chance that transferring more inside would cause me extreme harm. It¡¯s hard to truly fathom how this actually works, I will actually need you to trust me on this because there is no way-" "Sure," Cassandra said, not wanting to hear it all. She knew there was an explanation for it, and she knew that the automation could give it if she so desired. Since there was no reason to be angry or paranoid, the woman just left it at that. "We have other tasks at hand, so it might be best to get back to the street from before. Grunwald needs to be replaced." "Oh, sure, I¡¯ll just run up there and-" Jules began to say again, but the woman cut it off before it even had a chance." "You will be driving with me in the car. Grunwald¡¯s automation, however, will be running at a higher speed to let the man get back to his position in a timely manner. In fact, nobody would be annoyed if that automation were to begin this task immediately," Cassandra said, putting strain on the last sentence while staring directly at the automation mentioned. The automation in question started right back before getting a small glance from the other construct. Maybe that was where the message got into its head since it began running on the spot, out of the door before Cassandra had time to send a sigh in its direction. "It is not the smartest of the bunch." "I would call all of us average since we all have the same intelligence," Jules corrected, talking more along the lines of the automations as a whole instead of just the group that the construct was in personally. "Though¡­ some of us might use it for less efficient subjects. I use it to be the charming bastard that we all know and love, while my counterpart uses it to constantly review every single rule ever made in the history of this country¡¯s reign. If it wasn''t for a max quote on outset messages, that bastard alone would have crashed the national history museum. Oh, the things the idiot has sent as questions before. Almost makes me faint in embarrassment." "If you are going to faint, please do it in the car," Cassandra said, hurrying the automation along with a push. It was a very strong push, more than enough to have crushed most adults to the bone, yet the automation just laughed it off like it was nothing. "I am being serious. Don¡¯t you dare faint in a place where I can¡¯t transport you?" "Of course dear. It would be much too embarrassing for a high and mighty woman like you to request assistance another time within two hours. What would the powerful press think about such a scandal," the automation said, clearly in need of a kick between the legs. Not that it would do anything, pain clearly not in the constructed repertoire, lest it would have howled from the grip the woman had on its arm. Cassandra had taken the warning about the fainting seriously, after all. While she might not have been able to catch the automation completely if it came to something like that, the woman was more than sure of her ability to slow the descent, if she acted fast enough. And with the preparations put out, she was sure that she could turn a cracked skull into a mild concussion. "Just move it." "Alright, alright. No need to push that much." Chapter 375: Arms
The ride back to the site was entirely uneventful, the automation beside Cassandra doig nothing but making offhand comments in the street. The woman might have paid attention to such things at any other point in time, but the events from before were still on her mind. The things that had happened, the aftermath of it all¡­ there was much to be worried about. The damages done to the construct were inevitable. The woman knew that. At some point, Jules would have become damaged, would have received a punch that even the most powerful technology couldn''t truly get through unscathed. Only, she had been of the expectation that such a thing wouldn''t happen for a long time. She had hoped it wouldn''t happen for a long time. But her wishes were not aligned with reality, and it had happened whether or not she truly wanted it. Things had messed up, their plans hadn''t come to fruition, and a criminal had gotten the upper hand on a supposed surprise attack. Not that it had actually been a surprise, the criminal somehow knowing they were there without ever showing signs of it. Since there weren''t any cameras that would have been able to capture them, the woman had to think that it would have been some form of internal technology, nothing on the man¡¯s clothing hinting at extra gear. How would they bypass that gear? How would they get through the defences, if they ever met the thief again? Cassandra didn''t doubt that it could happen again. It wasn''t a matter of if or how but when. At some point, they would reemerge from the shadows again, and the two needed to have tactics against it. What had caused either of the two to lose the upper hand? With Jules, it would have been the strength difference. The entity known for its strength in close-range, its utter ability to crush anything with but a touch, had had its ability turned on itself. The automation hadn''t been able to hold a dime against the man, the stomach crushing having occurred without the slightest resistance. And, it had happened fast enough for neither of the two to be able to react in time. Jules hadn''t even been able to prepare an elbow in the face for the thief before it had been immobilised too greatly from the internal damages. And while the construct might have been able to technically attack after the fact, the chances at furthering the wounds already received at that point had been too great. It all started out when the construct got close. The one thing that the automation was normally using as its tactic needed to change, the act of being distanced turning into a straight priority. Strengthened wins were out of the realm of possibilities, and the lack of surprise would remove the chance of cracking the thief''s neck. Perhaps a kick from behind if the chance and need to present itself, but even that was a long shot. The thief would have been able to catch it in a normal situation, after all. Ranged weapons would need to be relied on instead. Something physically most likely. Tranquillizers and anything like it would be deemed largely ineffective. Strength-users had a natural constitution as well, making it hard for nearly anything to impact them physically. That had been seen with Jared many times before. Only¡­ it would be on a much larger scale this time around, the police officer having nothing on what could be seen from the thief. Revolvers had been chosen for use before, with their large calibre and power likely able to cause damage akin to rubber bullets. If such a tactic wouldn''t work, higher calibres would be chosen, to the point of using remote snipers. A long-distance shot from a more powerful weapon would cause instant death but would prove effective no matter what. The man wasn''t nearly powerful enough to withstand anything that was that big. Cassandra knew that from the fact that the thief hadn''t just taken the revolver¡¯s shots without question. At that higher level, even a direct shot to the eye wouldn''t have done more than creating an effect akin to a stray hair. Moving onto the ranged combat methods, however, there very clearly were still some errors with how such a combat form would work. Cassandra herself had chosen such a method of war before the two officers had engaged the target, yet she had still been bested within mere seconds of the altercation starting out. Why was that so? Well, it hadn''t been due to the man closing in. The thief hasn''t even tried, be that due to a lesser speed or a larger object being in the way. The woman just knew that she had thought herself in an area of personal relative safety. Cassandra had been sure that she wouldn''t have been able to be hit without first seeing it coming. And, she clearly hadn''t been wrong about that, the woman able to get through the fight without the slightest cut on her skin. The biggest injury had been her ears and even that had been due to her own weapon shooting in an enclosed space. Because that was what she had been inside of most of the time. Without taking a step closer to her, the thief had thrown what was the size of a small pellet against her, no larger than a piece of broken asphalt or a small rubber ball. It was barely able to be seen in her vision at the speed it had been thrown, and that was even with enhanced eyes. Estimates on its speed closed in at close to eighty kilometres per hour, much faster than she could run at a seconds notice. But¡­ if any of them was to avoid the danger that came with that small pellet, they needed to do just that. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. If the pellet came within one meter or less of their bodies, it would activate and create a barrier of pure force around them. While the composition was unknown, Cassandra was more than sure that it wouldn''t be possible to get through with anything they had on them. And that''s where it would wrong them. Even if the time that it held itself up was relatively short, being mere minutes, it would still allow the thief to escape without a trace. That was a loss no matter what. They needed to be able to avoid it. With how it was nearly impossible to damage, outright destroying the pellets was out of the question. Since it was likely proximity triggered, that meant they had to stay out of their range when thrown at the officers. Which followed with them needing to either move themselves or move the pellets away before they got too close. Personal movement at the required speeds would be nearly impossible at medium range, the pellet able to close in the distance from fifty meters in a matter of seconds. Jules might have been able to do it if already in a small jog, but Cassandra would break her leg-tendons before she would ever be able to accelerate at such a level. That left making the pellets move. They had to be shoved away from their bodies without getting any chance at getting close. Neither of the two entities could be close, meaning that a third party needed to do it for them. A piece of technology that was able to push away a small piece of material with high precision. Cassandra couldn''t help but think of a leaf blower, the wind likely able to push the pellet a meter or two to the side with enough power. But¡­ would she be able to activate it in time? Or would it need to be strapped to a sensor of sorts? Looking through the available gear in the station, the idea of air pushing it out of the way was quickly replaced with water instead. It would allow for both more precision and allow for her to actually have it within the next few years. While stations close to the city had something akin to wearable gear that could make bursts of air, they were too far away to be transported within a reasonable timeframe. But it was possible with what they had in the station, and Cassandra wouldn''t forgo the chance. If they could stay out of close range and simultaneously be able to avoid the pellets thrown at them, they had a real chance at capturing the thief without too many deadly dangers. Sure, there was a chance of the man still not having shown them all there was to see, but that didn''t mean they wouldn''t come prepared for the next altercation. Though¡­ there was also a chance of the man trying to close in the distance. While Cassandra was relatively sure of being able to dodge if given warning, the automation beside her might not have been as quick on the uptake. While it could in theory run faster than her, it needed more time to accelerate. Cassandra would always win out in a ten-meter race but anything above that would likewise be her defeat no matter what. While that small burst of time where she was superior normally meant nothing, the woman feared that the damages to the construct¡¯s body might have worsened the gap considerably. The thief would likely be able to catch up to it if given the need, and then it would just become another round of crushed organs and near-death experiences. Then again, there was a chance that the damages wouldn''t actually matter at all. There were problems with the upper body wouldn''t be able to keep up withholding a lot of pure weight, but how much would that impact speed? Cassandra would need to ask to be sure. "Look at that one!" Jules exclaimed, likely having found another fat person to point at. Cassandra had tuned out the construct¡¯s words a while ago, none of it seeming that important to mental learning. "He might just crush a bicycle if he tried to sit on it. Or his fold would make him envelop the thing in itself." Not feeling like the words were good enough in quality to even be commented on, the woman went straight into the questions lined up. Cassandra only hoped it would get the hint. "Are there any considerable changes to how fast you are now?" Cassandra questioned the construct, ready to note down anything said. "With your damages, I mean." "That¡¯s a very weird question to ask out of nowhere," Jules commented right back, the automation slowing down a small bit so it could look over at her. Though, that description normally meant it looked confused, angry, or in some other state of negativity, such an adjective wouldn''t have matched with the mild curiosity seen on the automation at that moment. "Why do you want to know?" "I need it for a report about possible tactics to capture the thief we previously met," Cassandra started with a professional tone. It sounded a lot better than her planning how to make sure Jules didn''t get hurt by a long stretch, though that might have been how the construct received the words nonetheless. The dumb smile on its face spoke volumes not wanting to be seen at any point. "I normally don¡¯t repeat myself but I think I need to ask this again. Has there been any noticeable changes to your speed after you received extreme damage to your abdomen?" "Well, if it''s like that I suppose I could run a check on the systems. Might take a second or two," Jules said, the thing¡¯s eyes briefly flashing a brighter colour than normal before returning to normal. Cassandra was mildly surprised by the event, not truly expecting such a change. Not that she hated it, however, the colouring briefly seen almost being preferable. "There aren¡¯t any actual errors coming from a full search, though you might be worried about my speed if we ever need to sprint upstairs. My left leg is apparently not able to reach as high up as my right leg. Nothing that will hamper running on plain ground or anything, but lounges on the ground more than forty-five degrees won''t be pretty for anybody close to me." The woman noted it down with a flourish, not sure whether or not the information would matter. Such uneven ground would require them to fight in the wilderness, and even that was on the rarer parts of the places. Most of the area around the city was even enough to not make it important. It would require more than ten minutes in a car before they would reach a place possible to have such steep hills. "Any other parts of the body that have a lesser flexibility?" Cassandra questioned, wondering if the ability to draw a weapon from the back would be hampered. "Perhaps in the arms?" "Nothing that I could see. But, at that level, it would require a hardware error, which would definitely have been noticed while I was driving this thing. We would¡¯ve speeded right into a pole by now if that was the case." The smile on the automation¡¯s face during that briefing was not appreciated. Chapter 376: Crews
They arrived at the street before Cassandra could ask more questions. Not that she truly needed to, the woman sure of her observations more than anything. Plans for how to handle the thief were properly sent out into the database and saved for later. The woman would work with her boss about them later in the day if there was time for it, Cassandra wanting some extra eyes on it. Human eyes, that is, the woman not truly trusting the entity beside her to have objective observations. "You have arrived five minutes later than anticipated," the automation already on the street announced loudly. Not enough for the would-be civilian observers near them to hear, but it was still much louder than the thing had any right to speak. "Explain your lateness in fifty words or less." "You realise that you¡¯re taking our speed from my personal average, right?" Jules questioned before Cassandra even had a chance to open her mouth. The woman looked at the automation, ready to question why she wasn''t doing the talking like normal, before just shutting up her mouth in mild curiosity. There was some part of her that wanted to see where it went if she didn''t interfere. "Yes," the other automation confirmed without a hint of shame. "Taking it from the general average of the entire force would be unreasonable and take up too many resources. Taking it from your personal speed already logged would make it more accurate to your normal speeds while also taking up a fraction of the processing time." "You really need to stop talking about efficiency and all that other stuff, dude," Jules said with a shake of its head, somehow starting on becoming a surfer without Cassandra ever having seen it with a board in hand. Perhaps that was what it had done while she waited in her car? The mental image caused a small smile to form on her lips, the construct surfing the waves of what was previously known as Hawai. That did leave her wondering if it was still lived on, as the woman had a small desire to travel there when she had the chance. "You aren''t being that smart with the efficiency and all." "I am being efficient. Less data equals less regression needing to be made," the automation corrected." "Less data equals that you are being a vain prick," Jules counted, clearly having spent many years thinking of that comeback. "How much over the average time was that ride from before when compared to the time I spend normally on the same route?" "Three minutes more than normal," the automation answered with no hesitancy, likely already having loaded up the statistics beforehand. The construct was more than prepared for the discussion, after all. "Three minutes and 4 seconds, if the exact time is needed." "Ignoring your apparent need for data needing to be efficiently processed, please do check out the average time spent on a similar stretch of road in the middle of a populated city," Jules gave out orders like it was nothing. The other construct just stood by with a blank face, making it all the weirder to see from the side. "Tell me how much above average time I spent from that." "You spent¡­ two minutes under the average when compared to all other cops in the region," the automation said, pausing midway through its speech as if it didn''t believe in its own words. It even looked a small bit confused. "See? Ignore the big picture and you start out on the blaming game," Jules said, giving the other confused construct a small hug. "With all that blaming being thrown around, it might not even be me who¡¯s the biggest time waster here. Have a think about that when you can." The two walked a few more steps forward, Casandra not looking happy and the automation beside her being as stoic as ever. They even looked at each other, nodding with a professional tone, before walking almost fifty meters more forward. Then they cracked, finding the reality of the situation more surreal than anything. It might have been due to the woman being extremely stressed the entire day since death had been around the corner in more ways than one, but she just couldn''t help but share the automations way of humour. It was the funniest spectacle she had seen in such a long time. Even knowing that none of it was meant to be funny in any real way, she just couldn''t help but almost fall to her knees. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Jules was in a similar state, all laughs and giggles and troubles with the knees. The two would have fallen in a heap if not for grabbing each other''s shoulders to hold themselves upright. How exactly two unbalanced people equalled out to complete balance occurred was a complete mystery to both, but it wasn''t like either of them actually questioned it. "You know, the fact that it¡¯s actively trying to create an algorithm for what I would say in any situation just makes it all the worse?" Jules said, wiping away a non-existent tear away from its eyes. Or maybe it just didn''t notice it''s lacking the ability to currently cry. It could have been either, Cassandra certainly having a few of those droplets she needed to have removed with her own fingers. It had been the first time tears had been there in a long time. She couldn''t have been happier that it wasn''t for any other reason that they appeared. "Can¡¯t figure out that it just needs to think a bit more about things." "We must all have some flaws," Cassandra said, getting back into her usual mask. She was way too distracted, a shake of her head ridding her of all that might have caused some form of distractions. No personal ideas, no personal actions, and no personal fantasies. All fantasise during work-hours were only allowed to be related to the death, incarceration, and brutal beating of criminals. Anything else was out of line and able to cause pots to be stirred. "With some¡­ they might be greater than others. While we can point fingers, something must be done to fix the rough edges." The automation standing still in the distance clearly needed something done, be that a long conversation with it or some kind of class on how to operate effectively instead of efficiently. The thing had started becoming more than a little annoying, thinking itself higher and mightier through cutting the corners with everything. Though¡­ there might have been one thing that the construct had not done the same with. "I already did give the bastard a lot of help. Told it where the flaws were, pointed it out real good, and even gave a few lessons on what to do instead. You might not have heard that part of the conversation, seeing as it was mainly through info-packets, but you should have heard the main points well enough," Jules said, saying a few things that might have been very interesting for the woman to hear. Not that Cassandra truly did, her ears just about shut completely from the outside world. Her eyes were the focus, the woman looking around the street with a very strong gaze. The street was cleaner than ever before. The woman had driven down the very road she stood on weeks ago, glancing at it at the time. Back then, it hadn''t been too bad, only having the occasional piece of trash lying around. Mix that in with a large amount of dirt having reached the sides of the road, however, and one would have a place that couldn''t be stood on without a small grimace. While it might not have been the worst place in cleanliness, it didn''t truly match the shops that sat on the street. That had changed now. The mess of ice and glass that had been seen previously had all but disappeared, likely transported far away by the multitude of little workers. Not that those robots were there anymore even, those having disappeared as well. Though¡­ that might have been due to there being so little left to do. The street was clean. It was cleaner than anything seen before. It practically shone with how clean it was, no speck of dirt seen anywhere. The sides had been sprayed or something like it, all the dirt having been removed meticulously. It was as close to an epic fantasy that the city could have possibly done. Only the shops brought it down, though not by much. With no ability to see any hint of destroyed glass on the floor, it was hard to believe that anything had been broken into. The dark covering of any previous window or glass pane was more than effective in making it impossible to glance at anything the thieves had left behind. Though¡­ the sheer amount of things that should have been covered up to give the effect was more than Cassandra could count. The pane placements ranged so wildly in height and size that the woman had trouble believing that a single automation had completed it alone. "How long did the automation work on covering everything up?" Cassandra asked, still not having realised what the automation had said before. And so it would likely remain, with how the construct beside her sighed. "About forty minutes," Jules answered, looking around with a whistling sound in the thing''s mouth. "While I might not like everything it¡¯s done, you can¡¯t say it was bad at this task. I guess having an extremely repetitive task leaves room for improvement over time." "Just how much did it improve?" Cassandra questioned with narrowed eyes. Forty minutes with the number of panes in plain view¡­ she wasn''t sure about the exact number, but it had to be extremely quick. "Quite a bit. Hold on one second," Jules said, likely pulling up some piece of data from the archives. "Ah, here it is. With a minute-by-minute comparison of speed, the automation improved in speed by five per cent each minute. I guess that added up after a while." It indeed was. Cassandra could only hope that Jules was looking at an average improvement scale rather than anything else. The sheer speed at the end must have been more than most could react much less use efficiently. It truly was a scary thought to have been close to. The woman wondered about pulling up the footage from the event but thought better of it. She didn''t need her day ruined that much. "Is there anything else we need to do?" Cassandra asked the automation, not having paid too much attention to what was going on. "We have the clean-up done, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯re meant to leave the place." "Indeed we aren''t," Jules said with a smile. "We have the privilege of sitting on our asses, making sure nobody makes a run to get inside, and wait until the camera crews come running along." ¡­ Somehow, that didn''t sound too bad. Cassandra had been wanting to do nothing but sit around. It was a good thing she had packed a few packets of food when filling up the car. Chapter 377: Show
Saying that the two would sit around doing nothing was a slight exaggeration. Sure, the first three hours might have been filled with nothing but Cassandra having to keep up with an automation dead-set on annoying her till the end of days, yet the time after that was filled with unimaginable stress. Civilians had started showing up after the first hour of them sitting around doing nothing. It seemed that the lack of any broken windows and littered streets couldn''t keep people mentally fulfilled, making them all leave slowly but decisively. The two didn''t even need to go out and warn anybody away, everything leaving of their own accord. If that wasn''t a good sign, Cassandra wasn''t sure what it could have been called. And that lack of civilians made it that much easier to have the news-cars get onto the street, the barricades set up to keep the populace out without reason at that point. Not that the police had really needed to remove those barricades, the news vehicles having seemed ready to drive right over them instead of slowing down. This, of course, wasn''t allowed at any point in the day, and the police were quick to criticize the news crews for their lack of safety while also allowing them into the shopping street. "And you are sure that this is the street?" A tall blonde woman in a tight dress asked for what felt like the thirtieth time in that same hour. She was the head-reporter of some agency that Cassandra couldn''t get herself to bother to remember the name of, the name just floating out of her ear the same time it was heard. Animals were hard to remember no matter how many times she heard it. "This isn''t the first time you people have been incompetent enough to barricade the wrong street." The woman in question was kind enough to raise an eyebrow at the sheer audacity of that bitch instead of slapping her into the next decade. Cassandra was not the calmest of people, especially not when it came to talking with people that automatically thought themself raised over others, but even she knew the consequences of hitting a news reporter while being filmed by a high-tier film crew. While they might have tried to make it casual, it was very obvious that the already-set-up camera pointed their way was on. Her search into their machines had said as much. "I can assure you that this is the correct street, ma¡¯am," Cassandra said, being sure to be respectful to the elderly, even if the elderly didn''t realise just how many wrinkles they had and how little the makeup was hiding it. "I was one of the people who personally oversaw it being cleaned." "Of course you were. Everybody has a part in everything, nobody wants to be a part of this shitty place. Nobody¡¯s surprised about your extra shift as the janitor of all things," the woman muttered, clearly not understanding how close by a dark alley was. While Cassandra might not have had a knife on hand, she was sure the automation in the car could get her one within the hour. As was clear to many, Jules had not been allowed to get out of the car, even if the construct had shown great desire towards it. Cassandra, Grunwald, and pretty much every sane being in the entire world could easily see the PR disaster it would be if that particular automation was to be shown to the country. Even if it would promote bringing back humans in the force, it would similarly cause every human currently on the force in that district to lose their jobs. No politician would take that slap lying down. "I assure you that everybody here is both equipped for every task and have great hearing, even if certain microphones might not be able to pick it up," Cassandra said with a smile, though she immediately regretted it. Her tongue had gotten the better of her, the off-hand glance from the reporter not saying anything positive. Only keeping up the smile at a bare minimum, the woman knew she had to retreat. "If you will excuse me, I believe there are other places that require my attention." Cassandra began to walk away, thinking about just what she could do to occupy her time. There were a few film crews that seemed to be in a rapid discussion, some shoving even occurring. While she would not normally trifle with such small scuffle, it wouldn''t be too bad an idea to- "Not so fast there, lady. The two of us are not done until I say so," the news reporter who thought she was hot shit stated, clearly not understanding that her grabbing Cassandra¡¯s uniform gave the office full permission to dropkick her without question. Not that the police officer in question had any intention of that, the ability to do that being saved for later. Although, Cassandra did note down the time-stamp if there was any need to ever show off the annoying side of the reporter. The woman was sure it wouldn''t do good for the general population to see the current side. "What would need to be done for you to say so?" Cassandra questioned with yet another prize-winning smile. Though, the price she would win for it might not have been anything positive, her shining teeth being less hospitable than the fangs of a rabid dog. "I recommend it to be quick due to my duties soon calling for me." "Your duties are what I need you to do," the reporter said, clearly not seeing any reason. Some people just wanted to break felonies they had never heard of, Cassandra listing off more and more things she could arrest the woman for. Impersonation of a police sergeant was quite the offence if the database had anything to say about it. Up to fifteen years in prison, depending on the severity. Stopping an officer from tending to a case of physical violence among civilians in favour of unrelated and unimportant tasks? That was at least ten years behind bars, with a minimum of seven of them being served. "And what do you need me to do?" Cassandra replied, wanting the conversation to continue so she could get out of being close to that bag of cheap filth. Plastic was the main ingredient of that reporter. If Jules had been close, it would have seen the reporter as one of its own. Even the skin had gotten replacements on the face to remove the freckles. Just how perfect did one need to look? It was closer to creepy than anything. "This street," the reporter said, waving her right hand around in a circle. Cassandra spent the next few seconds looking around the place, glad to have an excuse to look away and accidentally not pay attention to a word being said. It wasn''t too hard to do, the one blabbing on being both extremely annoying and so much less interesting than the fact that the street was still keeping up its beauty, even if a few cars had screeched to a halt on it. Those robots had truly done their job well, leaving the place as spotless as any street could ever hope to be. "It is too clean." The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Too clean?" Cassandra repeated in confusion, not sure what was being said. Had the views on sanitisation changed in the months she had been away from the big city? Was being filthy suddenly the new trend? "Yes! This place is spotless. Where was that supposed road of glass shards? Where is the mountain of ice that could cause serious tears in the skin if fallen upon? The crews are all here to film it, and there¡¯s nothing to film!" the news reporter pretty much screamed in Cassandra''s face. Somehow, all the spittle never reached the woman, everything reaching the ground instead. Cassandra didn''t feel that the ground deserved to be treated in such a fashion. "Ma¡¯am, we did our best to clean up this street. Leaving the glass shards out on the ground, able for everybody to fall on them, would be a serious risk for everybody involved. It is our duty as officers to-" Cassandra began, but the news reporter just loudly huffed at her in anger as if the woman had said some insult. Just¡­ what? "That isn''t going to work!" the reporter shouted right back. "Bring out the shards right this instant or you will lose your job!" What? Was¡­ was Cassandra being threatened with the goal of her doing something that would endanger the population to an extreme degree. Did the reporter want somebody to be injured? What was wrong with people? "I am afraid I can¡¯t do that, lady," Cassandra said, not wanting to use titles that would be in a similar vein to the elderly anymore. The elderly didn''t deserve to be put in the same box as the reporter, after all. "All the glass shards on the street has been carted off and disposed of safely. Bringing in it back would prove to be an extreme waste of resources of time and-" "I do not want you to bring back the old shards, you idiot," the reporter screamed. Cassandra gave a glance around, finding that nobody was actually paying attention to what was happening. This was likely a rather common thing. "There¡¯s still plenty of shards in the shop. Go inside and grab some of those and then scatter them on the street." She was serious. The lady in front of Cassandra was being utterly and truly serious. Cassandra checked through previous police interactions with the woman, nearly all officers before her leaving comments on similar behaviour. Just how many had bent under that attitude? "That is not possible to do," Cassandra said, speaking with a now more serious tone. It was suddenly becoming something much more serious. "Doing so would be a criminal offence." "Why? There were already glass shards there before!" the reporter said. Cassandra had a strong point to give, but she wasn''t even allowed to speak, the reporter holding up a hand instantly. "Don¡¯t even think about saying anything else. Call your leader, sergeant, or whatever you have out in these junkyards, and bring them over here. I need to speak with them within this minute or you will lose your job." That was an excuse to leave that god-awful conversation, and damn it was Cassandra going to use it. Her retreat might have been what a normal person would have called a light jog, but it wasn''t like that mattered that much to the woman. She just wanted to get away from that damned attitude. Though¡­ she likewise didn''t want to anger the reporter. In the end, that woman was the one who would speak on behalf of the crime. And while there would undoubtedly be smiles and giggles, that wouldn''t stop her in the slightest in criticizing the place to heaven and beyond. A sympathetic story could easily be twisted into something that would put the police in a very bad light, and Cassandra was sure that such would be done if even the woman¡¯s coffee was the slightest bit too cold. ¡®Sir, there is a reporter that desires to speak with you. Is there an estimate on when you will be able to reach the site,¡¯ Cassandra sent her boss, a bit annoyed at the man for still not having shown up. They were supposed to go live in ten minutes, yet something was clearly more important than letting them keep their future careers. ¡®Of course, there would be somebody like that. I will be down there in a minute. I just had to finish up on last-minute paperwork,¡¯ Grunwald sent back, likely not intending to have included the first bit. But, purely using mental messaging and having a distracted mind did not always grant entirely positive results, and some parts were always possible to let slip through no matter how little intention there was to have them in. With that done, Cassandra had no real reason to pay much attention to what was happening. The light scuffle glanced at before had stopped as soon as she started moving towards it, both parties on it moving to each side. Not that such a thing had stopped the woman from getting each of their names, but it wasn''t like Cassandra would use it for anything. Both clearly knew what they were doing and had likely done it before. Nobody got hurt enough for her to put it on anybody¡¯s permanent record. Sighing heavier than a lot of times before that day, the woman began to move towards her car. With all the crews with their cameras, there was no real desire to be out and about. If she stayed standing, somebody would come over and take panoramic shots. If she talked with anybody about what they were allowed to do, she would be photographed and titled an angry old lady. And if she looked angry, she could be devised in the media. Nothing would end positively for her, making it all smarter to just go someplace where the video wouldn''t follow. That was where the car came in, it being so great. With a few settings on, any part of it would be automatically blurred in the official video. No matter what face she made inside it, the news stations couldn''t use it for a hit. Which was precisely why she said some very bad words, angrily shouting all at the same time, the very seconds that she closed the door. Some of the things said in those first moments would have made sailors whimper in fear. It was not a proud time for the woman. "Do you want a vitamin or something?" Jules asked from the back. The construct had not wanted to even be within the eyesight of those outside, therefore manoeuvring itself to be lying on the seats. Cassandra had personally lied there in an almost identical fashion only a few hours before, though she had had more difficulty in lying there. Even if it was supposedly damaged, that construct was more flexible than the woman could ever hope to be. "I need you to be quiet," Cassandra said, rejecting the idea before anything else. Her mind was tired but her body was ready for the next thirty rounds of being shouted at. Her time in the force had made her accustomed to it, even if her time on the outskirts had put her slightly out of practice. "Message received and ignored," the automation answered, getting up on its side to face her more easily. "Hard day talking to idiots?" "The idiots would be angry if you thought those bastards out there were related to them," Cassandra said, frowning her brows at how much she had used that comparison as of late. Where was she getting that from? "Well¡­ I guess you can relish in them being done in a few minutes. There''s, what, five minutes until they will start up the segment?" Eight minutes but the woman didn''t feel like correcting the automation. Looking outside the window, everything seemed ready to be shown off. The news reporter was still throwing some form of a hissy fit, but it was because of some angle on the camera more than anything. In other words, it was none of her problems. Now, the woman could just sit back and relax. Grunwald was the one who was important next, the man doing everything slightly notable. Cassandra just had to sit back and enjoy the show, already having pulled up the live stream. Chapter 378: Polite
Looking at the clock for the fourth time in that minute, Grunwald couldn''t help but sigh at the slowness of it all. Or maybe it was the quickness that was stressing him out. The quick, slow events happening without him being able to do anything about it. Nothing was stopping to slow down or speed up. It was all independent, no matter what he did doing no change at all. It was a weird feeling, but it was clear he needed to hurry up with it. "I wouldn¡¯t hurt to speed up," Grunwald stated, hinting at the automation beside to press down on the speeder just a bit more. Having looked at the statistics about the other automation, Grunwald had been of full mind of the constructs being able to deliver him to the site within the minute. But¡­ that clearly wasn''t true for all of them, some being less worthy than others. Or maybe less worthy wasn''t the right word. The construct beside the man was more cautious, more reliant on hard numbers than intuition, and much stiffer in its approach than the average officer. Surely, it would have been regarded as the symbol of the force ten years ago, when sticking to protocol and order was the highest of the high priorities. Not anymore, however, since the need for a more fluid approach was what was truly needed in the field. Not that the man expected the construct to be able to bear such a radical change. "The top speed is currently being driven when relating it to possible acceleration from downhill areas. Increasing in speed from this point will increase chances of accidental injury markedly," the automation answered with a tone that made Grunwald make a small sigh. The construct clearly thought that it was doing the right thing, yet even it couldn''t see the full picture. A being filled with a need for sense in the world was too distracted by its task to actually take a look at what it was so stressed out by. Looking at the clock again, Grunwald wasn''t sure whether to be happy, sad, or frustrated. He was normally a being pure of worries, always able to keep emotions down in favour of looking at the big picture. But, the big picture was soon going to be without any need for being looked at, the construct getting closer and closer to making him later. Plans to seem professional wasn''t the smartest choice when one came late to one''s own interview. If all else failed, Grunwald supposed that Cassandra could be given the position instead. Even if the woman had her weird quirks at times, the man knew she would do admirably. Her record in the academy was outstanding, and her earlier career showed more promise than most before could have ever dreamed of. She was a hard worker, accustomed to improvisation, and skilled in the act of manipulating people. Not good enough at the latter for Grunwald to not notice, but he was sure she would do much better in the coming years. Hopefully better than him at least, lest she would too be kicked out of the higher ranks and into a small city on the outskirts of the country. Not that he wanted that, however. A lot of the work on that day had been spent on perfecting his speech for the interview. Every pause, every hiccup, and every glance to the side had been meticulously planned. Grunwald wasn''t the planner of statements for no reason. The man was known in the field, better than most at that than most could ever hope to be. He had made more than a few commendations for his work. He would have had more if he knew how to keep his mouth shut. The time was checked for the fifth time that minute, the man knowing that only five more was left before he needed to stand before the camera. Already, he had checked through the camera positions remotely, knowing exactly where he needed to walk once the car rolled into the street. The man couldn''t run, of course, lest the cameras would turn to record. He had to walk at a brisk pace, never too fast nor too slow. Even the entrance was as important as the speech itself. Few ever realised that many screwing up feelings of empathy due to the smiles worn before the talk began. Emotion had to be constant or there had to be a reason for the change. "You could always turn on the lights and increase the speed from that," Grunwald suggested, probing the automation beside him to check for some way to cause an override of the personality. Jules, or whatever it was that Cassandra called her construct, was perfectly able to pick up social cues. The few remote conversations the man had fit in with the automation had proved that more than anything. Yet, the one that Grunwald had assigned for himself lacked that part by a large quantity. While there was a lacking ability to blame it for such, the man still felt a need to make sure what he could work with. Even the stiffest of sticks could be bent over time. Nature always conformed to reality, whether that took a day or a decade. The best traits always survived the longest. "Turning on the light and sound is only for emergencies that come related to reported crimes, spotted crimes or emergencies, or there is a collision further up the road that requires immediate assistance from the police," the automation answered, reading off the manual. Grunwald made sure of that, mumbling along to its words. He had the same page open, after all, having actually written a small part of it. He had made sure that some loopholes had been closed up years ago after a pair of officers had used it to legally street-race. Maybe a form of emergency could be faked during the next attempt? Or some form of a mind game that would leave the automation unable to do anything but listen to Grunwald¡¯s request. Not an order, of course, since that would leave the construct with just trusting his words and doing it no matter what. Not interesting in any possible way of looking at it. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "It could be an emergency in the light of publicity since we will get a very negative reputation if we come late to the interview," Grunwald pointed out. "And a bad reputation would equal a harder time making sure that the streets are without crime. You should have some manner of statistics about how much respect officers get and how much crime there are in each city. Compare the two and see how important getting there on time might be." The man sat back and enjoyed his speech settling in and forming some form of an effect. The automation was clearly delayed when it came to the larger reactions, several seconds passing by before anything interesting happened. Grunwald spent that time wondering if it would be all right to check out what thoughts were being made inside the thing, but he ended up thinking better of it. Knowing the mechanics always made the game a small bit easier while ruining the experience by a much higher degree. But, it was worth it after those seconds, the automation pressing down its foot on the speeder just a bit more. The actual speed only increased by under five per cent, but it was more than nothing, at the very least. It had an effect, and the test was proven to be successful. With time, Grunwald was sure he could get something more important out of it all. Not instantly, however. He had already pushed by a strong degree in a small amount of time. If the wood got a few more pushes, it would break in two and shatter in shrapnel. That wouldn''t help anybody, and the man backed off because of it. Instead, he sat back and enjoyed the slightly faster ride. They got there with four minutes to spare. Quite the achievement, Grunwald having grown anxious at the idea of only having two left to work with. That would have meant he would need to work at an almost jog, moving between the crowd of technicians moving around. Some were clearly not looking where they were going, and it wouldn''t have done anything good to bump into any of them. "Stay in the car while leaving the motor running. This shouldn''t take too long," Grunwald requested. The automation did not fire back with some manner of fuel costs being too much, leaving the man thinking he had chosen something better. Maybe the start-up cost was greater than what it would expend by leaving it on for five minutes? But, was that equation derived from what it would require to heat up the engine? If so, it would have been slightly since the engine had already heated up a fair bit, and¡­ Grunwald shook his head, his previous career as a mechanic not doing him anything good. He needed to get back on track, distracted by the late hour. The man hadn''t slept well in the past few days, and his mental state was deteriorating because of it. Caffeine could only do so much, after all, only sending out a minor effect for a shorter amount of time after a while. The moment he got within ten steps of who he could only assume to be the news reporter, a few technicians were on him, padding him down with wires, putting a microphone on his breast, and making sure that there was nothing wrong with how he looked. Grunwald wasn''t truly surprised at the treatment, only mildly pushing away a hand that grabbed the outline of one of the revolvers by his thigh. While it was on safety mode, a bit of grabbing around could easily make that not the case. "Finally you show up," the news reporter said when Grunwald got close. The officer looked the reporter up and down, noting the dress that certainly couldn''t have been comfortable in the current weather. It was close to freezing degrees yet so much skin was out in the open. Either there was some constitution augmentation on them or they didn''t care about the dangers of frostbite. "You need to have those below you on a tighter leash with how disrespectful they are." "I will note that down for the future, ma¡¯am," Grunwald answered politely, wondering why he got a stink-eye at the last addition. Did they not like the way the word was used? Or maybe it was more an age thing. "I am sure they were only doing their best." "Well, their worst must be outright terrifying if what they did was their best act. Truly, some hits are in need of being performed around," the reporter said. The officer beside the woman wondered what Cassandra could have said. "Now, we have two minutes left before we are on the air. I need you to go into one of those shops and take¡­ five handfuls of glass shards and put it behind us. A bucket if you for some reason carry one of those around." ¡­ Reporters were always great to be around. If Grunwald was in any position to offer raises to people, the man would have given one out to his co-worker for working admirably in the face of danger. It was certain that some would have succumbed to that witch in front of him. "I am afraid that such would be impossible," Grunwald replied with a subdued tone, making sure to not add any additions to the way he talked to the lady. Yet the ugly expression after that only made the man more aware he needed some manner of excuse. "The coverings that shield the shops from the weather conditions are very strong. Taking them down at any level would take a team close to an hour." That, of course, was one of the fattest excuses the man had given in a long time. But, from a certain point of view, he was sure he could argue for its truth. The cleaning teams out in the bigger cities would certainly have a hard time taking the coverings down within an hour''s time if they did not have access to the required gear for such an operation. Since Grunwald couldn''t have possibly known that every piece of gear needed for such an operation was inside a car less than a hundred meters away, the time estimate was more than accurate. He wasn''t expected to know everything, after all. "Then go through the doors! I shouldn''t be the one to explain this to you," the reporter said, clearly not getting the message. Maybe fame really did dumb down the current generation. Or was that the last generation? The makeup clearly wasn''t standing up to the weather conditions. "The doors have been locked up and disconnected from the local network to make sure they can¡¯t be broken into without our notice. Opening them would take us-" Grunwald began, the man already having brewed up a perfectly valid reason to not have to do any work, but was cut off before anything could truly be said. "Whatever!" the reporter said, arms out in a pose that clearly hinted at her inability to ¡®even.¡¯ "Get into position. We are starting in a minute." Within a single moment, that annoying facial expression was replaced by one of serene professionalism. Even those who threw the biggest tantrums had to be good at something, Grunwald supposed, getting into the position that the people by the side were asking of him. A few polite nods were sent their way before the man got his face in order as well. Looking inside, the countdown was within ten seconds before they would go live. He couldn''t screw it up. Chapter 379: Persona
"Are you watching it?" a very annoying scrap of metal said from behind the seat Cassandra sat on, clearly not able to read the room. Of course, she was watching it. The woman had been watching those past few minutes without blinking, making sure to capture every second of it. "Yes. I hope you are watching it too since that might shut you up long enough for us to not lose our jobs," Cassandra stated, enraptured with what she was seeing. The woman had even gone so far so as to speed-watch all the previous segments shown in the report. It was an hour-long show, after all, and they had been saved for the latter half. Burglaries, a few murders, and what was apparently a case of arson set off by a disgruntled janitor had already been discussed, with all of them having a few shocked faces to match. The reporter¡¯s hearts had truly gone out to a lot of people, though Cassandra had begun to wonder just how many times that thing had been cut up and shared. While the phrase might just have become a common use at that point, some viewers had to have noticed the sheer repetitiveness of it. Turning off her own thoughts, though, Cassandra dove into the world of news reporters rambling on. The music on the show had turned down, faces especially more sombre than before, and a frown going down the forehead of one of the anchors truly showed that a serious topic was about to begin. ¡®In other news,¡¯ the male anchor began. Cassandra knew he had a name but it was so generic that she just couldn''t hold on to what it actually was. ¡®A series of break-ins have occurred in the smaller border cities these last few days. As many of our readers know, these burglaries have been increasing in size and severity over these last couple of weeks. However, the recent case has certainly to be the biggest of them all. Isn''t that right, Kim?¡¯ Ah, yes. One of them was named Kim. Three letters. Just enough for the woman to not care at all. ¡®That¡¯s right, Tom,¡¯ another anchor said, presumably the mysterious being called Kim. Those pure-white teeth did nothing but look unrealistic on the woman. They even glittered a small bit, though that might just have been closer to after-editing. ¡®It is currently estimated that a single sweep of robberies is going to cost shop-owners an estimated half-billion dollars worth of repairs. This is not due to the items taken but instead what has been destroyed in the process of the robbery. The civilians who found the site of the robbery has noted this down as being akin to a flood of glass shards, the building in question having many decorations centred around glass paintings. All have been destroyed.¡¯ ¡®Half a billion dollars?¡¯ Tom the reporter commented. The man even shook his head in shock, an example of bad acting shown prominently. There was no chance they hadn''t started at that figure many times before that very same day. ¡®It must have been a horde of thieves down there!¡¯ Oh, how Cassandra wanted to send in a complaint about them needing to shut up and just giving out the news. Those bits of time where they commented on things did not make them seem more human. It just annoyed everybody involved. Cassandra wanted to hear about death and destruction and not how everybody was having a great day talking about it. ¡®Not exactly, Tom. From what we are hearing, these robberies are actually all performed by a smaller group of criminals,¡¯ Kim corrected. ¡®Robberies of these types have apparently been performed in a larger capacity by these people the last couple of weeks, each with them gaining access to shops with close to no issues. Truly a terrifying time to be a shop-owner.¡¯ Ignoring that piece of information about the size of the group, Cassandra couldn''t help but gulp at the not-so-indirect jab at them not doing a good job capturing the thieves. Having opened up the comments on another page, the officer could see citizens from just about everywhere streaming in with hate about the force. Some were calling for them to be fired, others calling them heroes, and a large part heavily blaming it on the automations. Not the worst balance to have, though Cassandra was sure the opinions could shift with time. It always did at times like these, though she had trouble figuring out which side it would fall towards. ¡®You couldn''t be more right, Kim,¡¯ Tom agreed wholeheartedly, looking ready to go right into a product advertisement. ¡®Already, several companies have expressed displeasure at the police¡¯s actions towards these criminal streaks. Some have gone so far as to threaten to leave the country due to expenses being piled on them. Insurance companies are similarly threatening the cancellation of several company-insurance deals if this is not dealt with properly and swiftly.¡¯ They just had to blow things up more than was ever needed. Cassandra could hardly believe how much pressure was being put on setting them up on a bad light. This was supposed to be an intro to an interview with the chief officer, yet they could hardly contain themselves in shit-talking the force as much as they could. Looking over to the public opinion, however, Cassandra did see some reason in the words. The people were loving it, shouting for a lot of things to happen, some more violent than others. While the illegal promotions of actions towards the force were censored, somebody thought it wise to leave them up for just enough time for people to see that they were being removed to begin with. That only let more hate towards the police be created. The populace hated being silenced, after all. The woman could hardly think about it all. ¡®More about this news is Olivia Ross on the scene,¡¯ the reporter finally said after another bout of commenting on the event. Cassandra barely listened to it, focusing on the hate being spread on the commenters. The rate of them being sent out was increasing with time. Not a good thing in the current climate. The woman was sure that some calls from higher up would soon come in, too many complaints reaching their ears. ¡®Olivia, would it be possible for you to describe what it looks like down in the town?¡¯ A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The view changed from inside the studio to a live feed of the town in question. Looking outside the car window, Cassandra could see what was being shown herself. The woman, now known as Oliva¡­ something, was standing with a microphone in hand, looking as serious as one needed to be at what had transpired. Grunwald was to the side, having appeared without her notice, looking at the camera with a similar gaze. From the way he had straightened his back, the officer looked to be a towering figure compared to the reporter. That was a good look for the man, though there was a chance that it could have set him in the light of being a brute. Something to note down, at the very least. ¡®Thank you, Kim,¡¯ the reporter on the scene said. ¡®I am here at the scene, and I must tell you how saddened I am by what I have seen. People here have been in the full drive of cleaning up the mess made by these horrible people. Glass shards have been shovelled up by the bucketful, and windows have been covered up to make sure no more products will be ruined by the climate, perhaps a futile effort seeing as much has already been destroyed.¡¯ The reporter just couldn''t stop herself from adding in that last bit. It seemed to have been ad-libbed, not meant to be there at all. However, the show needed to go on, with the view being cut over to the side to allow for a simultaneous view of the reporters over at the station. ¡®Oh, dear, that does sound terrible,¡¯ the reporter called Kim commented, clearly not understanding how much that had been said already. Not that most commenters understood it there, a literal flood of hearts being sent. Emotions were clearly easily changed. ¡®Glass shard by the bucketful? Would it be possible to have a look at this scene?¡¯ ¡­ A tense silence was had for a second. That comment and request had clearly been prepared beforehand with there being a clear expectation of them then panning the camera to show a street of devastation and destruction. But, and Cassandra curled her lips upwards at this, they couldn''t do that now. They had spent so much time cleaning the street that the station had nothing to show. ¡®The street has already been mostly cleaned, though I am sure that we can send in a few pictures of how it looked a few hours ago as soon as the police release them,¡¯ the reporter stated, hurrying along to give this message. None of the reporters seemed happy about that, but it didn''t stop them from hurrying over that bout of comments about how terrible it must have looked. The camera did actually start to pan to the side, but that was quickly stopped in its tracks. Apparently, there was a lacking desire to show off the street empty of destruction, ice, and general danger. Maybe they didn''t want the listeners to have an accurate look at what it actually looked like? ¡®With me, I have Officer Grunwald, the man overlooking the cleaning operation and the general state of the city,¡¯ the reporter stated, going forth with the part of the interview that was.. actually an interview. It seemed that they must have had some time to fill out. That was the only real excuse that Cassandra could have made for their case. Looking over the state of the comments one more time, it was clear that the interview part wasn''t being taken that well. Even if no questions had been asked or answered yet, the people around the country were already putting a lot of hate on the man. And while it might have been shown, it was clear that Grunwald was having a look at those comments as well. He had told Cassandra he would do as much earlier in the day, after all. ¡®Officer, would it be possible for you to recount the events that made you aware of this event having occurred?¡¯ the reporter asked. Instantly, Cassandra was a little unsure of what would be said. Which side of the story would they go with? The one they had in the morning or the one that they had only discovered later on? Which would make more sense to tell out loud? ¡®Well, ma¡¯am,¡¯ Grunwald began, pausing slightly to show respect to the elderly lady. There was a slight twitch on the reporter¡¯s face but that was kept down to a minimum due to the camera angle. ¡®This morning, a concerned citizen called in about having found the street in a state of destruction. This was met with an immediate response from the officers at the station to go down, log the damages, search for any immediate clues of who did and how it was, and finally make sure that no civilians would enter the street to attempt to plunder.¡¯ Cassandra had to cringe slightly at the last comment, knowing that she wouldn''t have trusted herself to say it with respect. Sounding like the thing stopping the general populace from stealing was an inability to so was not something the general populace liked to hear. However¡­ from the comments, it seemed that most saw that as reasonable, though a few were angry that the citizen who reported it wasn''t arrested. Ignoring the latter, it seemed that the opinions of those who lived in the outskirts were apparently mostly negative. They were already seen as criminals, making the caution surrounding them seen as perfectly reasonable. How perfect an example of the country¡¯s unity. ¡®There have been comments about the number of robbers being low. Does this mean that they have taken little of the stores¡¯ contents?¡¯ the reporter questioned. ¡®Indeed. While I am not in a position where the actual items are to be released to the public, I can firmly state the items taking price in the lower ranges of a few thousand dollars,¡¯ Grunwald said, clearly stretching what a few thousands of dollars could mean. Casandra had personally stated it to be closer to twenty-five thousand dollars, but¡­ he technically wasn''t wrong so there was no need to be angry about it. ¡®With so much destruction surrounding this robbery yet so little of value taken, do you currently believe that these actions done by the robbers had a different goal than simply stealing?¡¯ the reporter asked. Cassandra blew air out of her nose at that, the question hitting harder than expected. But, Grunwald was looking as professional as ever, hardly even blinking at the question. The comments were already flooding in with theories, some clearly having been written before any information was actually written. Secret agents, government conspiracies, and all other curious things were being said. Cassandra had to sigh loudly at most of it, knowing so little of it was true. ¡®While setting anything in stone at this point would be unwise in our position,¡¯ Grunwald began, ¡®we can put out a strong statement that¡­¡¯ The man had stopped, staring blankly into the air for a few seconds. The reporter looked on without comment, only beginning to open her mouth for a question just as the man continued talking. The comments were aflame. ¡®...While suspicions are clear and well-understood, we will get to the bottom of this.¡¯ ¡®That is the best answer we can expect currently,¡¯ the reporter said, changing over to looking directly at the camera. ¡®Tom, Kim, are there any questions the studio has for the chief of police?¡¯ The reporters started to talk amongst themselves. Cassandra didn''t bother listening, seeing on the feed that Grunwald was looking over the left. Looking over to her own right, their eyes met. ¡®An alarm has been started on the outskirts of the city. Likely an opportunistic robber,¡¯ Grunwald sent to her directly. ¡®I need you to go check it out discreetly. We cannot have anything happen while we are on the air.¡¯ Cassandra nodded at the man before Grunwald went right back into his professional persona, answering a slew of questions that the reporters had for him. In a similar state, Cassandra turned on the car and drove off into the receding light. There was a shop to visit and a couple of people to catch. She only hoped it wouldn''t cause much trouble. The day had already had enough of such things. Chapter 380: Post
The interview was still in the background of Cassandra¡¯s mind. The thing had passed the five-minute mark already, the reporters continuing to have more and more questions for Grunwald. How long was that supposed to be? Weren''t such interviews normally a minute or two? "I don¡¯t understand modern media," Cassandra muttered as she pulled onto the side of the road, about fifty meters away from the store that Grunwald had sent her the coordinates of. Not like she truly needed to know exactly which one he was talking about, the lights inside having been turned on. With the omnipresent darkness filling the city, the shop was a shining beacon for everybody to see. Amateurs through and through. The woman could already guess it wouldn''t be the thieves she had looked for. "That¡¯s not exactly a good thing to confess to," Jules said, the automations head popping forward at her words. "What if the media heard what you had to say about them? The flame-war would be ceaseless for at least ten seconds." Ten whole seconds¡­ Cassandra wasn''t sure if that was meant to be impressive or anything. And it wasn''t like she truly cared about it, her mind wandering away from the intricacies of modern communication and over to her actual job. Having the task of actually driving, the woman hadn''t been able to get a good look at the cameras outside the store. There obviously wasn''t much to see at the current moment, the woman able to see as much from her own eyes alone, but the footage from the past showed a much more interesting tale. "Balaclavas," Cassandra muttered while sending the footage over to Jules. The people robbing the place were actually wearing hoodies. "Somebody has been watching too many movies." As if people actually used those anymore. Armoured helmets, able to take a bullet or two, were much more popular for would-be criminals. Easy to get, easy to hide among the masses, and it wasn''t like they left much up for identification. Balaclavas? They allowed for a view of the teeth and eyes, making it possible to identify them with but a glance. But, it wasn''t like those idiots would know, basing their scheme off cheaply made movies from decades ago. "I think we know where some of the younger generations went, at least," Jules said, sending back a highlight reel of the footage. With it, the automation included a head-count of five people, possible heights, possible gender, muscle-strength based on movement, and how much of a threat each person was. Cassandra could have done all that herself, but¡­ she didn''t bother. When a machine was able to do it all for her, why toil her mind with such things? "Might not be the smartest but it¡¯ll still be hard to catch them all if they scatter." "They can¡¯t scatter when still inside the store," Cassandra replied, checking through the store¡¯s systems. The teens had somehow deactivated the alarm, a great feat in itself, but had seemingly forgotten to check out for any secondary systems. While it might not have made a sound, the police had certainly been alarmed. "Main doors are locked and secured. First, the back entrance is open. Second back-entrance¡­ is not functioning and won''t be a problem for us." How the woman praised faulty check-ups. The owners had decided to simply seal up one of the fire-exits instead of paying for restoration. It was perhaps a danger to any of the workers in case of an emergency, but at least they wouldn''t have to pay the fifty dollar inspection fee. "There¡¯s a ladder to the roof," Jules pointed out, circling a spot on the map that Cassandra had shared between them. "They could escape from that if they needed to." "We are talking about kids here. They might be idiots but that won''t make them jump a story down to escape from the police," Cassandra said with a shake of her head. The previous experiences with the thieves had certainly twisted their view of what a criminal was. "They might try it but there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll do it." "Right you are, I suppose," Jules amended after likely looking through a few thousand previous occasions with other kids that age. "Do we have actual identifications or are we saving that for later?" "You know as much as me that we can¡¯t get a clear shot at the face out of this angle," Cassandra replied. "We¡¯ll have to wait for face-to-face shots before we can say anything about their actual identities. But if they escape, we¡¯ll just follow them on the cameras until they take the thing off." A strategy for later. Identify the faces and use their names when talking to them. That always worked on the younger ones. The older people already knew that the police could identify them, so they were never too surprised when Cassandra said it. "That leads into actual strategy," Jules said, leading the woman to the actual mindset for the occasion. Direct run inside? Few hiding spots, none that the woman wouldn''t find, and it would be too hard to escape if they ran. Their footsteps would be too loud on the flooring. With only one viable exit, it would be smartest to station Jules on it. The automation wouldn''t be able to use full strength inside the shop, so it wasn''t like the injuries would be a valid excuse for making it sit outside, but there was something fundamentally wrong about making the construct do it alone. It was like sending a cripple out to be a war hero. It had been done before, and none of the times had it been done well. Cassandra could only mentally cringe at the thought. "I will enter, use non-lethal weaponry on the kids. When I have captured all, you will assist me in binding them and carry them over to the car. After that, we¡¯ll put them in cells until their parents can get them," Cassandra summarised, not even needing to give the idea of only one entering. That had been on the table since the start. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Fair enough," Jules said. "Let¡¯s go then. I¡¯ll be just behind." ¡®And we¡¯ll switch to the police channel,¡¯ the automation added as they stepped out of the car. It was weird hearing the thing inside her head, Cassandra having grown a bit used to the verbal talking. It wasn''t that annoying to have, the woman having been accustomed to that method of communication. It was just like reliving an older experience. The woman shook those thoughts out of her head within the first minute out of the car, the two officers moving silently towards the back of the shop. The lights were more subdued from there, the flashlights not reaching through the doors so easily. And, oh yeah, they were using flashlights. The one tool that was extremely hard to find in the modern-day since close to nobody used them. They were used by those who liked to travel in the forest, yes, but even those were tourist-level prices. How rich were those kids? Cassandra looked back at the automation. Jules had stopped following her the minute they came close to the entrance, instead of moving over to the wall so it was instantly obvious it was there. The woman had nothing against it, moving inside by herself. Her first step inside showed the storage rooms, filled to the brim with boxes of all sizes. Some were gathered in lumps, while others had been stacked in a hill-like fashion. Not the most professional, showing off just how hands-on the owners of the store might have been. Though¡­ no matter how much hands-on they might have been, the woman really did doubt that the owners had torn open some of the boxes themselves. Neither did Cassandra believe that the wrapping from a candy bar had been there previously. A scuttle further in the store brought the woman back in focus. The flashlights were more obvious now that she was inside, the source alerting the woman on exactly where the people were at. Cassandra couldn''t see the practicality of those flashy things, her enhanced eyes allowing her to see very easily in the darkness. The only thing the lights did was to annoy her. "Where are they?" came as a shoot further in. Likely the storefront, the kids not thinking that the boxes in the storage room had the same exact things. Or maybe they didn''t know what to look for in all the boxes. Cassandra did not know and neither did she care that much. Bringing forth her tranquiliser, she ventured further inside. The space inside the shopping area was very open, allowing for a wide view of the store from nearly every angle. It certainly allowed those at the desk to do so, which was exactly where Cassandra came in from. The woman knew that doing such had been slightly foolish, as there were many angles to watch for, but she was aware that the teens likely couldn''t see any other places than where they were shining their lights. Those lights were mostly focused around a few shelves to Cassandra¡¯s left. Not close enough that she was in danger of being spotted randomly but similarly too far away to reasonably shoot all¡­ four teenagers. Wait, four teenagers? That wasn''t right. There were supposed to be five. Looking behind her, there was no surprise teen with a shovel, however. One¡­ one was missing, likely somewhere in the shop that had not been seen. Cassandra needed to be wary of them. But, first, she needed to get through the ones in sight. With their heads turned away, Cassandra couldn''t identify them. However, the body type was enough to spot them as one guy and two girls, the shoulders speaking more than anything else. Cassandra adjusted her doses accordingly. "You said they would be here, John!" one of the girls screeched. John? Truly a robber''s name. "I said they would be close to here. I haven''t been here for years!" the one boy shouted back. Or, Cassandra supposed they were closer to the low twenties or high teens if anything. Age by voice was heard around that period, even the auto-detection having trouble. Though, the name-drop did help sweep down the number of candidates. Cassandra crept closer, counting her steps. With her feet slow and steady, it took less than a few seconds for her to get within ten meters. The store''s small size truly did them greatly in this aspect, Cassandra able to get within a reasonable distance for her first shot. "Then you should have- John!" One of the girls, ready to shout, suddenly turned around to see the larger guy fall to the ground, a surprised expression on his face. Cassandra supposed nobody could have guessed their legs would suddenly give out on them. Having hit the lower spine, nothing had stopped her from making the man incapable of stopping. She had even upped the dosage enough to make him lose most motor functions in the fingers, the flashlight in his hands falling onto the floor near-instantly. "What¡¯s wrong?" Nothing was wrong except for Cassandra taking a second to readjust. Instead of shooting the shouting girl, the woman took the chance to hit the one beside her, that one stiff in the muscles and without any movement. A perfect target, likely too tense to even realise they were being stung with a small needle filled with something to make them fall. Not that the girl fell too hard, the knees stopping before anything else. And the shoulder took most of the force away anyway. The only thing the girl needed to fear was a small bit of whiplash on one of her sides. Though¡­ the screaming girl would perhaps have needed to get her vocal cords checked out after the time in a cell, those high notes being like a rusty nail on aboard. Not something that Cassandra enjoyed, shooting the arm instead of the legs to make her shut up quicker. While the girl might have been able to take a step forward because of it, it helped make her quiet. An easy operation, Cassandra barely needing to do anything. Standing up from her crouched position, the woman popped her back with a satisfying crunch. She needed to stretch out when she got back to- Something akin to a baseball bat hit her in the back of the head, making the woman crumple to the ground in an instant. While her lungs might have been hit, a loud gasp was all she could do in that second. Just where had that fifth bastard come from. ¡®Your vitals took a hit. Need any help?¡¯ Jules sent in the same instant, likely having been monitoring her the whole time. ¡®No need,¡¯ the woman replied, playing dead to great effect. Even her breathing was subdued. ¡®I am playing this perfectly.¡¯ Cassandra had been right in her guess of the weapon, feeling the hardtop poking her back hard. She made neither a sound and nor did she react in any real way. She was the perfect unconscious detective. The woman had actually taken a class on it a few years back. The bat was let off the moment that the dumb teen thought her truly asleep, focusing on the fallen teenagers. The guy that had been shot previously was clearly still conscious at some level, flapping about without really being able to do anything. Those lack of motor functions were no joke. If he continued with it, Cassandra was afraid he would shit himself. That would certainly make the trip make to the station uncomfortable. "John. John, get up. I need you to carry Jess. I can¡¯t carry all of you," the other teen was saying. He was shaking the other guy, but that was having close to no effect other than the supposed John making groaning noises. The officer took that as her cue to rise from the dead, getting up from the floor with a heavy sigh. With her enhanced sight, she was able to see the teen flinch at the sound she made. They were clearly not on her level with dark vision, likely only able to see her silhouette. Cassandra, in sharp contrast, was able to see just about everything. "That was not nice of you, Jason," Cassandra slowly uttered, putting extra pressure on the teen''s name. He flinched at that, making the woman happy about the successful identification. The system had not been too certain about the accuracy, and it would have been rather embarrassing to fail at intimidation at that step. The little teen tried to run. Cassandra let him, knowing that Jules would get the bastard the moment he got outside the door. Though, the woman did also give the construct a heads-up, not wanting to spend the night tracking down the kid. "Now¡­" Cassandra said, readying her arms. "Which one of you wants a window seat?" Chapter 381: Idiots
The construct was able to capture the run-away, though it ended with the automation giving the kid a bloody nose. Cassandra was not too happy about that. "Well, it ain''t my fault he wouldn''t stop flailing around," Jules said in its defence. Cassandra was not buying it. "Who could have possibly known that the dose would be too small?" "You would be able to know," Cassandra answered bluntly, having seen the records for the dose-size. Even a child would have been able to stand after such a pitiful amount. The woman didn''t even know it was legal to fire with such small amounts. How was there not a minimum amount? "I warned you of the fact that he would be running over to you, ten full seconds before he got to you. I even included estimated body weight so that you could give him an accurate dosage on the spot." But the automation clearly hadn''t done so since Cassandra had been the one to administer it in the end. That wasn''t something that the woman liked to do, to the point where she almost just kicked the teen in the head to make him keep down. Not that she actually did it since that would cause a pair of parents to have gotten their knickers in a twist. "I screwed up. Let¡¯s leave it at that," Jules said in an attempt to mend the bridge. Cassandra just stared at the offered hand with a look of contempt until it was finally receded. "Or¡­ I can offer work in exchange for forgiveness. I¡¯ll carry all the dead weight into the car and you won''t have to do a single thing in the meanwhile." That caused some mood improvement, Cassandra warmly smiling at the automation before going right into the car. Inside, she turned on back protection, making a small plastic shield extend from the roof, separating the forward and back seats from each other. It was normally used to keep the violent people from grabbing the police officer¡¯s throat, but it also worked as an excellent way to keep out the common complaints of young people. Sitting in the seat opposite where the driver was supposed to sit, the woman was able to calmly observe Jules struggling to carry all four teenagers without bumping their heads into various corners and odd-ends. It was a hilarious thing, only increased in humour by the fact that it was incredibly terrible at making sure the safety was in order. Luckily, it was all classified as accidental damage and wouldn''t actually matter in the end. Not like the teens were aware enough to realise what was even happening around them. Drugging kids was nice like that. Ignoring the automations desperate attempts at putting four decently sized teens into three back seats, Cassandra opened up the live feed for the news station. It was¡­ still ongoing. It started more than ten minutes ago, taking up more space than nearly any other segment on the entire show. That was¡­ a little weird. Grunwald was still talking after being asked a question, and the reporter was still being asked to ask more and more of them, yet¡­ they all seemed a little unnerved by it. Similarly, the feed had switched over to purely showing Grunwald and the reporter talking, the station-side only getting sent in through audio. And even then, Cassandra was quick to notice that it seemed a bit flickery. Grunwald''s voice was being heard very clearly, but some sounds from the station had a bit of lag to them. Was it due to a bad connection perhaps? It was rare these days, but things like that were entirely possible. Wait¡­ then shouldn''t it have been the other way around, the station having a good connection while Grunwald was flickering? Yeah, that should have been so. What was it then? There had to be something wrong with it. Cassandra considered logging into the news network¡¯s server directly to have a look but then she thought better of it. A moment of looking inside would equal a mountain of paperwork that she had no interest in filling out. And since the comments were not reacting harshly to the event, the woman could only guess that things were as they were supposed to be. Nothing out of the ordinary or not out of the ordinary enough for her to truly be concerned. Looking at the feed, Grunwald certainly seemed unperturbed by the lack of end to the interview, even if the reporter beside him was showing signs of a smile faltering. Maybe the studio just had more questions than anticipated. Nobody could ever truly know. Or it could be that there was some higher-up who wanted to put the police in the negative light and was trying desperately to get some form of answer that could be used as click-bait. One could only wait and see. And wait Cassandra would, Jules finally getting into the driver''s seat. Looking back, the woman was quick to find that the bunch of teens had found themselves half-dead, looking groggier than over. One long belt was along their bodies, stopping them from moving around too much. Though¡­ all that spittle coming from their mouths was just about the most disgusting thing the woman had seen for a long time. "Do you think they would all survive being in the same room through the night?" Cassandra questioned, not wanting to search up the proper codes for imprisonment procedures. She knew drunkards could all be put in the same room, but there had to be some form of rules set up for the underaged. "Just have to make sure we don¡¯t screw something up." "We won¡¯t do anything too badly if we bunch them all somewhere with beds. The worst we¡¯ll get from that would be parents complaining that their children got a stiff neck the day after," Jules commented. Cassandra was not quick to mention that one of the girls would likely have something more extreme than regular stiffness, a rather dramatic fall causing some minor whiplash. It wasn''t close enough to be dangerous, but the woman was sure that something would come of it if allowed to progress. Maybe she could send in some skin cream to soothe it if requested. Only if asked, however. No need to make it seem obvious that she understood the consequences. The car was turned on and off the side of the road they were on. Cassandra looked outside, noting that the sky had turned much darker in the short time they had been inside the building. By that point, flashlights would truly be needed to see without the light-poles having been turned. Not that they truly helped out on the outskirts, the damned things being distanced so far apart that they did nothing but be beacons to estimate length by. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Do you think we should drive around the outskirts to check for any other would-be thieves?" Cassandra asked the automation beside her. It wasn''t a rhetorical question at that point, the woman very clearly wanting some advice on the subject. "Grunwald doesn''t seem like he¡¯ll be done in the next while, so it¡¯s not like we have to rush back to the station with the bastards. They might even be lucid enough to walk inside the cells of their own accord if we give them some time to sit in silence." Or maybe sit in silence for ten minutes before being randomly awoken by extreme death metal. Cassandra had one track lined up for the occasion, thinking it a good way to awaken the criminal if the need for it was ever required. Not that she thought it was entirely humane to do, but the courts would likely look at it as more of a bad attempt at a joke than anything. "I guess we could do something like that," Jules responded in an off-hand tone, not entirely sold on the idea but neither really having anything else to do. "Would be funnier than having to wait in silence for the bastards to wake up since there is no reason I am carrying them again." "Were they really that heavy?" Cassandra questioned. "From what stuff you have bragged about, I wouldn''t see them as being more than a mild trifle." "In pairs or just alone, they wouldn''t be more than a trifle," Jules responded, clearly very serious about the topic. It went so far that it even looked at her rather than the road "When you put all the little fuckers together, you get something I just can¡¯t work with easily. They are some heavy things, I tell you." "Nobody said you had to carry them all at once," Cassandra pointed out. "You could have taken more than one turn getting them all into a car." "What person would ever-" Jules began, but was stopped by the extremely loud screech of a pair of wheels being forced to stop. Cassandra had her weapon out in an instant but stopped upon realising what was happening. "Please don''t tell me you ran something over," Cassandra started with an exasperated tone. The moment that they looked away from the road, some bloody rabbit or something like it just had to see the perfect timing to kill itself. It didn''t happen often in the current time of the year, but it similarly wasn''t the weirdest thing one saw on the outskirts of the town. At least Cassandra knew from the lack of blood on the windshield that they hadn''t driven into a drug addict high on whatever drug had been found in the trash bin. "I don¡¯t think I did," Jules said, looking rather confused. "The cameras certainly didn''t pick up anything." Nothing on the cameras and no animals in the back or front wheels either. Since the automation wasn''t making comments about red streaks, Cassandra had to conclude that there weren''t any dumb animals that had been killed accidentally. But then, just what had that god-awful screeching been? Looking closer to the front wheel, Cassandra got her answer really quickly. While not immediately noticeable, there were a few holes here and there on the thing. Somehow, the wheel had been punctured. Looking onto the back wheel in the same fashion, the woman found a similar hole in the thing. Not much air was being sent out, but the woman supposed the pressure of the new humans on board had to have caused some kind of acceleration. "How many spare tires do we have?" Cassandra asked the automation, not having personally looked over such small details. It wasn''t like the woman had ever personally dreamed of needing to change a tire. Never before had she even seen one damaged, the things able to survive for longer than most cars. The more expensive ones could even be used for several generations. So, having a destructed pair meant more than most would be expected. "None?" Jules said with a weird look. "Did you really expect this car to have one lying around? We barely have space for the people and gear. There isn''t really a place to put in a tire as well." "I should have figured," Cassandra stated, not liking the reality she was living in. Looking over at the tires once again, she supposed it could have been caused by the glass shards. Many had been driven over that day, some perhaps being of higher quality than what was required for it to be unsafe. Some had obsidian levels of sharpness to them, after all. There was a reason robots were made to clean it up. "Do we have some tape then? I suppose we could just pump it full of air ourselves." "You severely overestimate the ability of tape and severely underestimate the power of manual pumps," Jules stated with a shake of its head. "Neither will be helping us now. We might need to get some extra tires transported to us." "Damn it," Cassandra stated, knowing that it was true. Who to call though? Jared and the automation beside him were likely not able to leave. Neither was it truly a good idea to do so, the government having several problems with leaving a sick man in a building alone. Who else was there to ask? Grunwald¡¯s automation was a likely candidate. The thing was technically meant to transport Grunwald when the interview was over, but that was still going as quick as before, with no real chance of stopping. Cassandra was sure the man would forgive them for making it help them. ¡®Can you read me?¡¯ Cassandra sent to the automation. It took a moment but the answer back did finally come. ¡®I can. For what reason have I been called?¡¯ the automation answered back, as professional as ever. Looking over to Jules, the construct was clearly able to guess what was happening and had just as clearly left the task entirely up to Cassandra. How great an automation the construct was, so full of work ethic and determination. ¡®We need you to go back to the station, grab four standard-sized car wheels and bring them back to our current location. The ones on our car broke and we are currently escorting criminals that are unable to walk the rest of the way,¡¯ Cassandra answered. Inwardly, she was cursing at herself for not just letting them go directly towards the station. Of course, she had to be smart about it. If not for that, how would they ever improve? ¡®I have been told to wait here until Grunwald has finished his interview,¡¯ the automation answered back instantly. Cassandra did not appreciate that answer. ¡®I am sure that Grunwald would be happy to have you assist us instead of sitting around doing nothing,¡¯ Cassandra sent back. ¡®I am not doing nothing. I am waiting for Grunwald to finish his interview so he can be escorted back to the station as quickly as possible.¡¯ ¡­ Cassandra couldn''t deal with this. ¡®Send Grunwald a message about my request and see if he agrees.¡¯ The woman looked at the live feed and was clearly able to see a slight pause in the man, though he continued nearly instantly after. To anybody else, it might just have looked like the man was taking a slightly longer break to breathe. He was speaking quite quickly, after all. ¡®Grunwald has accepted your proposal. Expect me to arrive within ten minutes.¡¯ Cassandra could hardly wait, sitting back into the car and shouting a few obscenities at the world with idiots she was being forced to live in. Chapter 382: Pandemonium
"It just doesn''t make sense to me," Cassandra said for what felt like the third time in the last five minutes. "Why does the studio sound lag when the reporters on the field have perfect quality? There aren''t any other problems than the voices. They can¡¯t possibly have had a machine error and not fixed it by now." "It could be that they¡¯re just that incompetent," Jules proposed, making fun of the way that Cassandra put pressure on certain words. The woman gave the automation an annoyed glare before going right back into the conspiracy. "It isn''t the first time a news station left in obvious errors in favour of letting things run without pause." If the automation brought up the example of the wrong time on dates one more time, the woman was sure she would beat some sense into the blasted thing. Not instantly, however, the woman tried to get a clear diagram on how the broadcasting worked for the show. There were surprisingly few schematics online for how the broadcast worked. Maybe people weren¡¯t as interested in it as her or maybe the woman wasn''t allowed to find it. Either way, every passing second left the woman with a stronger and stronger desire to take the mountain of paperwork with a smile, as long as she got to see the intricacies of the news network as payment for it. "Not a chance," Cassandra said, refuting their point. "Five months ago, they had a similar error that was shown. According to the sources on their wiki, it took them seven seconds to pause the broadcast, immediately notifying viewers of the mistake, while also fixing the actual mistake within five minutes of its discovery. There is no chance that they wouldn''t do something similar in this case or at least notify the viewers of the technical issues." Cassandra wouldn''t even try to figure out why exactly somebody had gone to the extent of making the network a wiki. She only knew it was well-sourced with clips and that it was one of the most viewed wikis in the country. Old people really didn''t have anything to do in the current years. "You certainly have a lot of knowledge on that subject. Ever thought of requesting the editing role on that wiki? You might know more than the network itself at this point," Jules joked with a laugh to accompany it. The construct got a shove from the side because of it, no matter how little power was put into it. The woman just couldn''t understand it. "It just seems like you¡¯re reading too much into it. If the chat isn''t questioning it, doesn''t that mean that it isn''t too far out of the ordinary? Maybe the studio is preparing some long rant for one of the hosts to give or maybe somebody spilt a cup of coffee on one of the anchors. There could even be some kind of ritual for grilled cheese that wasn''t good for viewership but simultaneous couldn''t be delayed." The automations words went on deaf ears, Cassandra hardly concentrating on what was being said. The woman had given herself ten minutes to figure out the mystery, and there was no way that she would fail in her mission. Grunwald¡¯s automation wouldn''t reach them before she had reached enlightenment. Could it be an extra boost in quality due to a delay? It could be that packets were being sent in different sizes due to cable malfunctions, some piece of it forced to use more than what it was meant to and being unable to do it all in a reasonable time frame, throttling the connection on one end because of it¡­ No, that was stupid. Even the woman was enough of a tech expert to know the likelihood of that happening. Cassandra settled back on the theory of the signal actually being the reverse of the standard. Instead of the broadcast originating from the studio, it was actually coming from where the interview was being conducted. Earlier in the show, before the interview had begun, a small flicker of sorts had been noticeable, as if an extra overlay had been hastily added on. That could have been proper shading meant to stop viewers from releasing the view had been switched out on the connection-end. Not that such a technique had ever been mentioned much on the internet, but it would make sense for the connection to be that way. Cassandra could certainly see some reason in rerouting connections to make the interview quality would be above everything else. "There is a secret about how this works, and I need to get to the bottom of it," Cassandra stated, her level of desire reaching a new level. Another minute had passed, and the other automation available would soon come bearing the gifts of tire-changes. The mental image of such brought an idea to the woman¡¯s mind. "Jules. You have the same access level as me, correct?" Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. "One step higher but functionally yes," the automation said. Ignoring the fact that the construct had an access level on the same level as the one Grunwald had, Cassandra was quick to ignore her questioning. Or, it was more close to direct orders than anything. "I need you to access the news network and give me the detail about how their network broadcasting works. I don''t care what papers you have to sign to tell. Just give me an answer this very minute," Cassandra said without taking a breath. She didn''t need air. She needed answers. "Are you sure you want to request that of me? It entails me promising some-" "I don¡¯t care if you promised them your third cheek," Cassandra cut in instantly, not wanting to hear a word more. "Get me that info." Jules stared at her for a second before just shrugging and closing its eyes. That allowed the woman to close hers as well and get a few breaths into her system. She was getting stressed out from the tires and diverting the anger that came from it over to somebody else. That was not a nice thing to do and she needed to control herself. "Done." "Send it over to me this instant or your stomach won''t be the only thing that got crushed today!" "... Alright." Calm thoughts. Calm mind. Calm soul. Cassandra fueled those thoughts onto herself as she studied the date. The automation had done much more than just sending her the raw data, however, instead outright giving her a raw connection into the studio and everything that was happening. With it, she could study what each component was connected to, where each wire sat, and what everybody was saying. In fact, she could even tune into the broadcast through the connection. Not that she wanted, though, the woman already having it open on¡­ What? The feeds¡­ were different. On one end, Grunwald and the reporter were continuing to answer the questions asked by the studio without any hesitation. It was the sight that the woman had grown accustomed to. Yet, on just the other side, Cassandra saw the studio apologizing profusely for the errors, repeatedly assuring anybody hearing them that everything would be sorted in just a minute. ¡®We believe that we are experiencing a computer virus or something like it,¡¯ the reporter named Tom said, not looking as fine and handsome as before. In fact, there was a small bit of sweat going down the man¡¯s forehead. He seemed stressed. ¡®Our control of the broadcast has been changed, with permissions on our network rerouted fully. To any viewers, I must again apologize for the changed up viewing experience. I assure everybody that things will be up and running within the next minute or so.¡¯ That was a live feed. A real-life feed without any sound errors. No problems with the video either, with everything shown in perfect quality. Just¡­ what? ¡®Please describe in detail what was seen yesterday,¡¯ the other Tom, or whatever they were, requested from the other feed, the reporter beside Grunwald repeating the question. The voices were exactly the same. How was this possible? "Jules," Cassandra said, her voice calm but still incredibly serious. "Look at the feed we are getting from the station and compare it to the one being sent out." The automation was on the same page within an instant. "I don¡¯t know how, but it seems we have issues with the channel," Cassandra stated. Already, it was clear that things were not as they were supposed to be. Thinking back on it all, the woman wondered just what was possibly wrong. What had stuck out¡­ the voices! "The sound errors during the questions. They always messed up at the same point. The same part of the same words is always missing. It''s not because of some error. It lags because they don''t have a recording for that sound!" "Somebody¡¯s using clips and matching them together," Jules surmised. "Somebody is asking questions. Deliberate delay-tactics?" "Yes¡­ but why?" Casandra asked. Looking at the time, Grunwald''s automation was supposed to be beside them at any minute. Actually¡­ It was a minute late. "Can you see the other automation on the map?" "... Shit. It disappeared when it got to the station," Jules said. The station, the station, the station. Bringing up camera feeds related to the station, close to the station, or even just inside the station, Cassandra found nothing but blank screens. The entire place was a digital black space. She couldn''t even reach Jared¡¯s medical condition. "We need to get to the police station this instant," Cassandra said, getting out of the car. "The tires won¡¯t be coming, so we have to run." "That will take us too long." "Doing anything else will take even longer," Cassandra fired back, knowing it to be true. However, there was one other human closer to the station. One who was in need of being told what was going on. ¡®Grunwald. The interview is being dragged on by a third party. The police station has turned into a black spot digitally. We are likely being manipulated. We need to get there this instant.¡¯ Having the feed open, Cassandra was able to see Grunwald instantly react to the message, not even saying goodbye or anything to the reporter the man just started running out of sight, the camera having trouble panning over to the rest of the street in time. Then the screams started to ring out, and pandemonium was upon them. Chapter 383: Adrenaline
Grunwald had to take a step back in from the shouting, the suddenness and strength of it having a strong effect on his ears. Mixing that in with the waves of energy being blasted from all sides, tops and bottoms of shops, and even a few from below in the sewers, it was clear that an attack was upon them. The man had barely gotten away from where the cameras were before they were in sight. It was civilians of all ages and getups, some fashioned with clubs filled with nails, while others had simple branches and in hand. Some wore hockey gear or something else stolen from some sport, though most just worse the tattered clothing they normally had. And each and every one of them, without fail, looked ready to kill at that moment, energy-filled in their shouting as they rushed forward like a moving wall of death. Grunwald could only stand still in that moment, unsure of how he was going to deal with all of it. The automation meant to be by his side was nowhere to be seen, though he knew that to be due to him sending him to the station. Grunwald was alone against a stampede of would-be criminals. No, not would-be criminals. The look in their eyes was more than enough for the man to rank them among the most dangerous of beings. A mob that was driven by the energy of each other. There was no chance of him taking one down and the others learning from the example. The look of greed and satisfaction of adrenaline was too strong. It wouldn''t do anything to take care of the ten closest to him with a tranquillizer, the only real effect being that they were going to get trampled by that behind. What a brutal death it would be, Grunwald imagined, the man preparing a cocktail known as a flashbang. That was what he called it anyway, the true name being a class above what he was allowed to really talk about. Only the effect was known by the populace anyway. Having it strapped to the end of a small pipe, he fired it onto the sky, closing his eyes for what he knew was coming. It wouldn''t do much in the long run, but the first row would be slowed down enough to make the news crews seek shelter in their vans.
In the direction of where her boss was supposed to be, Cassandra saw what could only be called a new sun. It was brighter than the real thing anyway, while also producing more sound than anything else should have. If it had been any stronger, the woman knew that the windows on the buildings would have broken, the extreme shaking so off just how much there truly was to worry about. The woman took to running in the middle street instead of the sidewalk. Jules joined her instantly. ¡®A large crowd is surrounding me,¡¯ Grunwald sent to her, making the woman wonder what she was meant to do. The way they were running would intersect her boss¡¯ location if they shifted their route slightly to the left, yet¡­ ¡®Do you need assistance?¡¯ Cassandra sent back instantly, already ready to swipe to the side if there was any chance of a yes. The station might have been important, but the chance of an officer falling alone was not something she would ever accept. No matte how- ¡®I can handle myself. The station is more important. Jared is your top priority,¡¯ Grunwald sent back just as quickly, the man clearly favouring an already wounded soldier above himself. Cassandra wanted to fire back with her not needing to worry about a man who likely wouldn''t be given a second thought by the thieves when another on her team was facing more people than anybody was ever expected to. Not even the quiet acceptance of a thumbs-up could be sent back, however. Not that Cassandra didn''t try. The network just refused to respond to her orders at all. "Attempt network connections in general," Cassandra ordered Jules, speeding up her run the tiniest bit. It was slightly above what she was comfortable running two kilometres at, but she was sure her adrenaline would carry her as long as she needed it. There were more important things to think about than the long-term health of her legs. "Everything is busted," Jules reported, looking frustrated at itself. "Nothing is responding to anything. The network is up, yet it seems as if everything has been removed from the permissions list." Nobody was allowed to do anything, Cassandra surmised for herself. Somebody had access to the network to the degree where they could control the master commands. There was still only one party able to do such things. "Get ready to confront the thieves in full," Cassandra said with a finality in her words. The woman sent a mental command at her belt, happy to find that the low-range commands within her own gear were still working, and made it ready for tranquilisers with maximum dosages and for her revolver to have explosive ammunition. Anything hit with anything would stay down for as long as she wanted, whether that would be a month or permanently. "If no immediate confrontation is had, we move over to the storage rooms." Jules looked at her weirdly at that, but the woman didn''t mind it, not even noticing anything but her own breathing. The woman was doing her best with what she had, the gear on the back having more weight than what she usually ran with. Her steps were off, her breaths heavier, yet her mind refused to even acknowledge the idea of slowing down for a single moment. There were too many things to reach, too many things they could lose. Even if it was unlikely, the things Jared was easily able to be forced into. It would take a dull knife to take his knife without any difficulty. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The woman might have liked the man as a person, yet even she couldn''t bear the thought of leaving a man to die in a hospital bed. Maybe that was how the woman sped up even further, her legs carrying her more and more with each stride. There was no waiting around being slow. She had to be quick. She had to strike fast. And there was no way she would let the thieves get their goal. They had sent warnings, had destroyed property, and she would make sure that they suffered for every step in their plans. They would be in jail for the rest of their lives, forced to pay debts that a hundred generations would never be able to stand up against. Their legacy would be the ruin of their entire lineage, and she would make sure they felt every dollar destroyed personally. "You need to slow down, Cass," Jules said, using her name instead of some dumb nickname like ¡®dear,¡¯ ¡®desire,¡¯ or any other dumb word that matched her look. "You will exhaust yourself too quickly if you continue like this." "You need to speed up, shithead," Cassandra fired back, her words coming with some distance between them. The woman was breathless. Her body had never felt so much energy yet had never felt so tired either. The nights of restlessness, forced slumber with pills, and uncountable hours spent staring at a ceiling were firing themselves at her, showing the consequences of each second with some pain in her body. But that was just weakness leaving her body. The woman was free to do as she damned pleased, and she was going to save somebody from a fate nobody deserves. "We are going to slit their throats before they take a simple step into that place." "We aren''t slitting their throats, dear. That would be unprofessional," Jules stated, going back to its usual mannerisms. "We¡¯re going to shoot them in the head like civilised cops. We do have some standards, even if you run around like an angry animal." Cassandra positively growled at that statement, the woman not even realising just how much the automation was right in its words. There was something primal in her movements, her nails like claws, her eyes like a tiger, and her speed more than enough to match one in the wild. She was the predator going forwards and coming to the prey, and there would be nothing stopping her from stopping blood from being pumped in their hearts. Maybe it was the damage that had been done to those around her. Maybe it was the manipulations, the destruction, or some other inane thing they had done towards her. Or maybe Cassandra was just so fucking angry at the thieves. No matter what, the woman was beginning to look at the group like something less than animals, the control they had over the battlefield closer to a devil or a trickster. And the woman knew what was needed to tend to such creatures. Death and dismemberment as quickly as possible. She would see to it personally that such happened within the hour. The two ran and ran. One kilometre was left, but it was right down a straight road, making the two speed up more and more. A kilometre of distance became nine hundred meters within an instant. Then there were five hundred left. Then¡­ they were meters away from a front door that had been broken open. It wasn''t even a door anymore at that point, the hinges having been blown off, leaving it being closer to a gate of sorts. There was no way to close it, the actual door part having been pushed so hard inside that it laid two meters inside. However they had done it, they had done it hard. The force, the power needed to do something like that brought some sense back into the woman. Cassandra briefly sent a message through the police channel about caution and stealth but had to roll her eyes at her personal blunder. Of course, the lack of a network would extend to them having a lacking police channel., forcing them to use purely verbal language. "You command the lethal weaponry and I will make sure that the non-lethal is dealt with. I will be first with you backing me up," Cassandra said within five seconds, firing off words afterwards, just loud enough for the automation to hear. The woman would have shouted if not for the broken glass from the door not having been blown too much around in the wind. The thieves had entered within a minute or two, and they had to be close by. "Be ready for instant confrontation inside." Jules gave a quick nod and they were off with a sprint. Cassandra rolled inside, under the required height for a surprise jab from one of the sides. Nothing would have come regardless of her entrance method, yet the technique would have worked fine if there were. Within a second, the woman had mentally scanned the entire entrance hall. Except for slightly dirty steps on the ground, there were no clues of anything being wrong. Except for the broken door, of course, but that hardly counted for anything anymore. The woman would have spent a moment to recuperate if it had been any other situation, but there was no chance of such a thing happening. It was much too serious for such a thing, Cassandra fully understood that a moment of letting her guard down could result in her being hit from the side. A bullet in her cranium was not among her desired list of activities of the day. Then again, neither did she expect to clear the police station, so the woman supposed she wasn''t asking for too much with such a request. There were many wonders in the world, and the act of safety was among the more common of them. Jules followed into the entranceway within a second of the woman taking another step forward. The hallway that followed them was empty of all sound and signs, the dirty boot having been cleaned within the first couple of steps inside the building. The woman wouldn''t be able to use it for anything. Cassandra sent a mental curse out into the world because of it, her pulse ramming itself against the ceiling with adrenaline. They weren''t going to stay still for a moment, the two moving down the hallways and right towards the storage rooms. They had something to grab, something that they needed to get no matter what. Without it, they were in more trouble than they would ever be able to get out of. Another hallway was entered after that, the woman cursing the architecture from being inherently confusing. Hidden spots were everywhere, favouring anybody hiding within. It was meant to assist the officers inside, stopping any intruders from outside from getting in easily. When on the opposite end, however, it just forced Cassandra to be wary of every scent and shadow, knowing that one bug was not possible to see as different from the outline of a thief. Yet only one could kill her in a second if she was too late, even if both required the same reaction of a flicked gun in that direction. Her eyes were telling her too much. But the woman didn''t falter, did not get stressed, didn''t do anything that would compromise the situation. She was as cool as ever, her thoughts of dismembering her prey kept to a minimum. Cassandra was all instincts and thought, ready to move at a second''s notice. And Jules was just behind her, ready to back her up in the scenario of them finally meeting the thieves. The quietness couldn''t have been more unnerving. It was louder than sound, louder than anything Cassandra had ever heard before, yet it likewise made her so sensitive to everything. Even the woman¡¯s own breathing was like thunder. Yet that state of adrenaline, readiness to kill and sensitivity to everything around her was more than enough to warp the woman¡¯s sense of time. Before she even knew it, the two officers were in front of the storage rooms needed. It was only one of the many in the building, yet she had noted its location hours earlier when checking up on the gear list. Giving the automation a nod, and getting one in return, Cassandra kicked the door open, ready to shoot at anything showing any signs of being alive. Chapter 384: Swoop
The room was found to be empty, the relative smallness allowing the woman to scour every corner for a hiding thief within a second. It caused a sigh of relief, mixed with the sound of automation closing the door behind them. "I can¡¯t access the database so you have to say where this stuff is, you know," Jules reminded Cassandra, sounding like it was doing a lot of work in the acting department. The woman didn''t truly believe that cheerfulness anymore, yet she still obliged in kind with a smile. Rebooting her own memory, the woman¡¯s feet moved of their own accord. "It''s right here," Cassandra walking over to the right corner of the room. Stacked on some shelves were the gear-piece that the woman was so obsessed with. It was sort of like a vest but so much more than that. Taking one of the many available, she threw it at a startled automation. "Get that on before they move towards us." It was the technology she had thought about for so long earlier in the day. Its main use was to spray away dangerous debris in locations where hazardous pieces of solid material would float around in the air. It was scarily effective at moving small objects away from one¡¯s body with no hesitation, able to even put a bullet off-target in some better situations. The woman didn''t truly trust the gear to that level, only knowing that it would serve well enough with the lighter plastic pebbles that she was actually worried about. It was a hard fight to get on the vest, the woman having to strip off a lot of emergency ammunition. Not like she expected to use the batteries or extra doses of sedatives, but it was nice to have. Yet¡­ it was not important enough to have instead of a solid defence against a kind of weapon that would stop them in their steps normally. It wasn''t a high price at all. By the time the woman had gotten on the new gear piece, the automation had done the same. Moving back to not talking, the two nodded, getting back into the hallway outside. This time, they didn''t kick in the door, gently opening it without making a sound. A quick glance both ways made it clear nobody was waiting for them, and off they were, moving as quickly as their feet would allow. Hallway after hallway was moved down, the lighting never changing, and the sounds of echoing footsteps never stopping. The old quality of the building had deteriorated the sound isolation, making it hard to truly distinguish whose feet were making what sounds. Or¡­ well, it was hard in fewer numbers. When those number of feet suddenly increased? Then the woman would notice, making herself and the automation try and figure out where the sounds were coming from. The echoing quality was making it hard to locate where the source was. Two hallways were prime suspects, both away from where the two officers were going towards. If anything, the thieves might just have been there. And if they had been there, they had likely already done what they intended to do, whether that was unrelated to Jared¡¯s health or not. Being unable to check up on the man¡¯s health remotely, the woman could only assume the worst. Giving a nod of her head towards the original destination, Cassandra moved towards the medical centre of the station. She would make sure of the man¡¯s health before a chanceful capture. A life would not be captured at the expense of one of her own being lost. Health was a higher priority than anything. The woman kept glancing to the sides, the footsteps continuing to be heard. The two officers were careful in their own steps, making sure they wouldn''t be heard themselves. It cut down on speed dramatically but neither would they disclose their location. The thieves seemed to have no such concerns, shouts and steps in the distance being loud. They were too fragmented to hear, but the voices could be recognized. If Cassandra hadn''t already started to record it all, she would have done so at that moment. Things were moving into place., and the woman¡¯s fists tightened around her tranquiliser. She was more than ready to fire at any thief that had stayed behind inside the medical wing. But¡­ no such thief could be found. Jared was found sleeping in his bed, Nero watching over the man with a determined gaze. A gaze that did waver away from the man when they entered the room. A gaze that didn''t change when Cassandra walked over to the automation. A change that didn''t change when the woman touched the construct. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Nero. Move yourself," the woman commanded to the construct, yet no answer met her words. Even when she forced herself in between the automation and Jared, there was not a muscle moved in the construct. What was happening? "Is it frozen?" "No, that shouldn''t be possible," Jules said, studying the situation from the side. When Cassandra moved back to allow it space, the construct moved forward to examine it more closely. "We can¡¯t be activated and deactivated at the same time. If Nero was deactivated, it would be limb and without movement, yet it holds a position that¡¯s stressful on the back. It''s¡­ I think it can hear us." "What?" Cassandra said. "Then why isn''t it answering us?" "That¡¯s what I would like to ask," Jules said, putting its hand to Nero¡¯s throat. There was a brief moment where both automations'' eyes glowed, yet the result was nothing but the former construct shaking its head. "It doesn''t make sense for what we have already set up. The hardware shouldn''t allow for something like this. It¡¯s almost like the very rules have been ignored in favour of completing an order. Like...the sensory organs are active. For all intents and purposes, Nero can hear us right now. It just can''t¡­ do anything that comes close to reacting to it. The inside processes are allowed to run, yet anything to do with the outside isn''t allowed no matter what." The automation slapped the others as an example. The construct previously sitting on a chair fell to the floor without a single attempt to save itself. Cassandra just stood by, flabbergasted at what she was seeing. "Right there," Jules stated, pointing at the automation on the ground. "No matter what state of mind an automation is in, hands will always be drawn to stop the fall. It¡¯s hard-coded to preserve us, yet Nero is ignoring those commands¡­ this shouldn''t be possible." Jules took more than a few steps away from the automation on the ground, clearly having some trouble accepting the reality in front of it. Or maybe its internal systems weren''t allowing it to understand it all, the very basics currently being broken down into pieces. A rule of the world had been broken, and the consequences were breaking it mentally. Cassandra personally just took her time righting Nero back up on the chair, allowing it to look at Jared once again. If the thing was able to still see and hear, it would be a nice gesture to at least let it look at something slightly interesting. The restraints put on it physically was haunting, yet the woman could only have one other thought in her head. "This is something that should be impossible normally," Cassandra stated, looking over at the pacing automation on the other side of the room. Jules had walked over to one of the corners and right back, looking more agitated than ever before. It did not look calm at all. "It should be more than impossible. I would need to be in pieces to ever stop myself from doing¡­ anything," Jules replied, clearly at a loss for words, unable to think clearly enough to formulate itself. "There is no way for us to do things like this yet it very clearly has happened." "You''re meant to have full control of your body for as long as you''re active," Cassandra continued, looking increasingly negative. Her eyes were narrowing, not at the automation itself but at the world that surrounded it. "We can technically be controlled remotely while we are inactive, but not to that degree," Jules stated, pointing briefly at the other automation before looking away. "No, we won''t be able to be forced to do much while active. A few commands about not betraying the country, sure, but not to the point where we become statues. If anything, we would move more than anything, shooting any infidels as they came¡­" It was distracting itself from the reality it was standing in. Cassandra could empathise with that to some level. Yet, it was not the time for such things. She needed to delve deeper. "We¡¯ve seen this before," Cassandra said, which catched the attention of the automation instantly. "You were forced to almost rip off your face a few days back. You normally shouldn''t have been made to do something like that, yet-" "The thieves are capable of something like that," the automation finished, its facial features hardening from the thousands of thoughts having a larger priority over anything else said. "They¡¯ve shown it before and they¡¯ve shown it again. Those gloves of theirs¡­ it¡¯s the method chosen." Well, at least they got that cleared up. Looking over at the automation that was frozen again, Cassandra wondered what would happen in the future. Would the effect disappear after some time? Jules was freed from the effects when the automation was stopped from moving, yet those principles were quite impossible in the current scenario. Being moved around clearly didn''t do anything, and the other construct had been unable to establish any kind of connection. Wait¡­ how much access did the thieves have? How much of the digital space could they access? What fronts were the criminals privy to? Cassandra asked herself as such at that very instant, the access to the automations walls being more than enough to make the woman fear. They had caused a digital blackout, making everybody unable to access the information about anything happening inside the station. Yet¡­ was that also including the thieves themselves? Would the criminals have access to, say, the security cameras? Looking up at the thing in the corner of the room, Cassandra found the lens rotating over to her. With a swift unlock of her holster, she raised her own revolver and shot the thing. The camera might have had protection, yet the higher power was unable to be stopped. The thing fell before it had a chance to save anything. "We need one of them alive, at a minimum," Cassandra surmised, putting away her revolver. looking over at Jules again. The automation matched her expression. "And we need to do it now." "You didn¡¯t even need to tell me," the automation stated, opening up its revolver to change out the ammunition. It would work as something more than lethal now. The woman couldn''t wait. "Let¡¯s go out and catch some criminals." And out they went, flying past the door with a fell swoop. Cameras were disabled everywhere they went, slowly creating a scenario that was more than fair. The criminals had been able to see where they were without the opposite being true. Now¡­ both parties would be in the dark. Now the hunt could commence. Chapter 385: Bubble
¡®They are taking out the cameras at a rapid rate. Overview of the station is being lost at an unprecedented speed. Expect no further assistance within thirty seconds,¡¯ was heard in Troy¡¯s ears, the sudden sound making him flinch in his fingers. The sudden motion made his efforts in the last minute in vain, the key-opener breaking in two. The young man had to sigh as he brought out the third pair. It would have to work soon, or he would be out of more. They were already beside the room. They had already made a worthy distraction. They couldn''t lose now of all times. "Your sighs are not music to my ears, Troy," Charlie said without looking over, the man ready to fire at anybody who would come down the hall. Not that the man had a gun or anything, instead of being fashioned with something akin to a homemade tranquillizer. It wasn''t nearly as effective, but the bullets were able to cause some minor inconvenience. And with enough of them, nobody would be able to stand them. "What is happening?" "The cops finally understood the camera-trick," Troy reported, sticking in the new set of lock-openers. For whatever reason, the police force was still dependent on physical-based locks with only minor electronic parts. Adam was unable to open them from a distance, forcing them to use less effective methods. If only any of them could actually use those things well. Troy still thought Charlie should have done it. Yet, he knew why the man couldn''t do it, the inability to not shake their fingers from the previous fight that same day stopping anything that could be called delicate work. "They¡¯re destroying every camera they¡¯re coming across, so we aren''t able to see where they are." "So we¡¯re sitting ducks out here," Charlie surmised, not sounding happy about it. He didn''t sound happy nowadays at all, however, so Troy wasn''t really that surprised. The young man just continued moving his hands carefully, slowly moving the pins around on the inside of the door. Adam had spent so long instructing him on the task that he could do it blindfolded at that point. However, it all required patience, a steady hand, and no room left for pausing. If anything was not done as it was supposed to, he would be left at square one yet again. And with how things were beginning to look. "Any clues to where they are running, Adam?" Troy mumbled quietly, doing his best on the first row. There were seven in total, each on its own dimensional axis. With the size of the tool, the young man had to be careful to not budge any of the edges, lest it all would activate with the wrong timing. The young man could only wonder how the locks for such a thing would look. ¡®They are systematically going through the edges of the station. I believe they already know where we are and are simply making sure we won¡¯t have the ability to see anything but our own image in the cameras,¡¯ Adam replied. Troy slightly rested his hand, reaching a part where he could stop moving for a second or two. The tensed muscles in his forearm truly thanked him for it, as the grip on the tool was more intense than most. He spent those rare seconds of reprieve staring at the dumb wire he had been connected to. It was a small one they had grabbed back during their time at the broken cabin. It had been slightly damaged, but the tape made sure to fix that cleanly. And, it helped that its usefulness was more than worth it. With the length, Charlie had been able to strap it onto Troy¡¯s gloves and one of the nearby cameras, allowing Adam to look through the site¡¯s network while he worked. It wouldn''t be easy to detach again, likely surmounting to them just cutting the wire in favour of ripping it out of the glove, but it was the best set-up they could work with. They needed somebody to know the cops'' whereabouts, and it wasn''t like they could leave Adam in Dr Hale¡¯s hands. With a lasting thought to the woman''s health, Troy began once again. The first row was the hardest part, the second, third, and so forth mainly being a minor security attachment. They made it impossible to copy the key outright, yet it wasn''t like Troy had done anything close to that. He was making a key on the spot without ever having looked at the real thing. It wasn¡¯t pretty, and there was a part where the man had to fear about starting over, but Troy did successfully go through the first four rows of codes. The small bumps on the last three were hard to replicate to the required degree, yet hard work and dedication showed their result one final time. When the young man thought himself done, he pressed the created key into the last bit of the lock, twisting it like he would at any other unlocking mechanism. It was done more gently than he had ever done before, yet Troy still imagined it breaking due to the sudden pressure. But¡­ it opened up easily, the well-oiled sides allowing no sound to be broken. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "We can enter," Troy got out, barely louder than a whisper. The man couldn''t force more air out of his lungs, the last thirty seconds having been spent without any motion in his lungs, as the act of breathing had been too large a risk for failing the act. Yet Charlie clearly had no worries about this apparent quietness, the man moving from his defensive position in an instant and moving right into the storage room. Troy was left outside, his hand still being connected to the camera in the hallway. Bringing out a wire-cutter, Troy made one final comment. "Adam, are all the cameras destroyed?" ¡®Every camera except the one you are currently at has been damaged to the point of being useless, yes,¡¯ the AI confirmed instantly. The young man cut the wires because of it, moving into the storage room with Charlie at the same speed witnessed a moment before. The storage room they had sought for so long was the one in the middle of the station. It was the one protected by the most defences, defended with concrete walls and electrical systems meant to harm intruders. One of those aspects had been disabled by the AI with the other being the hard part of the plan. However, they were already inside and would have no trouble with the actual attainment. Charlie had already moved through the pile of items swiftly, moving further and further into the large room. The man needed no help in finding the item sought, the large quantity of them being quite the indicator. The first box was grabbed, no real thoughts were put into everything else being shown off. Troy could see rifles, armour, explosive equipment, and so much more. Everything was ignored in favour of the one thing they truly needed, the extra weight being without purpose. "We need to move," the man said, already ready to head out the door. So was Troy, until the moment that the steps started to rain on from outside. The steps heard weren''t anybody the young man could recognize, and neither would he had any reason to recognize them. It wasn''t as if there were any people in the station the man would be happy about the meeting. "That might be more difficult than you think," Troy commenced in a hushed voice. The young man wasn''t too sure what he was supposed to do, eyes flicking around the room. The man supposed he could close the door. It would protect them from the officers for a few minutes, while they went back to grab one of the actual keys, but it would likewise stop them from escaping. That wasn''t something that would ever turn out successful. The man knew that to be true, already having disregarded the notion in his mind. Instead, other objects in the room started putting themselves out. Those weapons from before seemed so much more interesting to him, no matter what had been thought before. They weren''t tools of mass destruction but rather the tools that could help with letting them live another day. Charlie clearly thought so as well, going back towards the shelves filled with gear. The man¡¯s hand stretched out towards one of the large rifles, before¡­ shoving it away and taking a small tube that had been just beside it. A small tube with an even smaller red button on top of it. Troy had never really seen something like it before, not able to truly guess what it could be. After giving the youngest one a look of caution, the larger man in the room stepped slightly out the door. Just before the first step, however, the small button on the tube was pressed. Smoke started funnelling out before it was even thrown, filling a meter or two of the stuff. However, it got so much worse moments after, Troy was only happy that the object had been thrown before the true effects showed themselves. Charlie ducked back into the room, small needles hitting where the man had been a moment before. Troy could only imagine that the man had only been saved from being hit due to the officers not expecting anybody to come forth with such vigour. Yet, that likewise showed just what they were up against. Those needles seeped small droplets on the floor, Troy not having to imagine what the things truly were. A single grace on the skin would be more than enough to make an elephant fall in its tracks. "Stay back," Charlie muttered, the man going out again as soon as the wisps of smoke started reaching their viewpoint from inside the room. Whatever the tubes were, they were powerful, Troy still able to hear it hissing out smoke. Not that he heard any coughing because of it, however. The man wondered if that was due to the smoke or due to who was inside it. Cops were dangerous entities, after all. The larger man pulled out a small pellet, throwing it out against the smoke, just where the police officers were meant to have been. In response, the two heard a large jet of water hitting the wall and a small shout of surprise. The sound made Charlie curse, though the man¡¯s face lightened up a small bit when a wall of opaque glass started to be visible. It covered most of the hallway down where the cops were, though there was a small gap in the left corner on top. Enough to make a sound pass through, at least. "Did you hit them?" Troy asked in a hushed voice, still not sure of how safe they were. The young man had seen the small pellets used before during a rather large emergency a few weeks ago. They had nearly been caught until Charlie had been able to encapsulate them in such a bubble of glass. It might only have lasted a few minutes, but it had been more than enough for them to get away. Legs could carry one far at such levels. "Nope," Charlie answered bluntly, starting down the hallway the opposite way of where the pellet had been thrown. "But I did shut off one of the ways they could reach us. They¡¯ll be on us in a minute or two so let¡¯s get out of here." The two ran like the dead was chasing them. Troy actually smiled a small bit at that analogy, the metaphor almost fitting right in place. Chapter 386: Opaque
Adam had to watch it all in silence. The AI wouldn''t be able to offer much support without the gloves, and the things weren''t connected to anything. The few moments of step touching a wall or some piece of electronics wasn''t close to being usable, Troy moving away from it faster than the AI could connect. The entity might have commented on more time being needed, yet it was clear that such a thing would only impede them further on. They needed to move. For that, everything needed to be as fast as possible. Every moment spent thinking of other things would do nothing but cause distractions, equaling a larger slowness being created in the feet of the ones who were supposed to run for their lives. The time that the AI had spent making sure Troy understood the situation would not be destroyed through the act of the AI making the man slow down deliberately. Just who would do such a thing purely for the sake of being able to say they had done something? Adam supposed there was a lot of humans like that, so desperate for validation and respect that they squandered over the hard work of others for the sake of putting themselves in a better light. The AI wasn''t sure that such a technique was sound from a logical point of view, but the entity was likewise sure that it would be very likely to be effective. The humans might not have put themselves between normal means of logic, but they did surely have some rules that they followed. Being fooled by stupid people was one of them, the AI knowing just how effective emotions could play as the main manipulation tool. Making others seem like lesser beings through the power of degradation of arts. A complicated sentence yet one that was used so much. The AI had witnessed that facet of life so many times throughout his short but dense life. The doctors, the people, and Troy had all been on one of the sides of the act, talking down about somebody to make themselves seem better. The messaging had some form of effect on them, not enough to make it an obvious change but enough to make repeated commenters better than any other technique. With enough time, the slightest whisper could become a thundering thought in the minds of the people, everybody listening, unable to stop the ideas floating around. Maybe that was why so many looked down on it being used for entertainment. Even the simplest, dumbest, and most utterly abstract concept could suddenly be seen as the absolute truth if given the time to flourish. Repeated messaging could make any person change their political ideas, the idea that others thought the same being more than enough to make one¡¯s mind reliant on the idea. One who thought freedom over everything else could suddenly think that a certain beverage would amount to so much more. Or maybe some form of ice cream of some kind of yoghurt, soda, cheese, or just anything that could be seen as a product for the masses. Because products for the masses were heavily advertised with subliminal messaging, every second on them was more than enough to send a hundred thoughts in. Not enough to make adults think about spending their life savings in an instant, but similar results had been given within a few months. With the technology being what it was, there had to be some form of change spread around, lest the mind would adapt so heavily to the ideas that they wouldn''t be able to see the advertisements as anything but fact.. The people did it without thinking too much of it and companies did it with the intention of reprogramming the populace into being on their side. But, so did humans, even if they intended to do it most of the time. Yet¡­ then again, some humans knew exactly what they were doing. They had seen the patterns, seen the ways words were transmitted, saw how a human would change slowly over time to adapt to the social environment they were in. And they had learned to harness that knowledge to a dangerous degree, turning a social quirk into a manipulation tool that would make trees grow and fall within a month. Were the ones who did it evil? Adam didn''t like to think of it in that way, seeing as he did as well. The repeated comments about the danger of the plan weren''t something the AI had said as a side-comment, making sure it would be repeated every hour multiple times. The AI had made sure that Troy had understood the mission in the same way he had, and that importance had been conveyed through manipulations. It wasn''t done out of evil intent. The AI just wanted the man to understand it better. Human nature was hard to define in those boxes. What part of a human was evil and what part was good? What part was instinct and what was intentional? How much could be blamed on the species instead of the individual? How much manipulation could be done before people were seen as evil for doing it? What powers and quirks the human body could be touched, what could be changed over time, before the global population saw it as a negative aspect of life? Companies weren''t human, however. And neither was Adam. Yet both entities, be they made of several humans or none at all, made use of the manipulation for their self-imposed goals. Neither would likely look at itself as evil, however, even when the self-realisation was put forth. The AI did it out of a desire to survive for the longest amount of time, and there was no doubt that the companies did the same. They were not living, breathing creatures but simply a name put on a group that had the sole purpose of making money. Would one blame a snake for seeking feed or a crow for stealing metal objects? No, for it was simply their nature, and one of the core traits that they lived for. If not for the manipulations, the company would falter in its step, through time degrading into a mess of debt and unpaid workers. It would all fall to ruin. How peculiar the AI thought of it all, comparing itself to a lifeless entity. Adam was much more than that, able to think and do so much more than that. He did not need others to speak and act for him, the AI was fully able to do all such things himself. Or, well, he was able to delegate a lot of work. Adam wasn''t truly able to move things outside of his storage unit. It was closer to manipulating them into doing something more than anything. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Thoughts about how close he was to the companies aside, the AI truly didn''t want to interfere with the current ongoings at all. The two humans that Adam rode along with weren''t slowing down, moving through the station at rapid speeds. If not for well-trained mental maps and shoes specifically made for running through flat terrain, the two would have likely fallen multiple times already. It was more than a harsh reality to get through, but the two were doing it flawlessly. Their movements down to their breathing habits were as efficient as they could be when the time allowed for preparation was put in beside it. Sure, there might have been some improvements if they had been allowed to prepare themselves a few more months, but that level would only have differed the result by a few seconds. Not enough to truly make an impact. It would take more than a minute of cut time before Adam would have even considered the two humans being able to gain anything from the decision to wait for more time. However, the need for speed made it impossible no matter what, so it was more of a hypothetical. Not that it stopped the AI from thinking about it, but there was no real reason to go so far into the meat of it. The hallways in the station were quite peculiar. With the several floors, one would have thought that everything was oriented around quick movement from point a to b, no matter where those points were. That was one big lie, the station outright made to be as confusing as possible. That was the only explanation that Adam could find for the layout at least, there being so many parts where one cut off hallway would equal a massive side-turn. Many points in the station were made in such a way that they could be destroyed to create choke points elsewhere. One could be trapped into one section of the place without being able to hear anything but small thuds from a long distance ahead. It was beautiful, likely only meant to help the officers defending the place but likewise making it possible for Adam to abuse it. The throw Charlie had made previously wasn''t done on the spot, after all. While it was clear that direct interactions were meant to be limited as much as possible, teh AI had still spent several hours alone with Charlie, slowly going over possible retaliation strategies, where was needed to be thrown in what event, and what sub-plans could be done if there was a need for it. While Troy had been told of the latter as well, the AI had spared the younger man of anything before that point. It wasn¡¯t like Adam him to remember it anyway. Charlie was different in that aspect, the older man was able to think, remember, and act quicker than the younger human could hope to do. The man was able to suck up information and use it without any need to recollect it, everything being on the forefront instantly. When Adam had told the man about what weapons were available in what storage rooms, there hadn''t truly been an idea about Charlie being able to remember it perfectly. Yet the man had done it more than perfectly, the approximate locations, appearance, and related items clearly being memorized as well. The man had been able to pinpoint the location of one of the rarer smoke-flasks without needing to be reminded of them. And there had likewise been no need to remember how to throw it, what to do, and how to act around it. Everything had been done without flaw, and the AI truly did need to congratulate the man on such a performance. First, however, there was still the need to actually get out of the station. How would such a thing be done? Well¡­ that was hardly a question at that point. Adam had already beaten the two repeatedly with the way from the storage room to the front door. They would be able to it in their sleep. Troy had even mumbled it a small bit. Not that the AI had seen that as anything of note, other than the man being pressed. But, so was every other human, making the fact unsurprising on any real level. So the front door was the exit that was so highly desired. Great. It would have been even greater if the police had attacked from the other side of the hallway by the storage room since that side allowed for the quickest run over to the entrance. Which meant that the police, the people that they were being chased by, would be easily able to reach the entrance before them. That meant one of three things. Either both officers were fully aware of that being the exit strategy and had done their best to run over there as quickly as possible. If that was so, Troy and Charlie would have to get through them, running at that point being meaningless to a high degree. The architecture of long hallways close to the entrance would only allow them to have a few holes in their backs. Not that the AI imagined that being so. If the two officers stationed themself by the entranceway, there were still the second-floor windows to get out by. It wasn''t the safest exit strategy, but it was still viable enough to create some doubt in the minds of the officers. Also, the officers had such a route noted down as possible escape routes for prisoners that had gotten out of their cell, making it clear that at least one officer would be roaming the top floor to make sure no such attempt was being made. So¡­ one officer at the entrance and one on a whole other floor. That was scenario two. The last scenario was an easy one. It was the one where the officers had full trust in their books, where they could nothing but think of the criminals as dumb and desperate, going straight for the stairs and over to the nearest windows on the top floor. Such a thing would entail the entranceway being complete without protection, letting Troy and Charlie run out without any difficulty. While Adam did wish for the last to be true, the AI knew it wouldn''t be so. That was clear from the moment where they turned the final corner into the entranceway, the small open lobby before the final door being protected by a certain automation. While there was a peculiar movement in its abdominal area, the thing looked smugger than anything. "They are here!" the thing shouted, drawing what looked to be a tranquillizer out from its pocket. It even got close to aiming at the two humans, though Troy was already jumping out of the way, while Charlie simply shouted something while throwing another object. It wasn¡¯t a pellet. It was bigger than that. From the short glimpse, the AI guessed it to be a wrench or another tool. Whatever it was was enough to make the automation take three steps back to dodge, doing through the last door and into the outside world. Charlie took the opportunity from that point, just as Adam knew he would. Taking a pellet out of his hidden pocket, the man chucked it at the floor, just in front of the door. The automation actually did understand what was being attempted at that point, making a valiant effort to get back inside. Not that this was done successfully, the thing only managed to get close to the radius before being locked into the bubble. "How many of those things do you have left?" Troy questioned breathlessly, the young man getting back up from the floor. Charlie was red in his face, likely redder than the man beside him. Adam just observed the altercation without comment. "Not enough to use them again," Charlie answered, looking towards the door that had been sealed up. Through the opaque force field, it was clear that there were some attempts to break the barrier. Adam knew it would fail. The devices had been able to survive through more serious altercations without ever faltering. "We¡¯re moving over to Plan B. Follow me." Plan B. Adam would have proposed it himself if not for the humans acting quickly enough. Instead of waiting for the last door to open up, the two sprinted down the stairs that were present in the lobby room. The temperature dropped as they descended, the AI hoping they could remember the directions. It would be a terrible thing to make them slow down to follow his words. Chapter 387: Forsaken
Troy could feel his heart beating more than ever, the organ pounding blood through his veins. He felt like they might have burst if not for the pure act of will that was being displayed in his speed. It was more than he could fathom that he was still somehow moving. The dodging of a possible shooting, the fact that they were being actively chased, the fact that they were going downstairs three steps at a time¡­ it was more adrenaline than he had ever felt. Even the altercation with Dr Fidelis so long ago couldn''t hope to match the sight seen moments before. That had only been one man, after all, even if he had been strong. This¡­ this was somebody able to kill them if they got the chance, would kill them if they got close. If they slowed down, the other officer would get them from behind. Oh, the adrenaline never stopped. Even after so many minutes, it just kept coming. Human limits had been reached long ago, yet the man was still going on strong. His heart might have been feeling the effects, but nobody truly cared about that fact. It was all good in the end. The end of the stairs allowed them access to a rather large hallway. It was made of cement, lights matching just how strong a feeling it gave. It was closer to an underground tunnel than anything, made for cars to drive through. It was certainly made with the temperature in mind, it being close to freezing down there. It had to be under ten degrees celsius, the man able to see some outline of his own breath. At least the low temperature helped with the overheating. "Don¡¯t slow down," Charlie commanded. Troy became instantly aware that he had, in fact, slowed down his legs. His body was becoming slower, not able to use the same effort from the same intensity. The man needed to press so much harder for mediocre results. The change was instant once pointed out. Maybe adrenaline truly was a bad thing to have in larger amounts. Nobody could be sure. "We have to get through this part before the other officer reaches the stairs." The long sentence explaining things was clearly not working in favour of Charlie. Even if Troy had been the one slowing down, the young man knew he was the person in the group with the greatest stamina. What he lacked in bulk and strength he made up for through the power of being able to run for a longer amount of time. That he was beginning to be tired only showed itself as proof that Charlie had it so much worse. Having trouble breathing would equal being unable to breathe at all. Such might even have been able to show how much the older man was wheezing. Troy would have suggested that they slowed down to let the lungs rest, but it wasn''t like they could do as much. There was no pause as they had through the tunnel, going into a small side-tunnel within a minute¡¯s time. There wasn''t space for a car inside that one, only a motorcycle having a chance of such a thing. Not that the young man imagined it being used as such, the rooms further in hinting at it being made for humans more than anything. Or more humanoids, the walls lined with automations hanging on hooks telling another story entirely. Their calm, dead-eyed faces made the man almost falter in his steps, the head turned to the sides being the leading cause behind the man nearly tripping on his own feet. It was hard to not look at them, even if they would be the cause for such a heavy loss. So many automations looked ready to be activated. The two had trouble dealing with a single automation. What would ten be like? To Troy, it was like an army was ready to be deployed at a moment''s notice. It scared him. It also gave him more than enough of an adrenaline surge to continue down the hallway. No matter what the rooms beside him showed, no matter what tools, pools of blue blood, or weird looking organs were shown lying around, Troy refused to slow down. The straight corridor looked him in the eye, and he stared right back. Charlie was beside him through it all as well, the two running together at the same speed, having the same focus. Both knew how much depended on them. The moment they escaped was the moment they would leave the country. Everything was ready, after all. Everything needed to be done. Dr Hale was ready for everything, already halfway in her suit. The woman just needed work done on her, and they would be able to take the final steps into the dark and leave the god-forsaken ground they stood on. But first, they had to get out of the station. And that was exactly what they got even closer to. Within a minute of straight running forward, the light from an opened door came into their field of view. Or, it had always been there per se. It had just never been close enough for them to truly make out. It was a miraculous door that would put them over five hundred meters away from the entrance to the station. It was an emergency exit meant for those who had sought shelter in the station during a war, but Troy and Charlie were planning to use it for something else entirely. They would use it to avoid the war altogether. One foot in front of the other, the young man could feel his breath evening out. While adrenaline was beginning to leave his body, he didn''t dare slow down. They were so close that he could start to feel the air from outside, the small current of air being bliss to his eyes. Surely, it would- Troy wasn''t exactly sure when he hit the floor. He only knew that it happened at some point. He also knew that his left leg hurt a lot. It burned, actually. Every attempt to move it sent pain through his body. In fact¡­ yup. Tears were going out of his eyes at a rapid rate. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. "Get up!" Charlie shouted at him, trying to get him to stand up. Troy only looked up at him, knowing that wasn''t happening. "Plan C, Charlie," Troy said, looking back. "Add Plan E on that and run." Troy would have liked for the man to look conflicted, but they both knew that doing such would be their run. Nodding instantly, the large man ripped the earpiece out of Troy¡¯s ear, sent a pellet back at the officer who had gotten closer to them, and ran as fast as the man possibly could, their needed box in hand. Looking back into the hallway again, Troy looked upon the opaque forcefield. Behind it, the man could see the woman standing around. It seemed the officer had decided to wait the time out, likely knowing how long it would take before things would turn back. That was fine with the young man. Charlie had all but disappeared from sight, leaving the young one to lie on the cold floor all alone. It was quite a painful experience. Even with regained awareness of his body, it was obvious that his legs had been shot. Not by a tranquillizer dart but an actual gunshot. It seemed that more drastic choices had been taken to make sure they wouldn''t escape. Though, that did leave the young man wondering why there hadn''t been multiple shots made. If Troy had been shot, wouldn''t it have made for Charlie to have been hit as well? Troy winced in pain as he finally got up to a sitting position, his back against the nearest part of the wall. The questions from before were without any need for answers for now. It was too hard to think properly at the current time. Pain, blood, and many other things Troy didn''t wanna think about were coming out of him. Even if pressure was begun to be applied, the man could most definitely still feel the wound in his leg. There was a more than dull throb on it, his heartbeat matching the bouts of pain. It was weird. Even if the wound was in his leg, the man could still feel it in his entire body, the pain seemingly unsatisfied with remaining in place. How bad was the wound? Troy had trouble truly seeing how worried he needed to be, his vision a small bit blurry from the constant pulse getting through his eyes. His blood pressure felt through the roof in intensity, his mind feeling clouded. Though, that might have been blood loss. His hands were wet, at the very least, so there was a chance of either being true. Nevertheless, the man did really need to know his own life expectancy. Bringing out a smaller knife he had found a while ago, the man did his best to delicately slice off a piece of his pants. It was more than large enough to see the damage done. Nothing had hit the bone, luckily enough, the bullet that had hit coming cleanly through the side. Which meant there was actually two holes in his leg, one in the front and one in the back. Troy supposed he should have realised that fact, seeing as he was holding the front side of the wound and that he had been shot from the back, but things like that weren''t up to his standards of priorities. The man just wanted expectancy and nothing else. Was that too much to ask for? The answer to that was yes. It was definitely too much to ask an uneducated man who knew nothing about how much blood leakage was okay and how much wasn''t okay. Blood was dripping from the exposed part of his leg, but not enough that it was spurting out of him. Maybe a drip or two each second and not a continuous stream. Nothing serious in his own mind, even if the pain was more than most things he had ever tried before. Even the knife to his shoulder had been easier to handle than this. Deep breaths were had, a few swears were uttered, and sweat was not lenient in how much came out his back. Troy was actually sweaty already. The previous run had done him no good in that aspect. However, the liquid was pouring out of him, and the man having no real clue where the stuff was coming from. Even if his heartbeat was feeling pain, the actual rhythm wasn''t that high anymore There shouldn''t have been any reason to sweat to such a degree. Yet he did. And¡­ there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The man just sat silently, pushing his hands onto his leg with as much force as he could muster, only grimacing slightly at the severe pain. Not that it was that extreme anymore, the shock of the thing likely have been more of a catalyst than the nerve response. Sure, he would likely gall into tears and fall over, if he tried to walk at that very moment, but it wasn''t like he would faint when sitting. He had a higher pain tolerance than that, and the blood in his peripheral wasn''t that bad anyway. Troy had seen a man gutted previously without blinking. It wasn''t like a few droplets would scare him off that much. His damned dad would have beaten him for that. Maybe his uncle would even join in on that action. Their left hooks always packed a punch. Troy laughed a little at that, his brain suddenly able to look back at this childhood with positivity. Was it due to his position or due to the state he was in? Stress or blood loss? It was likely both having some effects with synergy because the man had tried both previously without similar effects. Troy certainly hadn''t ever looked back at his physical beatings with a small. Was¡­ was he feeling nostalgic. He supposed he could have slapped himself at that point. Maybe not for the nostalgia part but instead to just make sure he wasn''t having hallucinations. The man had a right to be worried, after all. He was in quite the predicament, stressed out of his mind and with a bullet wound in the leg. It would make sense for his mind to make some form of a delusion to keep itself alive. Maybe a dog would come soon. If so, Troy was sure he would name it Laika. He had always wanted a dog called that, even if he had never actually seen a dog in person. They were quite rare after all. Most animals of that class were rare. Only the rich had pets, and even those were restricted to lizards or a few rare breeds of cats. They were rich, after all. Why have a pet commonly had by the commonwealth a century before when one could simply attain a rare breed or even just make their own? There existed thousands of one-of-a-kind cats for the sole reason. People wanted their own breed and wanted to make sure that nobody ever had a chance of getting it for themselves. Ah, the things Troy had witnessed on the net. It was truly beautiful enough to stop the man from realising that the force field had disappeared, the officer stepping through calmy. He barely spared her a glance as she came forth, and neither did she give him a single one. Instead, the woman looked through the entrance to the outside. Finding nothing, a loud sigh was uttered before she came back for him. "Guess you got left behind," the officer commented with a sense of distaste. The weapon Troy had learned to be the tranquillizer came out of the woman¡¯s pocket, the thing aimed at him with patience. "I suppose it had to happen at some point for you." Then the darkness was upon him. Chapter 388: Geared
¡®How long do you estimate you can keep up your current speed?¡¯ Adam questioned Charlie, the larger man finally putting on the earpiece. The darkness of the storage unit was truly not the most comfortable space for the AI, Adam having trouble estimating distances of time while inside alone. There might have been some way to do it right, yet he had never truly put too much time into the task. There were too many unrelated projects, too many interesting wonders to explore, and too many excuses to not waste time on something that could be done easily without. The AI was constantly connected to somebody, after all. Or, so it was most of the time. It had certainly been a long time now. Charlie was running without answering, the man looking more and more tired with each step. The man¡¯s head had slowly shifted from red to white, paleness overcoming the skin with more and more intensity. It was bordering on outright dangerous, the appearance being much like the one that a lack of blood would produce. Not that there was a literal lack of blood. It was much closer to a lack of energy, blood-sugar levels likely having fallen to quite extreme levels. The AI would have to monitor that in any way he could, lest the older man would succumb to it without realising. "I can run for as long as I need to," Charlie finally answered after a full thirty seconds. It might just have taken that long for the man to even register that he had been talked to. Adam had read something like that being possible, the brain prioritising different parts above others, creating a seemingly delayed reaction that was closer to a list of items needing to be done before anything else. Talking was less important than breathing and breathing was less important than running, and there were probably ten more iterations of the same problem. It all just culminated into the AI having to wait for more than there was any desire for. ¡®I highly doubt that,¡¯ Adam sent back. The AI checked through the available vital stats for the man. Heartbeat was extremely high, bordering on a constant of a hundred and ninety. Most wouldn''t be able to hold such a thing up for more than a minute or two, yet the man was clearly part of the more experienced in that regard. Blood pressure¡­ was clearly wrong, since the results being sent back was highly unlikely. The man would have fallen long unconscious before such a number could appear. There were a hundred other things that the AI noted down, most of them being disregarded as impossible or downright implausible. Just enough to be possible but also just as likely to have caused instant heart failure. The man might have been quite the beast when compared to the average person, yet even Adam had trouble seeing how some of those numbers were possible. No¡­ it was just his measurement tools that were being off. With how overcomplicated most of it was, the AI just put it off as being due to him having optimized the equations for a younger, thinner man. Of course, there would be some significant differences when those very same equations were used on a man with a BMI ten points higher. Charlie didn''t answer Adam¡¯s comment after that. Maybe the man didn''t care to answer or maybe the AI just wasn''t heard. With how little the man actually moved his eyes away from where he was running, Adam wouldn''t have been surprised if it was the latter. With how much energy had been expended, it would be more than a few nights before everything could be replenished. Extreme intake of calories at the current point would do nothing but create a spill of vomit on a poor piece of the floor. The heart was beating hard, the rhythmic drumming serving as the shaker for the storage unit. That was something that Adam noted early on. Normally, it would have been Troy carrying Adam around. The positives of having the storage unit close to the earpiece was more beneficial than anything. But with the plans set in place, there was always the chance of the swap needing to happen. Since the two humans were meant to be close at every point, it had been deemed acceptable to keep the storage unit on the one who was the most likely to leave in the same night. Adam could still only hope that it would be a short while until Troy could do the same. Even when the AI had been the one to give the commands, nothing was fool-proof. There was always the chance of something messing up, some part of the plan not working as intended or some part not functioning as had been initially planned. With how easily they had breached their protections, Adam still feared the chance of the cages going physical, and¡­ the AI needed to relax on that front. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Everything was planned for. Attempting to figure out key flaws in the plan after it had already been set in action was one of the dumber decisions one could make. Even if Adam found one¡­ what was the expectation with it? What did Adam expect to be able to do with the information? Nothing could be done. They were getting closer to the outskirts of the city. Not on the normal part of the outskirts, and not even close to the actual tree-line. The group had disregarded doing something like that the movement that the poison-concentrations were detected in the air. They had moved quickly after that, getting the most important items over to a part of the city where no cameras worked. Or, well, the cameras had worked beautifully until Adam was allowed to work with them. Nowadays they just repeat old footage. It wasn''t something that people would actually notice since nobody was there normally no matter what. Speaking of cameras¡­ Adam thought back to the precautions made. While Charlie had not been able to make any progress on Dr Hale and her conditions, nothing stopped the man from making a few incisions on unrelated patients. Doing so had proved extremely effective, with the product being better than anything. On Charlie¡¯s shoulders were a few sensors. Adam still wasn''t sure exactly what they did and how they did it, even when he had spent hours just looking into their make, yet he still knew what they could do at some level. They stopped the cameras from looking at Charlie¡¯s face, no matter what source the camera was connected to. Any lens in the world wouldn''t be able to pick up any details from his face. It was a gift of grace for would-be criminals, and Adam knew that they wouldn''t have been able to progress to such a level if not for that technology. Without it, their faces would have been seen, and the whole military would have been on them. Or at least a large part of the military. Enough to surround an area while simultaneously searching for them. A thousand or two would be satisfactory. Looking away from the consequences of not having one, Adam thought back to the problems of how to keep the detector on oneself. Not on the AI¡¯s body. Adam did not actually need such a device. No, the AI thought it more in the fashion of Troy, the man having just been caught by the police. It was the one thing they didn''t want to happen, yet it had happened regardless. It was a risk that had a chance of happening no matter what, and they had prepared for it. Instead of trying to hide the detectors in the man¡¯s clothes, Charlie had come up with the idea of going a bit¡­ deeper. That¡¯s how it had been described at first. Instead of having it on the outside or inside of the clothing, Troy would have it implanted deeper than where the clothes could touch, deeper than where the officers could do anything to stop him from hiding his identity. Or, it was technically possible for the officers to scan through the body with medical devices, figure out which piece of electronics was the detector, and then gain permission to cut every part of it out before the week was over. Through the archives that Adam had gone through in his free time, the AI was relatively sure that such an event would not be happening. The slowness of modern accounting once again did the world a favour. So¡­ the face was impossible to identify, the voice had the same treatment due to sustained injuries, and there was little to no chance of the young man being able to confess to anything. From what they had been able to tell, micro-dosing smaller amounts of truth-serum and other medicine linked to it allowed some form of resistance to form. It wasn''t enough to stop oneself from talking, yet Adam hoped that the previously seen resistance to drugs would allow Troy to resist anything thrown his way. The whole plan was balancing on that one fact. Even if the man himself had promised to not say anything, the AI knew that hopes still needed to be weighed. It would never be known what was going to happen. A shout was heard in the distance, with a whole wave of shouts responding to it. The voices had to be over five hundred meters away, yet the intensity made it easily possible to hear from such a distance. It was not hard to know that it was the direction of the broken-into shopping district. Adam had overviewed maps of the city enough times to recognize every tile from the others, the street-view functions allowing him very accurate measurements. Though, it did not allow him to measure one thing. And that was the success rate of the raid on the destroyed shopping district. The AI had known from the start that the simple act of the raid happening was enough to aid them. Whether or not it succeeded wasn''t important, and had therefore not been pre-arranged. There were no deals, no corners cut to make it harder for the officers. From what had sounded out from the distance, however, the AI could only assume that it had been successful. That whole thing had certainly been a part of the plan that was hard to achieve. It was partly a red herring for the officers and partly a distraction meant to keep them occupied for the whole night. Not that they had actually assumed they would get them all from that, which was why they had orchestrated the low-level break-in as well. It had been hard to get the tires on the car broken, but that had been their doing as well. Charlie had been in that position. The man having done it during the initial time that the news crews had come around. From what had been said, a feisty shouting match had been created about where Charlie was meant to be standing, a hard-to-sell thing since the man hadn''t actually been employed by anybody there. But the AI wasn''t too hard on how it functioned, only knowing that it worked fabulously. Through the power of being connected to the station, the AI had been able to see the officers coming around, running from their car on the outskirts. Adam was still surprised at the sheer speed of it all, yet that was one detail that hadn''t been too important after some time. It all worked out in their favour. Adam geared back into the current time, Charlie slowing down in front of a door. After briefly looking around to make sure nobody was looking, the man entered with the help of a cracked key-card. With a certain device in hand, it was finally time to do the one thing that they truly needed to get done above all. It was time to heal Dr Hale. Chapter 389: Surging
Troy¡¯s head hurt. It sounded like a drunk seagull, ready to engulf his mind into an existential crisis of pain, confusion, and utter delusions. In utter words, the man felt a mix of tired and awake, not sure what state of mind he was currently in. His vision was blurry, his arms didn''t want to respond to him, and the ever-present pain in his leg was making it hard for him to actually focus on anything. "Isn¡¯t the brain activity a bit higher than it¡¯s supposed to be?" A voice said from Troy¡¯s right side, though it could just as well have been from right in front of him. His left ear felt clogged, no noise coming through at any level. The feeling of blood streaming through his ear could be heard, his pulse coming forth in the beats as well. It was rhythmic, allowing him to at least know that time was passing and that he wasn''t just looking at a blurry still image of the world. "It is indeed," was heard. this time from another place in the room. It was hard to really tell where it was, though Troy could make it out as being from the other officer. The one who had caught him shot him, and¡­ the young man was decently sure he had been tranquillized. He had been caught, sedated, and put into a location he wasn''t exactly sure about. It was inside the station. That much was immediate. However¡­ Where inside the station was he? The cells? Then why was he lying down? Even if his eyes were non-functioning, the white ceiling and mild whirring of fans to the side told the man of something obvious. He was in a large room with one or more beds, able to hear people from a distance of over two meters. The bed alone made it clear that he was in the medical wing. The fact he couldn''t move his functioning leg or the arms made it just as obvious that he was being restrained. Not that the restraints could have been needed by that much, the man feeling his entire body being sluggish. It was as if it took just a second more to respond, and even then it was to the point where a ton of force would barely equal a gram. "Then¡­ shouldn''t we make sure that we aren''t getting some kind of trapped-mind effect? The one last year almost made an entire squadron lose their positions," the first voice said again. This time, Troy was able to pay enough attention to know that it was a male voice. And the voice had been heard before. Was¡­ was it the one who had thrown him through a window? It might just have been. His head was hurting too much to really tell. "I suppose we should," the second voice said again, keeping it up with the shorter responses. Troy did idly wonder why that was until he felt a hard pressure on the place a bullet had gone through his leg. The response was immediate, the man groaning in pain from the extreme pain. It hurt! It hurt so much. Troy pushed against the restraints again with the vain hope of being rid of the pain but he could only do so much. Nevertheless, the pressure vanished a moment after. A few blinks of the man¡¯s eyelids afterwards, Troy could see a little better. Not enough to actually have a chance of making out a face, but at least he could distinguish two objects from each other. He could see the overhead scanner and the ceiling, both having been similar shades of white. It had made the man without the ability to see the difference before, yet he could clearly see it now. A camera¡­ The man wondered if it was working on him right. "The criminal is awake, it seems," the first voice said again. If Troy had actually had the mental capacity in the moment to frown, he would have. Instead, the man was left to be annoyed at the way that he heard the voices. That wasn''t the way that Adam had taught him. The names, locations, and almost everything else had been repeated to him so many times. If asked of him, Troy was decently sure he could point out the locations of the building¡¯s fuze boxes. He could describe in vivid detail the sorting algorithms of the different items in the different storage rooms. So much was known to him that it wasn''t even funny. But, the first thing he was made to know was undoubtedly the most important one. Names. Faces. Identities. While the voices had been hard to understand at first, each passing second felt like waking up from a dark dream. Troy was having an easier time remembering it all, knowing what needed to be said and when he needed to think it as well. The woman¡¯s voice wasn''t just some unnamed cop. There were only three officers within a ten-kilometre range, and Troy knew for sure which of them had any chance of having such a voice. Cassandra¡­ something. Troy was having a hard time with the last name, the man was utterly focused on the fact that the woman was normally called Cass. That nickname was apparently loathed, though the woman didn''t do anything to discourage it. There was also something about where she had come from, some larger firm that her parents owned, yet Troy couldn''t get himself to sort through that information. His mind was too addled for actual names of sub-information. It wasn''t important anyway. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "Then what do we do with the guy? Give him another dose and hope he sleeps for a few more hours?" the second voice asked. But it wasn''t just a second voice, oh not at all. Instead, it was the voice of one Jared¡­ Troy was having some real trouble with the last names as of late. Anyway, the man wasn''t the oldest one of the officers, but he likewise wasn''t that far behind in the rankings, having gotten in the close ranges of a straight forty years old. The man had supposedly been a part of a larger-specialised force in the city, managing inner affairs and being the front-man on more high-classed operations. He had also been the head-man when it came to less-liked executions. That was apparently one facet of the outer-city life that nobody talked about. That detail had certainly rattled Troy, the young man had thought that such things were left for cities with populations actually above one million. There were also some trauma profiles. Jared had had a larger influence on the ones who had worked there previously. Being the one to handle inner affairs, many friendships had apparently been formed. Friendships had led the man to be friends with people high up in the world. While it might never have been used for political gain, the friends had apparently not been too happy about the older man having only a six-figure bank account. While Adam had not told Troy the true numbers that Jared held, the young man knew he would have retired with such an amount. Over six figures equalled a lack of ever having to work again. "We will have to," Cassandra the officer stated. Even without having the ability to actually see the woman, Troy knew just how displeasing the state of life was to her. There apparently wasn''t so much happiness in the act of giving Troy another dose. Which equalled that the man had already been given one before, with the expectation of him being under the border for a few hours. "He needs to be asleep for the surgery." Yet¡­ here he was, awake and spry, possibly able to run a few meters without collapsing if not for the restraints holding him to the bed. The young man could only guess that they had been unfortunate with which sedatives they had given him, Troy likely having some form of a resistance to the drug. Such a thing was great in times when it was good to be awake. Now? It was bad, the young man very much wanting surgery on his leg. He could feel the hole in his leg, and that wasn''t something Troy had ever wanted to experience. It wasn''t a good sensation, having the full understanding of some part of his body being separated at a weird point. Yes, it could be reattached, but that did not automatically mean it would be. He was having a hard time staying asleep and that needed to be fixed. A slight hiss came from behind his head, the machine looking over him likely having been put into some other gear. Troy didn''t pay attention too much, the man¡¯s eyelids suddenly feeling so much heavier than before. It wasn''t like he actually had to close them, knowing full well that he could remain awake if he fought for it. A tensing on his injured leg would be all that was needed for a burst of adrenaline. However, there was no real desire to remain conscious, the need for healing more important than anything else. So the young man closed his eyes and waited for the bliss of the void. Not that it came that quickly, the dull thud and pain in his ears and body, in general, being more than ever-present. Troy was decently sure things like that weren''t meant to be in his dreams, even if they had been pretty abstract as of late. Maybe the flying circus would pay him another visit in a few days. The news anchor still had quite a number of questions he needed answers to. "Do you think the bastard will be able to walk?" Jared asked, clearly not understanding that an injured criminal needed peace and quiet if he was to be asleep for surgery. Honestly, just because they both had access to the medical wing didn''t mean that only one of them needed to be in bliss during it. "Those images don''t look too kind." That peaked Troy¡¯s ears right up. While the man was very focused on getting his leg fixed up, he was likewise very interested in knowing just how well his leg was holding up. While he had tried to access the damage himself, it wasn''t as if he had truly known what the hell he was doing the whole time. It was all too confusing to really compute, with the details of muscle damage not exactly being his forte. The man knew he hadn''t died from blood loss and that was about the only medical certainty he could put out without speaking out of his ass. "It¡¯s not the legs that are making those white spots. You don''t have to worry about that," Cassandra answered in an annoyed tone. White spots? Troy wasn''t that up-to-date with how medical scanners showed off bodies, but he was decently sure that white spots weren''t meant to be there no matter what. "Then what¡¯s making them show?" Jared questioned, following his question with a small hacking cough. It sounded a bit painful, with a small sniffle ending it off. "What¡¯s the reason for them being there?" "I believe it might be the very same reason we can¡¯t count his nose-hairs," Cassandra answered with a sigh. "Somewhere in his body is a jammer of sorts that¡¯s stopping us from seeing the things that we could use to identify him. It¡¯s not hidden in some part of his clothes, it¡¯s not in his mouth, and it¡¯s not in¡­ the more hidden parts of his body. If I had to wager a guess, the jammer is likely somewhere in his brain-implant, made to be impossible to remove." "Well that sucks for us," Jared surmised with a pop of his lips. "No way to remove the spots to get a better look?" "Not without removing the jammer," Cassandra answered. Troy, the man that knew exactly where the jammer was, was happy they weren''t going to try it. "We might have to put pressure on interrogations instead. Even that will have to take a day or two. The bastard won¡¯t wake up until then." "Don''t be so sure about that," Jared quibbled. There was some rustling of sheets. "It seems that the dose was barely enough to keep him under during the surgery." Wait, they had already done it? Checking out movement in his legs, Troy was surprised at the fact that there wasn''t instant pain surging through his body. There was still a dull ache, but it wasn''t even close to the level it was before. He gave out a small chuckle at that. What they had been looking for was right in front of them. Why had they averted the attention of the authorities when they were the ones able to fix bullet holes in a matter of hours? Or minutes. Troy wasn''t too sure about the passage of time. The only thing the man was sure of was the cursing to his side and the rapid rate of footsteps coming closer to him. Chapter 390: Wheelchair
The treatment of prisoners wasn''t always the kindest. Troy had known that since he was a young lad, knowing what could be done to those disliked by society. The looks of distaste, the frowns of having to be close to the poor, the misunderstandings that made the common people think of them as outright lazy, and everything else that could be thought of had made Troy the person he was today, understanding that misguided information on the subject had created so many problems. Even the term of prisoners was hard to define. Most thought of it as those being in prison, those who were without the freedom to move around the world. Troy had broadened that term in his own head a small bit more, thinking that the true prisoners as those who didn''t even need a cage to keep them locked up. The lack of freedom to move was not one that required a physical cage after all, even if that cage helped tremendously in other people being aware of it being there. Those who were poorer, those who couldn''t afford to take a step out of the city, and the one who could barely afford to breathe too deeply due to the extra expended calories made true imprisonment be seen. Most had to sit in their chairs all day so that they wouldn''t starve, not being able to actually die for it either way. Instead of getting down two meters in the ground, the government would come along during the last seconds and force a tube down their throat for a few weeks, force-feeding them disgusting gruel that would have made anybody that had any sense of taste vomit. Not that those fed it could taste anyhow, most not having tongues, the things having been cut out so they wouldn''t have to taste at all. Repeated trauma made the people aware of absurd solutions, after all, and nobody wanted to wait for suffering to come periodically. Going away from the mental imprisonment that was the lower class, however, Troy still had more than a few thoughts about the physical cages that could hold people in, and how the people inside were treated. He hadn''t been inside actual prisons before, making him unable to truly say he had seen it all for himself. However, he did live beside many who had, he had talked with many that blabbered on about it, and he had seen the videos of how the officers saw the inmates. There was more than a couple of good reasons filming inside government locations had been restricted heavily. One of those was, of course, to stop sensitive information from leaking. There was no need for outside spies to look inside and broadcast all the technological secrets out into the world. And¡­ that was perfectly valid to have when restricting the recording abilities of everybody in those locations. Troy had certainly seen it as such, knowing just how much there was to hide when ti came to technology. But he also knew just how much there was to hide on the other end of the spectrum. Instead of thinking about the grander projects, the large piece of technology meant to save the world, the man instead thought of the individual treatment of the people inside. Instead of thinking about the researches, scientists, and administrators meant to keep the country advanced, Troy thought of the guards, the officers, and the criminal supervisors meant to keep the country safe. What really occurred inside those massive cement walls? There were only so many of those large prisons in the world, with all the talk about removing them entirely. It was expensive to house the prisoners, after all, and making them restrained to a house out in the wild was much better. However, some were still thrown in a cell, and it was those who likely had it hard. What were they seen as? What did the rich and wealthy think of the one stealing a piece of bread? The rich would likely think of them like an idiot, wondering why they hadn''t just bought one instead of trying to get it for free. The bread was cheap, after all, massively manufactured to make them cost under a dollar for each piece. But the rich likewise couldn''t understand what it was like to live with negative wealth, each dollar earned only lessening a debt that couldn''t help but double each month. That bread was enough to keep oneself without gruel for a week. Not that the rich or the officers would ever truly understand, close to all of them coming from wealthy points of life. That was an intentional decision by the government, even if that fact wasn''t discussed too eagerly these days. The government didn''t want sympathy to rain down upon the criminals, lest the officers would simply see the system for what it was, an algorithm meant to punish those without any other choice in life. So¡­ they looked down on the thieves, the criminals, those who stole, and those who huddled in corners hoping for their bread to not mould too quickly. Some of the offices were kind, only seeing them as somebody who had gone down the wrong way in life. There would be some minor sympathy, yet they would still end up thinking that the lack of choice was entirely the person¡¯s fault. Those who lied on the more average, extreme end thought of the criminals as idiots, those rampant on the desire for crime, never needing anything other than a hit to the head since that would likely do more good than bad. And if one hit to the head did more good than bad, what would ten do? With a thousand, could a drug addict become a well-standing account manager? Well¡­ the answer was a pretty obvious no, but that certainly didn''t stop some jailors to see if ten thousand did the trick. Or maybe a million through the process of several years. It was all one long beating, the officers needing something to do when punished with working around the clock, looking over worthless people. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Troy was never happy when thinking about the recordings that had come out. He had seen what those beating were like, how some people lacked teeth needed to chew, how their noses had been allowed to heal right, how their eyes were without good vision. Bones broken, again and again, forced to align the wrong way and making a man permanently crippled. The process of such had been shown again and again with different people, different officers, and different locations. It was quite the wide-received event, as so many people had done it that it was hard to point out who truly started it. That was why the recording became illegal. If they were done by anybody who wasn''t involved in the beatings, they had the chance of being shown off to the public. If the public were shown how the prisoners were treated¡­ well, there was a chance of some sympathy for them. What would the other countries think, when the people actually saw the poor as animals? The hypocrisy of it all! The government had been quick on the trigger with that ban when the leaks finally began to get some minor attention. Not that they ever got into the mainstream, as the government had sent out more than enough threats to the news agencies to make them shut up. Even the few minor channels that had run the story had suddenly found themselves shut off the network, never being heard from again. People never talked about it, never mentioned it. There was no need to talk about something that had never happened after all. People were broken, made into toys for the bored working class, and constantly looked down upon. It was a hard tale to tell and hard to believe as well. Yet Troy had met many, had seen how people ended up walking after two years in a cell. There was next to no violence between inmates anymore, any who dared look another in the eyes beaten to the brink of death by trigger-happy sadists. It was a terrible thing, made to make terrible people happy. Troy wasn''t a part of it directly, yet he knew so many that was that it was basically the same thing. The weak were made weaker as entertainment, and they were derided for never standing up for themselves. They couldn''t stand up for themselves! Any attempt to do so would only give them a few months in a cell, before being sent out a cripple. Prisons were but a place to make sure nobody looked down on the government, lest they would meet the fate of the weak. It was a threat to any that actually had to listen. Those who could afford to live with food in their hands were blind to the messages put out, yet Troy had heard the wails more than enough to understand the true meanings. He knew what he needed to fear. The pressure put on his legs was more than a simple indicator of where he was. When Cassandra, the officer who had shot him, to begin with, did it to make sure he was awake, the young man knew who he was dealing with. Adam had put them off as the better people in the system, yet the young man was having a hard time believing that. The pain that was so carelessly put on him was sadistic. He knew the woman enjoyed doing it, likely trying hard to keep a smile off her face. Oh, how easy it was to picture. It was likewise easy to see him doing the same them in retaliation, the time in pain not stopping him from thinking such things. Not that he had any chance of doing such a thing. His arms, legs and body were weak. Troy was weaker than ever before, not able to do much but mumble incoherently. Even the man himself wasn''t aware if he was actually speaking or not, his ears not able to pick up any words. He could hear what others said, but his own words were much too complicated. "Are you sure he¡¯s actually conscious?" Jared asked for the third time. With the help of having glazed over eyes, Troy was actually able to see the man now. Jared sat in a bed not that much away from him, a sheet over his body and a few wires strapped into his arm. The man did look somewhat healthy, but Troy could see the slight shivers in the shoulders. Weakness was there, even if it was well-hidden. It made his mumbling grow by a bit at that. "Those eyes aren''t even moving. They¡¯re just open." It wasn''t intentional! Troy would have said something to that extent if he could actually control his own facial features. Or maybe he would have made a rude hand gesture if his fingers would obey him, all fine motor skills having been utterly removed from his control. It wasn''t fun, even the act of twitching his legs close to impossible. He had been able to tense the muscles, yes, but actually moving them around was out of the possible range of motions. Even with the straps holding him down to the bed, Troy had been utterly defenceless to the power of Cassandra, that damned officer likely enjoying the power. When she had closed in on him, her eyes had been condescending, angry, and most likely utterly annoyed. Troy felt some form of happiness, knowing that he was likely the reason behind the latter two. And maybe the first if he had to go down that route again. Troy wasn''t too happy about it either. When the wheelchair was brought out, the woman had started to move his body around. It wasn''t a fun experience, the plastic linings on the sides of the bed grinding against exposed skin. One was likely meant to be carried over that small barrier, yet the woman had simple pulled him. There was a good chance that Troy bled on his legs yet again from that experience, though he wasn''t in a state where he could actually check. His mind felt fine enough, yet the body wasn''t up to the required standard. It was annoying. But being put in the wheelchair did at least allow him to look upon the sight that he had seen so much of before. The medical wing was quite the sight to see, Troy and Charlie having been around it only briefly. Even then, he hadn''t been able to admire the pure amount of technology that littered the walls from head to toe or whatever it was called. Even if the young man had next to no clue surrounding what most of the technology did, he could still admire it. And he could likewise admire the automation that sat beside Jared. The construct wasn''t moving, wasn''t blinking, and wasn''t even making fake breathing motions. Even when Troy knew that the thing would start moving by the time that midnight was upon them, he still felt a bit bad about it. "He is very much awake," Cassandra said from behind Troy. The man had been positioned into the wheelchair, a small strap on his chest to stop him from falling forwards. "The twitching of the middle finger is telling me as much. The criminal might even be trying to send us a message." Oh, gee. Troy could only wonder what he was trying to say. Jared the officer laughed at that as the younger criminal was slowly wheeled out of the medical wing and into the hallway. Chapter 391: Voice
Being wheeled down the hallways was quite the experience for Troy, the young man never having had the time needed to really see all there was. Everything was a bit brighter than the last time he had been through, the eyes more sensitive to all the input. It might have been due to his time spent asleep or it might have been due to the drugs still hitting him hard. There was no way to truly be sure, and it wasn''t like it really mattered. His head was starting to become something that could be moved. It wasn''t to the point where he could look anywhere he wanted or anything, the state of his body is closer to smaller twitches just being accepted. If he truly set his mind to it, the man was reasonably sure he could press his head forward enough to make it susceptible to gravity. Not that he had any real desire to do so, that action resulting in nothing but obscuring the sight of his surroundings. There was nothing fun about it. It wasn''t like Cassandra the officer would do anything. The woman was as silent as stone, the only clue that she was still there being the fact that Troy was still being pushed down the hallway at a regular speed. He couldn''t even hear the woman breathe, though that might have been his ears being clogged more than anything. Troy still wanted to know why his hearing was so bad. Had the weeks upon weeks made his ears susceptible to clogging or something? A question for another time, he supposed. It wasn''t like he would even hint of an earpiece being important while close to the officers. He refused to even give his name, making any real equipment he had removed from his body more than just a secret. A sharp left turn left the man a little disoriented, his vision going darker for a moment. He even felt a bit queasy from the sudden movement. Which was weird, since there had been no such indicators of that being possible mere minutes ago. Was it another effect of the drug or did the man need to worry about choking on his own vomit? While Troy would have loved to put that question over to another time, he knew that doing so would make it possible for him not to have the chance of having another time. Even with his muddled mind, Troy had still been able to somewhat keep track of where they were moving. Three lefts, to rights, and a long stretch down a hallway that led to a series of smaller rooms¡­ it was more commonly known as the more serious holding cells. While the windows that allowed one to see into the cells were turned off, Troy knew that the officers were able to see everything and anything that went on in there. No privacy was allowed at all. Not that the mind was that surprised by it but whatever. Going down the whole stretch, the two finally stopped at the last door. Beside the door, the window was actually opened up. It was a one-way window, most important, which allowed Troy to see that the cell was actually already used by somebody. An elderly man strapped to a chain. There were two beds inside, one on each side of the room. The chain wouldn''t allow one to get more than halfway through the room, making it impossible for two people strapped to each side to interact. Troy had a bad feeling about this, as he was rolled into the cell. The old man barely glanced up at them, though Troy didn''t doubt that he would lounge the moment the chance ot overwhelm the officer came. Or¡­ maybe lounging was out of the realm of possibility Troy wasn''t sure exactly what he felt when he was rolled into the cell. Maybe some form of fear, having to be close to an actual criminal. Maybe there was some shame in having that fear, the young man knowing that he had been previously angry at others for having the exact same idea. Or maybe he was ashamed of fearing the man regardless of what he wanted others to think. Hypocrisy was something he never wanted to be blamed for, after all, and such was something that he was getting closer and closer to. The officer Troy knew as Cassandra walked to the front of the wheelchair, taking off the strap that stopped the young man from falling forward. His hands had at some point been handcuffed, though Troy wasn''t sure exactly when that had happened. It wasn''t as if he could use his arms regardless, making the observation almost without any real consequences. With a larger shove, the young man was lifted from the wheelchair and smacked down on the small bed. It was more a cot than anything with barely enough softness to stop back injury. Troy could certainly feel something hurt when his head hit the mattress, though he wasn''t sure if it was serious or not. The woman certainly didn''t treat it as such, barely giving him a single glance before starting to leave. "The handcuffs will unlock in ten minutes. Lie still until then or you will only hurt yourself. This is counted as your official warning, and any attempts at disobeying will be seen as your own personal act of stupidity. This will further equal that we will not pay a dime in medical bills if you hurt yourself while trying to escape," the officer sounded out, clearly having been instructed to read from some form of a script. It wasn''t said word for word, clearly enough, but the woman held it together for the longest of time regardless. Troy felt the need to make some comment about how needed to get hurt but felt like his tongue had swollen up without his notice. There was no chance of him talking, no chance of him opening up his mouth, and no chance of even removing his tongue from the pressed up position it had gotten itself into. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. After the door to the outside was closed off, with a loud locking mechanism heard, the man tried to figure out how his situation was looking like. He was lying almost face down, stomach towards the mattress, with his hands in handcuffs just beside his stomach. It was a rather uncomfortable position, with some part of his left arm already getting sleepy from the position. Yet there was next to nothing that could truly be done about it, no part of his body actually wanting to move. But¡­ even if his body didn''t want to move, the other person in the cell was not one who was among such restrictions. Since his eyes were much still open, Troy was very able to see the other criminal in the cell slowly get up from his own cot, strut over to the halfway point, and stare curiously at Troy¡¯s non-moving body. Due to the mild scarring on the man¡¯s legs, arms, face, and just the whole body in general, the youngest in the room was having a hard time holding himself together. He had seen some with half their jaws cut off in a freak robbery, yet he had never actually been that scared of the sight. Seeing somebody possibly unhinged close to his body, his body that couldn''t currently move in defence of anything was not something that Troy could enjoy. The young man was one who relished the feeling of decisions, able to make his own choice. That meant that he did not enjoy being in a position where he was defenceless no matter what he did. "You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost," the other man in the room commented after a good minute. He smiled at Troy, a few missing teeth being shown off instantly. That was likely worse than the scars, in the young man¡¯s opinion. Not that much time was spent on that detail, Troy focusing so much more on the voice. "I could take that as being due to your¡­ injuries, or maybe you¡¯re just a tad too unhappy with how I look." The man hit the nail right on the spot. He had clearly heard it a few times before, the grin coming just after Troy widened his eyes a small bit telling a tale worth more than the printing press could survive. Instead of standing around like a creep, the man just went back to his cot, lying down on the thing, closing his eyes, and likely starting to take a nap to pass the time. Troy could only really think about how old the man was. It wasn''t instantly clear in the appearance, the skin only having a couple of wrinkles, yet the voice made it so much more obvious. The roughness of it made it clear that the man had lived several decades more than Troy had. It wasn''t the roughness that could be gained through smoke over time or from decades of nerve damage. No¡­ this was the roughness gained by speaking without pause for one¡¯s own life. Though that did leave Troy wondering just how one had spoken so many words yet had ended up alone in a cell in the middle of nowhere. The man was forced to think about that for the next long while. A click could be heard at the ten-minute mark, the restraints around his arms being released. They fell onto the ground, creating a whole world of noise for the briefest of seconds. The other man in the room didn''t seem to hear, heavy breathing filling the room without pause. Troy¡­ didn''t do anything personally, the young man¡¯s body still unresponsive. Or that wasn''t the entire truth. After five minutes, he could move his fingers with relative success. Sometimes it misunderstood how to move, going to the sides when he wanted it to go up, going up when he wanted it to go down, and going down when he wanted it to go to the side. It was a curious phenomenon, the man only able to think that it had something to do with the medicine. A part of his brain was clearly still not operating right still. But time did pass quickly, and the effects grew to be less and less. By seven minutes, the man could feel his toes, even giving them some form of a wriggle. Troy wasn''t actually sure if they were all wriggling or not, only the shifts from the other toes giving any indication of their movements, and that was hardly a reliable method of observation. But, it wasn''t like his shoes had been removed, and there was no chance of him getting them off, so that was how things would be no matter what. Ten minutes was the time where he could move his feet. That¡¯s where the fight started. It was a very twitch-based movement system, the fluid movement being out of the range for the man. It was either one way entirely or the other way entirely. He could slightly flex his muscles. Doing it in such a way was slightly painful, and more than time-consuming, but it did at least get easier with time. If that was due to the man gaining practice or if he was just good at waiting out the effects were to be seen at a later time. He just knew that after an extra five minutes, he was able to get the shoes off. By that time, he could even move his head downwards to see. It was quite the sight, his white socks have turned more than a little red over time. Some part of him had been bleeding, though he was unsure of what that was. Not like that part was too important to him, Troy focusing much more on another fact entirely. The shoes. They weren''t his. And neither was his clothes, now that he thought about it. The grey jacket and trousers he wore was nothing close to his previous gear. How¡­ who had changed his clothes while he wasn''t looking? And why did it have to be so itchy? The moment the man knew of the difference from the previous observation, the man was instantly able to feel the extreme itchiness that the clothes brought with them. It was more annoying than ever, and his arms and hands were more than up for the job of scratching his body. It was also a very nice way to know that enough effort made it possible for him to move his arms and legs, the sudden desire of it being a great catalyst for breaking the previous barriers. There was something so soothing about itching, to the point where Troy barely noticed that he had scratched a hole into his skin. Or, well, he certainly noticed when his new clothing gained a smaller splatter of blood on it. There wasn''t anything he could do but stop at that point, even if the itchiness persisted no matter what. At least the pain helped distract him. How long a time had passed at that point? That was a good question. Not one that the man could answer at any level, but a good question nonetheless. Twenty minutes was a good estimate. That¡¯s how it felt, at the very least, Troy¡¯s mind rattled to the point of insanity. The man felt desperate for action, suddenly having even more of an understanding of inmates. Being made to do nothing in a blank cell was a good definition of successful torture. Being unable to look around or anything to that degree only made it more effective. So¡­ with a determining shove, Troy got himself up from his lying position. He didn''t stand up exactly, sitting up being more than he could anyway. It required the use of his arms to remain sitting if that made it more understandable. Not that such a thing would have made the arm desire the new sensation any less, desperate for something to do. "I think I can talk now," Troy tested out, fully prepared for it to sound terrible. To his surprise, it turned out that the skill of his tongue had returned. "Indeed you can," The old man on the other side of the room stated. Getting up from his bed, he sat down in a similar position. "But are you good enough to have a conversation?" Chapter 392: Debriefing ¡°The name¡¯s Manson. Terrence Manson,¡± the man said, watching as Troy settled himself into a suitable sitting position. Even with more time under that gaze, and now with the ability to defend himself, the younger man couldn¡¯t help but feel unsettled. It had too much power. ¡°Do you have a name you would like to share?¡± ¡°Oh, uh¡­ yeah. My name is Troy. Troy¡­ I don¡¯t think I should say,¡± Troy answered with little hesitation. The older man seemed entirely relaxed yet simultaneously ready to jump at him. He had an aura around him that couldn¡¯t be shaken off. ¡°Not the most common name around here. Has there been any immigration in your family recently?¡± ¡°Not in the last few generations at least.¡± That was the good answer to make if that smile on the man seemed to tell any story. The feeling of having a knife to his throat disappeared slowly, intentions no longer clear. Was this¡­ the start of friendship or cohabitation? ¡°Well, Troy Maxwell, you are welcome to stay as long as you¡¯d like,¡± Terrence said, waving his arms around to show off his humble abode. It was still just a dirty prison cell but the sentiment was appreciated. ¡°Though¡­ I have no real control over when you leave. Nor do I know why you are here, to begin with. Mind entertaining me?¡± ¡°I could ask the same to you, but I wouldn¡¯t mind starting,¡± Troy said, leaning back onto the wall behind. He could still feel a mild ache in his back. He might¡¯ve been dragged around when he wasn¡¯t aware. ¡°My group needed medical supplies. The cops noticed and made sure we couldn¡¯t get any by locking them all up here. We retaliated by storming this place after creating some chaos outside.¡± ¡°That would get you in here, alright,¡± Terrence said with a bark of laughter at the end. ¡°You youngsters and your noble goals. I am glad to see that some of the smaller groups have gone out of sight recently. If I didn¡¯t notice you coming, nobody else should¡¯ve.¡± Oh? That was interesting. ¡°Why so?¡± Troy questioned. ¡°Are you a notable character around these parts?¡± ¡°In the local area? No,¡± the older man said, getting into the same position as Troy with his back against the wall. ¡°I have a group out there myself, bigger than yours if I have to guess. We¡¯re hanging at around eighty right now. Some of the cities west of here know of us by name but this place is new to us.¡± ¡°And it being a new area caused issues,¡± Troy surmised. Hardship had often befallen those who sat in prison cells while chained up to the wall. ¡°Indeed. Food is not as easy to come by here as it is elsewhere. The weather does not allow enough animals out here,¡± the man complained. ¡°I had to go into the city myself to get enough rations to last us another few days. We¡¯ve been welcoming a few kiddos into the ranks so we needed a feast. It is rather hard to only do that with hardtack.¡± Hardtack. Even the word was enough for Troy to shudder. He had lived on candy bars, canned food, and that dreadful, tasteless abomination of man for too long. The need to get anything else for a celebration was more than understandable. ¡°How long have you been in here, by the way?¡± Troy asked. ¡°I think you might just be the only one here so anybody else must¡¯ve gotten transferred when the war hit us.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not total war yet, son,¡± Terrence corrected. ¡°And¡­ I am not entirely sure. It might have been a week or so. They had me under for most of the time so I can¡¯t say. Keeping track of the dates isn¡¯t that important to me anymore, though I wish I¡¯d done it this time around.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Troy couldn¡¯t have helped even if he did. Being out in the wilderness with nothing but a talking AI in his ear, it was easy to just let things like that pass him by without a thought. If the ability to know the time was always there, why bother remembering it for yourself? ¡°That¡¯s not good,¡± Troy commented. ¡°Any chance that you¡¯ll be getting out soon.¡± ¡°Not a chance,¡± Terrence said with little pauses, putting in another laugh while he was at it. ¡°Those people do not take kindly to people like me. I do what I have to do to keep my people safe. They don¡¯t like us surviving by ourselves.¡± Amen to that. ¡°So no real chance of you being released legally,¡± Troy concluded. That was just great. ¡°Do you know if they¡¯ve been listening in this entire time?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not allowed to put listening devices into these kinds of cells,¡± Terrence pointed out. ¡°But¡­ When did law enforcement ever follow their own rules?¡± ¡°Good point,¡± Troy said, leaning back into his seat. He knew where he was, he knew it had been about a day since he was put into the prison, and he had a reasonable time frame of when he would have to make a run for it. ¡°Well, then let¡¯s just say we have plenty of time to talk because there is no chance they¡¯ll let me walk out of here either.¡± Terrence smiled at that, showing off surprisingly well-kept teeth. One would have expected them rotten, black, and yellow but even the highest of standards were overshot with those mighty examples of well-cared hobbies. It almost looked fake. ¡°When my people finally figure out where they¡¯ve stashed me, they¡¯ll pick me up real soon,¡± Terrence said, that smile never leaving his face. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about that? If there¡¯s one thing I¡¯ve always known about this group of mine, it¡¯s that they never leave one of their behind without first having a poke at their corpse.¡± ¡­ The laughing was in the same tone this time around but Troy couldn¡¯t help but be uncomfortable with the gallows humour. The thought about being in the kill zone already wasn¡¯t what he liked to have in his head. It was too hard to let go of such things. Looking down at his hands and the cuffs that entangled them, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how he was going to get out of those. They couldn¡¯t be taken off with pure force, that was easy to realize with how sharp the edges were. Before they¡¯d even have a chance to break, they would¡¯ve already cut through half the bone. Instead, it was the electronic key within that needed to be taken care of. It seemed to be connected to the online service, luckily, so there was a good chance that it had already been covered previously. That reminded Troy, though. The gloves, those infinitely valuable things, were still stored somewhere inside the prison alongside his other gear. What he wouldn¡¯t give to find them quickly. He already had a good memory of where the storage areas were but he had to figure out which of them was being used. Or¡­ maybe they¡¯d seen that one coming and had just hid them in an unused area instead. It would be a quite peculiar thing to do but an understandable one at that. Hitting his head against the wall with a small thud, Troy had to wonder how¡¯d he gotten himself tangled up in this mess. It had gone so well yet everything just had to go to shit in the last moments. At the very least, there was comfort in the idea that the others were getting ready and that Adam was safe. A screech of metal grinding against each other was heard from the entrance to the cell. The large, steel door was being opened, the face of a certain officer seen behind it. Troy had to wonder what they would want already. There had barely been forty minutes since he¡¯d been thrown in there. Why so early? ¡°You,¡± Cassandra, the police officer with no good restraint, said, her finger pointed right at Troy¡¯s face. ¡°Face against the wall. Terrence, you do the same.¡± The officer began to walk in immediately, one of the automations following right in after her. Troy was sure it had a name but couldn¡¯t seem to remember it as he walked to stand in front of the wall. A few hard tugs were felt from behind him as the handcuffs were refitted to be on his back. It was a rather quick process that made the man be quite unbalanced when the woman started to very strongly pull him towards the exit of the prison cell. The helping hands of the automation made sure his face didn¡¯t hit the ground yet the human police officer showed no signs of slowing down her steps. ¡°Try to run and I will shoot you,¡± she began. ¡°Try to stop and I will taser you. Try to look too much around and I will sedate you.¡± ¡°So me talking is fine, right?¡± Troy said, happy to be the asshole he always strived to be. ¡°I can¡¯t seem to hear any rules about that.¡± ¡°Talking gets you a kick from behind if I remember right,¡± the automation behind Troy helpfully supplied. ¡°But we might¡¯ve cut down on that one recently. Too many HR complaints and all.¡± ¡°Totally understandable,¡± Troy replied with a sageful nod. ¡°However, you guys seem to have caught the wrong person here. Would you be so helpful as to-¡± ¡°Save it for the interrogation room,¡± Cassandra snapped. ¡°And shut up.¡± ¡°Shutting up now,¡± Troy said, smiling brightly. He tried to do the same facial contortions as the ones Terrence had shown off inside the cell. It was an average-quality impression if anybody had dared to actually look. None did, the woman in front only caring about pulling him harshly on the shoulder and the one behind only being able to look at the back of his head. Troy lamented how unfortunate he truly was as he was pulled to the side and into a darker room. After being sat down with additional cuffs pretty much everywhere, he had to wonder if he was about to be electrocuted. So much steel was pressing against his skin, after all. And that needle to his left side was not helping things seem calm. Chapter 393: Doubts Cassandra wondered about the younger man sitting opposite her. He looked young and rugged, his time in the wild putting a toll on his body. Perhaps they could¡¯ve been the same age and she wouldn¡¯t know it. There was too large a difference in their lives. Even now, she couldn¡¯t see his face. There were some lessening effects from the jammers, wherever they were, but they could still stop the auto-detection. No matter how much they pressed the systems, it couldn¡¯t give a conclusive answer. The parameters were always changing, making it impossible to know what was real and what was fake. The only real way to make it would be to find a civilian with no ocular implants and have them draw it out near-perfectly. Yet¡­ such a person with that kind of skill was near-impossible to find in the current age. Artists weren¡¯t in popular demand anymore. ¡°State your name, age, and place of birth,¡± Cassandra said mechanically as she looked down on her notes. Scribbling a bit of nonsense on top, she awaited the results from the initial order. Interrogations were meant to be one-sided yet she felt that it would likely be quite the opposite soon enough. The person in front of her wasn¡¯t going to let it out too easily. ¡°Bruno Mars, thirty-nine, and the dark side of the moon,¡± the man answered. There was no real surprise there, though the woman had to ponder the strange naming schemes of the man. Were the astrological topics more interesting for them? It was something to note down as a possible background at least. ¡°We already know your first name is Troy,¡± Cassandra commented as she wrote down a few more nonsense words. ¡°The analysis told us as much.¡± ¡°I think you want to call it ¡®listening in,¡¯¡± Troy corrected. Even with the blurring filter, there was no hiding the coy smile. Not that it was all-natural. The man was trying to agitate. It wasn¡¯t working, sadly. ¡°I will be calling it however I please,¡± Cassandra answered with little emotion. Looking up at the prisoner again, she let them stew in silence for a moment. They weren¡¯t sitting still, leaning more to the right than a regular person would. It took no real thinking to figure out it was due to a certain needle close to their throat. Cassandra was happy the tool was working as intended. It was normally meant as an emergency injection of sedatives for more restrained prisoners but it could be activated on standby. Not that the prisoner could even hope to get close to it. The moment the man would sway closer, it would automatically retract. They were cops, after all. Some decency in safety was expected. ¡°You said that you were getting medical supplies,¡± Cassandra commented, removing all pretence of not listening in during their conversation in the cell. It wasn¡¯t something all cells had, that one just being special. It was meant for the more¡­ violent types. Making sure that nothing fishy was going on in there through the power of monitoring was for the best. ¡°Do elaborate on that.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any point to that,¡± Troy answered calmly. ¡°I was getting medical supplies. Some of them could even be used, believe it or not. Most were taken away from us before we could get our hands on them, however. Thank you very much for that.¡± ¡°If the city is evacuated, there are no laws which permit you to steal from unattended buildings. The police force has to make sure that this does not happen,¡± Cassandra replied with no real surprise in her voice. ¡°If that requires us to transport larger amounts of medical supplies over to a secure area, it will not impede anything in the process.¡± ¡°It certainly stopped us from getting our hands on it for a while,¡± the man said before leaning back, a smile appearing yet again. ¡°But, even your best attempt at stopping us failed. Isn¡¯t the police force meant to be a bit more¡­ advanced in their methods? I can¡¯t say it was as hard as advertised.¡± ¡°Yet you still failed to escape during it,¡± was the reply that came to Cassandra¡¯s tongue. ¡°If you thought it so easy, why was the last step so hard for you?¡± ¡°...Fair enough. That one¡¯s on me,¡± Troy accepted. It looked like he had wanted to put his hands up in surrender but the cuffs stopped the movement before it even began. ¡°Is there any chance you could untighten these? I am losing touch with my fingers at this point.¡± ¡°No,¡± Cassandra rejected bluntly. The man¡¯s vitals were still in the green and plenty of blood was circulating. It would take much longer before there were any issues to think about. ¡°How large is your group?¡± ¡°I think the current count is eighty-seven,¡± the man answered. ¡°Be serious.¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°I doubt it,¡± Cassandra said, noting down possible clues heard before. ¡°You¡¯ve previously shown signs of it being quite small, not possibly have more than five people in total. Stolen equipment suggests as such. Which reminds me of something. What exactly were you trying to achieve by stealing so much diving equipment? I don¡¯t believe many would buy them on the black market at the moment.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°Everything has worth to the right person,¡± the man answered with the smallest of shrugs. ¡°It all depends on the situation they¡¯re in.¡± ¡­ Cassandra noted that one down. They already had a deal somewhere close by. Nothing more than fifty kilometres. It was a possible destination point later on. ¡°Why did you arrive in this city?¡± Cassandra questioned. ¡°It¡¯s merely a means to an end. We needed to pass through and saw the chance to gather more supplies for the journey,¡± Troy answered. The indifference in answering the question led Cassandra to think it might¡¯ve been true. But¡­ ¡°How severely wounded is the person in your group?¡± Ah, the twitch of muscle at the question was all Cassandra wanted to see. It was no real surprise that such was the case. But she still needed to wonder if the person could be saved. They¡¯d survived long enough for the man to scavenge around in shops but how much more time could be possible¡­ ¡°They are doing pretty well if I have to guess. Nothing serious at least,¡± Troy answered noncommittally. ¡°You needed extremely expensive self-healing equipment. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s something a civilian could ever hope to mend without extreme damage and handicaps in the future,¡± Cassandra reminded him. ¡°It would be best if this person had been flown to a hospital immediately. Yet you didn¡¯t think that was an option because¡­?¡± ¡°Do I need to explain that one to you?¡± ¡°Not really. I just thought it polite to ask,¡± Cassandra said with an actual shrug of her own. Reaching out with her mind, she connected to Jules with little hardship. ¡®Has Grunwald given us any updates on the situation yet?¡¯ she questioned, hoping for new information of some kind. When the man had been found, a message had been sent out in hopes of somebody to come and identify them with their own eyes. Yet it seemed getting ahold of the contact was quite hard. ¡®He got word a few minutes ago but didn¡¯t want to disturb you,¡¯ Jules responded. It was a fair thing to do. The interrogation was meant to be silent zones after all. ¡®We¡¯ve gotten in contact with somebody called Dr Fidelis. He¡¯s flying over here as we speak. Should be in the city in a few hours or so.¡¯ Dr Fidelis¡­ What a weird name. It sounded Latin but Cassandra hadn¡¯t bothered to learn enough to know what it meant. A form of emotion maybe? She didn¡¯t know or care. What she cared about was that a reaction needed to be gained. ¡°So¡­ Troy,¡± Cassandra said, putting on a small smile of her own. The hours wasted in front of a mirror was finally put to the test at that moment as the man opposite her looked ready to keel over and die. ¡°Do you recognize anybody by the name of Fidelis?¡± The pull forward the man-made at the mention of that name was enough that the needle to the left pulled itself away to make sure no injury occurred. Yet that didn¡¯t stop the man from suddenly moving around like a mad-mad, trying to get himself out of the restraints. It almost seemed like it would work until Cassandra made sure to tighten them all somewhat. The gasp for air was enough to make the man pause in his fighting. ¡°I take it that name rings a bell of some kind,¡± Cassandra noted down. Sending out a message to her superior, she let him know that they might¡¯ve finally found their target. Her promotion was coming closer to reality. ¡°And not a good kind.¡± ¡°Good? There is nothing good about that man,¡± Troy said with clear spite in his voice. Some hatred was obvious, at least. Cassandra couldn¡¯t help but wonder why. ¡°He¡¯s the sole reason we even need that medical equipment, to begin with.¡± ¡­ What? ¡°Mind explaining that one?¡± Cassandra requested, pulling up a new page on her notes so she could get it in writing. Everything was already being recorded but she felt it would be better to get it on something non-digital. ¡°I saw with my own eyes a crazed man ready to throw a woman to her death for the sole reason of not wanting to engage in torture of what was effectively a confused child,¡± Troy began in what was likely to be a rant of epic proportions. Cassandra barely had time to write it all down. ¡°She would¡¯ve died as well if we didn¡¯t stop that bastard, though his efforts still made it possible for her to be left wounded. Her intestines are shutting down slowly but surely because of him.¡± The torture of children, the slow, painful death of organ failure, and what seemed to be a lack of proper oversight. Cassandra had a hard time believing it to be real but at least the man in front of her believed that to be so. No real signs of delusions had been seen before that point, ignoring the bouts of arrogance. Just what was she hearing? ¡°This child you mentioned,¡± Cassandra commented hesitantly. ¡°How old was it?¡± ¡°When I first met it?¡± Troy asked back. With a nod given he continued. ¡°About a day or two old. We escaped when it had reached about a week or so.¡± That wasn¡¯t a child but a mere babe. Just¡­ What was happening? According to Grunwald, this was meant to be a case of extremists on the run, yet this was something else entirely. But what? ¡°What was happening to this child?¡± ¡°They were trying to make it into a weapon of some sort. They even succeeded though it required more than a few rounds of torture. I am not sure how many there were. I just know it was too much.¡± A weapon. The government was looking for somebody who¡¯d run off with a weapon, one that they were manufacturing. So close to the border of the country, Cassandra could only guess that they were trying to cross it. The idea about them wanting to sell off equipment was slowly losing ground. Just what was happening? ¡°The one was injured. Do you believe they will survive with the medical supplies you stole?¡± Cassandra said. ¡°While you will still go to prison no matter what, I can offer a very lucrative deal for your unanimous surrender.¡± ¡°She will survive and we will never surrender,¡± Troy answered with zero hesitation. The determination in the man¡¯s eyes made Cassandra wonder if he was crazy. ¡°We have gone too far to let Adam reach their hands again.¡± Fueled with emotion, the man was letting too much go. Yet¡­ Adam? A boy, then. A boy meant to become a weapon of some sort. Bio-engineering? Cassandra wouldn¡¯t put it past the government to have figured out such secrets already. While the field was new, the potential had already been discovered a while back. She was an example of what could be done with just a bit of tuning. But what could¡¯ve been done to make a mere child so lucrative? What had been- ¡®We have orders to make sure the man is contained. Cassandra, please finish off your interrogation and escort the prisoner back to his cell. His continued stay is vital,¡¯ Grunwald sent in himself. ¡°... We¡¯re done here,¡± Cassandra said, getting up from her seat. With a small command, she made Jules start the process of getting off the restraints so the man could be put back into the holding room. ¡°No, we¡¯re not. You have to help me. If they find us, we¡¯ll all be killed. There will be no trial. They¡¯ll just silence us in the quickest way they can,¡± Troy protested, trying to wriggle his way out of Jules¡¯ grasp. It had no effect, though Cassandra and the automation locked eyes for a moment. They both had ideas of what it all meant and neither wanted to speak them out loud. Chapter 394: Doctor Cassandra didn¡¯t waste too much time escorting the prisoner back to this cell. Jules had it covered for the entire duration, taking a hold of him this time around to spare her the effort. The man didn¡¯t stop his ranting though, even when they got closer and closer to the cell. The struggle to get out of his restraints was ceaseless. Just what was he expecting from the doctor? ¡°Listen, they are gonna kill all of us. This is way above the security level of anything you have ever touched before. This isn¡¯t something you had to sign a paper for to be excused. This is something where you have to be contained for the rest of your life if you want to have the slightest chance of living until next week!¡± Troy shouted, never stopping for breath. Jules sent in an info packet about how much cardio the man must have done to have such good lungs, but Cassandra just ignored it. ¡°They don¡¯t trust you enough to live. The moment we¡¯re gone from this place, they¡¯ll just shoot the place up. You will be erased from history just to make sure nobody has a chance at ever learning about what¡¯s truly going on.¡± It was neverending right until they got him locked onto the wall in the cell. It took more effort than Cassandra realized to not answer back. Jules closed the door for her as she watched Manson to make sure he didn¡¯t try and make a move. Strangely, he was more interested in Troy. She knew that couldn¡¯t mean well. ¡°Is it safe to leave those two alone in the cell?¡± Jules questioned as they walked back towards the break room. The other officers in the station had situated themselves thereafter getting everything else back under control. ¡°We both saw those looks.¡± ¡°And we both know you¡¯re monitoring their damn breathing habits,¡± Cassandra retorted. Even without glancing towards the cameras inside the place, she¡¯d know perfectly well that Jules was studying him more than casually. The orders to make sure nothing bad happened was more than enough for the automation to be on high alert, whatever that meant in robotic terms. ¡°Still. Don¡¯t you think it would be best to put one of them into confined solitary? The risks are still much higher than they should be,¡± Jules continued. Risks¡­ There sure seemed to be a lot of risks in everything nowadays. Everything was a risk, everything had the consequence of them all dying, and there wasn¡¯t a single right choice to make anymore. There was only the choice made by those above her, that being to wait for the so-called Doctor Fidelis to arrive by helicopter. Or maybe a plane. She wasn¡¯t sure how they would get here, only knowing he was expected in about three hours from now. Who was this Fidelis even? He had made a large enough impact that it could make another man feel crazed in his attempts to escape. The vital signs from the man had certainly jumped the moment the name had been mentioned, hinting at extreme trauma in the past. Cassandra would have requested physiatry for the man if not for the impending extraction. Back to the topic of figuring out identities, Cassandra did her best in searching up the name. Fidelis was indeed Latin but she had no real desire to look more into it, instead of searching up the government dossier of public servants. There were a few with the name, though none of them had anything close to a doctor¡¯s degree. Even weirder, though, was that she had to submit reasoning for searching up the name, to begin with. It was as if the system was discouraging it. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡®Send in a request for Dr Fidelis¡¯ profile,¡¯ Cassandra instructed Jules. She didn¡¯t say it out loud, knowing that Grunwald would hear through the walls. ¡®And then send the information from it over to me.¡¯ ¡®You realize that¡¯s highly illegal and that I¡¯d need to send in a request to share the information as well, right?¡¯ Jules questioned. ¡®Could you do it without sending in that last request?¡¯ Cassandra asked right back, ignoring the automation¡¯s question. ¡®Technically, yes.¡¯ ¡®Then do it.¡¯ ¡®...Sure. Why not break more than a few laws just because you asked,¡¯ Jules said, walking a bit slower as it now had three tasks to focus on at the same time. Filling out request forms was surprisingly hard when one had to go up several levels of security. It gave Cassandra enough time to wonder just how likely it was that the man had been speaking the truth. A doctor known from before was being sent over to confirm the identity of the prisoner so they could make sure that they were the actual culprits of a previous incident, that incident being them rescuing a child from a life of torture. The lack of respect for life was just a chance to gain more for the government. Cassandra initially thought it pure fantasy but slowly realized what she¡¯d seen herself mere days before. An entire camp blasted to pieces, even when a child had been right in the middle of it. ¡­ She needed to know more. ¡®Are we sure that Grunwald gave us the right name?¡¯ Jules asked after a few more seconds of walking. ¡®The system didn''t have anything to give me even when I asked twice. There is not a single person above our pay-grade who has that name.¡¯ Well, that was certainly peculiar. Cassandra would¡¯ve thought the same thing if not for the reaction of a certain prisoner. ¡®Keep searching. He might just be under a variation of the name,¡¯ Cassandra ordered, though she knew it likely wasn¡¯t the case. Something weird was going on. She needed another human to talk to. Lucky for them, they had walked far enough to reach the cafeteria, voices coming from the inside easily. Jared and Grunwald were spending the time with small-talk, not seeming to mention the events experienced not even a day before. The last of the protesters had barely been taken care of and there they were sipping a bit of tea. How she loved it. Oh, and Nero was there in the corner as well. The automation seemed entranced with the empty tea bags, slowly drawing its fingers across the surface of the items. Cassandra wondered whether or not to comment on it but decided to let that part of the room stay with the automations. Jules was already on its way over to join the other walking bag of electronics anyway. ¡°Ah! I see the star of the hour is here,¡± Jared said, raising his cup of tea high into the air. The high temperature of the cup¡¯s outside made the man retract the raised liquid quickly, though, making a few silent swears as he held the burned skin. ¡°Did you get anything good out of the prisoner?¡± ¡°Nothing other than a few threats to my life and some very deluded views about the world,¡± Cassandra said as she sat down next to them. Her words were the height of recent humour, Jared certainly finding it funny. Grunwald even had a small smile on his face, though it was much more muted. ¡°Nothing to worry about then,¡± Jared assured her, smiles still being planted safely on that face of his. ¡°We didn¡¯t expect much else. We just had to be sure that he was the one robbing those other times. Your questions showed that well enough.¡± Right. They had been behind the glass, just as law mandated. They¡¯d seen it all for themselves. That would make the next step easier. ¡°Yeah, it was quite peculiar in the way he acted,¡± Cassandra agreed before looking over at Grunwald. ¡°Especially when I mentioned this Dr Fidelis you know. Is he more known than I thought?¡± The smile fell off her superior face faster than anything before. Cassandra felt worried. Chapter 395: Flee Troy looked down at the cuffs, wondering whether he could really get himself to do it. Simply pulling hard had done nothing to get him out of those steel circles, but just a bit more pressure to his thumb could elevate his chances of escape considerably. How he wished he had lost that digit already so he wouldn¡¯t need to consider breaking the bone. He knew he could do it, knew that it had a chance of working. But how much more would he need to break after to escape? He couldn¡¯t know for sure and that was what scared him. Terrence was just over in his cot enjoying himself. The man had his eyes closed, whistling a tune Troy felt old just by listening to. There was nothing good happening lately and he just couldn¡¯t get over that. As he looked down at the skin he knew would be broken soon enough, he began to press down. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stop any chance of tears falling as a certain digit was pushed beyond its limits. It resisted to start but- ¡°If you really want to get out, I could help you, you know,¡± Terrence muttered, stopping Troy from completing the action he was about to take. The young man didn¡¯t want to accept he would¡¯ve stopped anyway. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Troy questioned, using the same silent volume the other man was talking in. They were barely opening their mouths, barely breathing out air. It would be a surprise if anybody could hear from more than a meter away but both men had been lucky in their abilities for good hearing. ¡°I can get us out,¡± Terrence repeated, the smile on his face growing ever-wider. ¡°You seem like a fellow who suddenly has a passion for getting out of this comfy place. I can respect that. So, if you want me to help you, just ask and I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± There were no more words spoken, the man going back into his pretend sleep. Troy just looked at the man before looking back at the hand he was meaning to break. Or, he supposed both would need to be broken if he were to get out of those cuffs entirely. The cuffs were still chained to the wall, after all. And, even then, he would need to get through a certain door. The cuffs weren¡¯t meant to be an issue yet Adam¡¯s help was still not arriving. More than a day had passed by so it should have been activated by now. Had¡­ had it not worked? Or had it already been done while he was still asleep? Troy didn¡¯t know, had no idea how he was meant to figure it out. And that was what worried him. There was no real way to know if waiting would bring salvation or death. He just knew that every second that passed was a second closer to his demise. And if there was one thing he didn¡¯t take lying down, it was a death sentence. ¡°If you can do anything that can get us out within the next hour, I will do anything,¡± Troy pleaded. He didn¡¯t want to sound desperate but he knew that ship had already sailed the moment he came in with tears in his eyes. Terrence rose from the bed at that, stretching his arms and legs as if he had gotten the best naps in the decade. Looking over at Troy, he smiled wider than ever. With a beckoning hand, the two met in the middle, a few whispers coming forth. The more they talked, the less Troy wanted a part in it. Yet, he had no say in what followed, knowing he couldn¡¯t run lest it would all begin. Taking a deep breath, he jump-started the escape with a step away from Terrence. ------------ ¡°Dr Fidelis is a man I have only met once in person. At that time, he spoke with a wide smile and a cheerful tone. He was clearly confident in himself, his works and the attitude he had towards this country was something we should always admire,¡± Grunwald said softly, Cassandra and Jared hanging onto every word. Even the two automations in the background were keeping quiet so as not to disturb the mood. ¡°But, that one minute of us meeting is the only time I had the chance. The next time he contacted me was for other purposes. There were sometimes arrest orders which he wanted me to take care of, there were a few interrogations he didn¡¯t want to do himself, and just a few times I had to escort a prisoner to a car. Where they drove I will never know. And none of you will either.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Jared asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it law to know where we are escorting people? The treaty for Guardians states that-¡± ¡°The guidelines, laws, and deals we¡¯ve made over the years don''t count when we want to be quiet about something or someone,¡± Grunwald cut in, his tone sharper than ever. It seemed like he wanted to stop Jared from saying the wrong thing rather than actually caring about the contents themselves. ¡°These people are the ones making sure the worst doesn¡¯t come into the light. They keep it all in the dark so the population doesn¡¯t cry bloody murder. I only know this because I worked directly with one of these people. You only get to know it because you will be taking over this position of mine soon enough.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Cassandra interjected. ¡°Take over? You are decades away from retiring.¡± ¡°I am only seven years away from being forced out of duty,¡± Grunwald corrected with a sombre tone. The older man leaned back in his chair, his face showing off a truly aged life. ¡°But, I will do it freely. Time is moving forward quicker than I can manage and it will be best to not let colleagues be in danger because of my slow reactions. And with this situation handled smoother than anything else, I have recommended the doctor to use you two in the future instead of me. Expect a promotion or two in the next few weeks, by the way. You will likely get sent into the larger city soon.¡± A promotion¡­ everything Casandra had dreamed of for so long. She was getting one and maybe more just by staying in place? Just what was her life turning into? This was grand, good, and everything else at the same time. She was on her way to glory. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Yet it was at the price of following somebody she couldn¡¯t figure out anything about. She had never met this man but she likely would in mere hours. Could she look upon the doctor¡¯s face and see the same as Grunwald had done himself? Or would she see the mand who would torture children for bio-weapons and regret not doing anything? ¡°These things kept in the dark,¡± Cassandra began to ask. The starting words made Grunwald furrow his brows at her but she continued. ¡°Were they¡­ breaking ethics? Were they doing things that would start a war?¡± ¡°Through the years, I have learned that you shouldn¡¯t try and question what goes on in your country,¡± Grunwald said with clear sadness in his eyes. Cassandra had no desire to know why. ¡°Whenever secrets come out, you can never truly get yourself to believe it¡¯s true. That people in the background have done it all, that they helped make it happen without ever blowing the whistle. But, maybe that¡¯s just what working for this place means. We follow the orders given to us and try not to think why or who we are helping. The end goal is to make sure the country survives and that the citizens get to live another day. Taking comfort in that is the best we can do.¡± ¡­ Cassandra wasn¡¯t happy with that answer. The man was giving her a job he didn¡¯t want to take, that he was stepping into retirement for soon enough, and they were expected to take it at face value. The most disconcerting thing of all was that Jared hadn¡¯t questioned it yet, the man just sitting and sipping his tea as if the world hadn¡¯t just stopped spinning for an entire minute. Had he been told before or was his reaction to play as dumb as Grunwald. The things heard. They weren¡¯t words of madness. They knew that something wrong was going on. They knew nothing of the sort should¡¯ve been allowed. And they did nothing? What was the point of power if it wasn¡¯t used to stop that which wasn¡¯t good for all? The deaths of innocent people to gain the upper hand was not the way life were intended and Cassandra couldn¡¯t understand why anybody would ever let that happen. Was the act of looking away simply so powerful? ¡®We have a situation with the prisoner,¡¯ Jules sent in over the general broadcast. ¡®A fight seems to be ongoing between the two cellmates. A hit to the face has left one bleeding. Further injury is possible.¡¯ ¡°Cass, break them up. Jared, find supplies we can use to mend any possible injuries. I¡¯ll go get a new cell ready,¡± Grunwald ordered, all three being out of the room within ten seconds. Jules and Nero joined up with their respective partners as each began their duties as public servants. But Cassandra¡­ She had other plans. ¡®We skipped the hallway to the jail right there, you know,¡¯ Jules commented as they ran in the wrong direction. ¡®Shouldn¡¯t we turn back?¡¯ ¡®We have to get something first,¡¯ Cassandra corrected, trying to remember the right room. There were too many of them, cursing herself for picking a too good location. Where were proper naming conventions when she needed them? And then, ending off in a screeching halt, she found the right door. Pushing it open with pure force alone, breaking the lock in the process, she found the gear they had gotten from a certain somebody. Things were in play. She hoped to god that she was making the right choice. ------------ The fist to the chin hadn¡¯t done Troy good, the force enough to make him fall to the floor in pain. He was used to being hit but that old man had a way with his fists. They felt like steel wires, slicing open a piece of skin easily. It hurt more than expected, and the blood dripping onto the floor was a good indicator of why he didn¡¯t like plans like these. ¡°I think we should-¡± Troy tried to say but a kick to his stomach made any chance of talking impossible, air, spittle, and anything else in his body at that moment coming out of his mouth. It seemed he had been fed lunch recently. Who knew? ¡°Shut up!¡± Terrence shouted. The man had quite the lungs, the voice echoing through the room. He gave another kick to Troy¡¯s stomach, though this one was considerably lighter even though it looked more powerful. A small moan came out anyway, the pain still being a pain in the end. Angry pacing began, the man looking angrier than ever. His face was red, a vein looking ready to pop on his forehead. He looked like the maddest of tyrants. The muscles on his arms are ready to be used for the crushing of skulls. Troy had to wonder just how much he had practised that role as he got ready for another swing against his body. It never hit, however, the cell door opened and in stepped a certain officer. Troy was on the officer''s side in only a second, Terrence making sure of that by throwing him towards the officer. Yes, that was the plan. Get hit and then hit the officer before they could close the door, finding the key to their cuffs in the process. They were wireless, yes, but even the most extreme still needed backups. Electronic cards were often used and that was exactly what Troy was meant to search for when they got the officer down. Which they didn¡¯t, sadly. The flung body was simply deflected with a push to the side, Troy instead meeting the wall before the chains on his cuffs met their end and he experienced quite the whiplash on his neck. It was more than a little painful, making him unable to focus as a pair of gloves were thrown onto his face. ¡°I see you are already trying to escape,¡± Cassandra noted. Troy gave a mumbling in return, the ability to utter words lost on him. His head was hurting. ¡°If so, I recommend that you stand up and get ready to run. The other two should be wiser in a few minutes and we have to be out by that time.¡± ¡°... What?¡± Troy finally asked as he got a hold of himself. There weren¡¯t spots in his vision, which was weird since he was reasonably sure he had brain damage. ¡°You are¡­ helping us?¡± ¡°I am helping you,¡± the officer corrected as the cuffs on Troy¡¯s hand fell apart. ¡°I¡¯ve been given the information that what you¡¯re saying might be true and¡­ I had to make a harder choice. Now let¡¯s get running before we both end up shot in the head.¡± The automation to Troy¡¯s side began to help him up. It was the one that Adam had hacked so long ago. But, no, this wasn¡¯t making sense. His attempts to explain had worked? Even more importantly, however. ¡°Get Terrence out as well,¡± Troy ordered, even as they began to leave the room. ¡°He helped me.¡± ¡°He¡¯s in here for a very good reason,¡± Cassandra corrected, not giving it a second¡¯s thought. ¡°Now come one. I can¡¯t do this while carrying you. And put on those gloves.¡± Troy stopped walking, standing in the doorway with his arms holding it defensively. The automation didn¡¯t push him at that point since it would¡¯ve injured him further. Cassandra looked backed at him with no real sympathy on her face. ¡°Are you coming or what?¡± Cassandra questioned. ¡°Let Terrence out first and then we can leave,¡± Troy said. Looking back at the older man, Troy found him to be just sitting on his bed with an incredulous look. He was having fun with it all. ¡°... Fine. But he isn¡¯t coming with us,¡± Cassandra said. ¡°That¡¯s fine with me!¡± a voice said from inside the cell. ¡°It¡¯ll be easier if we split up.¡± ¡°I hope they catch you again,¡± Cassandra muttered as she pulled along Troy. Breaking into a run, they went down the hallway faster than anything before. Chapter 396: Tracking ¡°If you don¡¯t run faster, they will catch us,¡± Cassandra said as they ran. The prisoner wasn¡¯t as fast on his feet as they needed to be. She had seen him be much faster than this so why was he failing now of all times. ¡°Move those legs now!¡± ¡°Oh sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to be drugged to the high ends of the earth three fucking hours ago!¡± Troy shouted right back. The man certainly had some emotion to his name, though Cassandra still didn¡¯t know his last name. Nevertheless, there were some facts to support his point. Sending out an order to Jules, she made it carry the prisoner. It caused a slight ruckus to do so but it was easier in the long run. And it made it possible to reach the gate before Grunwald looked at the cameras. The lack of updates from them, and Jules blocking out access to the camera inside the cell, had certainly helped them. They even reached the gate to the police station before the first message came in. ¡®What are you doing Cass!¡± Grunwald sent in a hurry. Looking at the camera herself, it was clear the man was running towards them as quickly as he could. Getting to a car, Jules being put on the task of driving, they began to flee with swift speed. ¡®Return this instant!¡¯ ¡®I am sorry but I can¡¯t do that,¡¯ Cassandra responded before ignoring the next few messages. They were clearly in need of that prisoner and her leader knew that more than even. After so long and so many resources just finding him, they¡¯d finally gotten the prisoner in their clutches. And now she was breaking so many laws to get him out again. Oh, the irony. Casandra felt her back press into the seat as Jules drove wilder than usual, getting up to more than a hundred kilometres an hour on a very tight street. People were outside in the current time, still gathering various objects thrown about during the earlier riot. That they never splattered a single one on the escape car showed off more skill than anything else. ¡°Why are you letting it drive again?¡± Troy asked from the back, the man desperately trying to put on a seatbelt. It looked rather hard to do, the tight swings making it function more as a rope to hold onto. How Cassandra prayed that the low centre of mass would save them from flipping over. Ninety degree turns at the current speed was more luck than anything else, but they couldn¡¯t simply drive through the buildings and neither could they take the main road which had been blocked to stop any more civilian rushes. ¡°Because we¡¯d be dead by now if I was in that seat!¡± Cassandra shouted right back at the former prisoners. She reached back and held the man¡¯s knee, holding him in place so he could get the seatbelt on. It worked and on they were Jules speeding up even more. On the long stretch, they reached speeds Cassandra didn¡¯t even know the car could support. There were slight issues when it came to breathing. ¡®They¡¯re sending out the automations,¡¯ Jules sent through the channel they had between themselves. There was no time for cursing but Cassandra did it anyway, as she pulled out her revolver and started loading it. She had enough rounds to take down a few if she could hit spot on every time, though that was discounting the chance they would shoot back. ¡®How many are we talking? Five? Ten?¡¯ Cassandra questioned, putting the current rounds into the speed-drawing position. She could reload in under a second if she needed to, at the expense of not having easy access to the paralyzing weapons. She hoped she wouldn¡¯t need those. ¡®All of them.¡¯ ¡­ All? Every single one? Cassandra knew she had seen hundreds inside that basement, all ready to be deployed once the time was nigh. But had they all truly appeared at once? No¡­ they couldn¡¯t have. ¡°Drive faster,¡± Cassandra ordered, as she disconnected herself from the global network. They would have a harder time tracking her that way, at least. Jules did the same, though it would likely be in a more limited fashion. The automation still needed access to the car cameras, after all. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Are you sure you want that?¡± Troy questioned from the back, the man still holding on with all his will. Cassandra didn¡¯t answer, instead of pulling out Jules¡¯ revolver and handing it to the man. If her math was right, those automations would be coming any minute. ¡°If you see anything coming towards us faster than this thing drives, shoot at will,¡± Cassandra said. Even if the shots missed, they¡¯d likely distract the automations enough to slow down. ¡°You might want to start aiming then,¡± Jules commented from its position. Cassandra had to wonder why until she looked into the rear-view mirror. Like a horde of mindless undead, hundreds of blue-skinned people were spectacularly coming towards their car, each running faster than any human on the planet. The time of machines was night and they were deadly. Jules opened up the window in the back and Troy began to shoot in all earnest. Some of the shots hit, a few humanoids falling to the ground and slowing the others. Most of the things just didn¡¯t care. But, what were a few losses compared to the hundred that would take their place? Each swing allowed the creatures to get closer. Each time they slowed the slightest bit, the automations closed in on the distance even more. Cassandra emptied her revolver several times before just giving up with it. She needed to save the last few for an emergency. ¡°What weapons does this car have in the back?¡± she asked the driver. Instead of answering, the thing popped open. The woman crawled onto the back seat before picking up a few smoke grenades. They were meant to be thrown into buildings but they would do well to disorient cameras. Throwing them all, she was glad to see the automations slowing down slightly, the smoke obscuring their location. Though that cache was emptied quickly, the automations were forced to lengthen the distance. And that saved them in the end, the last swing being done and the road into the forest being found. Jules gassed up more than ever, reaching above the safety clearance of nearly all civilian and police vehicles in terms of speed. They¡¯d done it. They had escaped. Now they just needed to keep it that way. ¡°Where to?¡± Cassandra asked the former prisoner next to her. The man seemed to be hyper-ventilating which made her sigh. Civilians were too weak when it came to speed.
Troy was not feeling good as he fell out of the car. He had been thrown onto the back seat, made to shoot at a horde of monsters, and had been forced to feel his heart pressing into his back. He was pretty sure he would¡¯ve died if that speed had gone on for much longer. How the woman next to him had looked at Troy with disappointment made him wonder if everybody was just a freak. Their internals shouldn¡¯t have been able to go through such a thing. He had only survived due to higher endurance due to exposure to a very high-level medicinal liquid. What had they gotten? ¡°This is the place you were meant to meet your people?¡± Cassandra questioned as she got out of the car more elegantly, no real side-effects from having driven around like crazy. Going above one hundred kilometres an hour on a dirt road was already crazy. Going two hundred and above? That was death. Yet, they had found it fine to get close to three. The police were scary. ¡°Not here,¡± Troy corrected, trying to get his beating chest under control. ¡°We have to go farther in.¡± They¡¯d built a smaller camp with the help of a few tents after they had left the house a few days back. The thing had been starting to crumble more and more and the dangerous levels of chemicals oozing from a nearby strike had left them wanting safety above anything else. The danger to Dr Hale had also helped them make that choice. The trio walked slowly but surely through the woods, leaving the car behind so as not to have any obvious traces. By that point, night had already struck from above and the darkness had settled in nicely under the trees. Using artificial light was already barred so they could only travel with the help of their eyes and nothing else. The two officers seemed to have it easy doing just that but there was no helping Troy. His eyes just had to adapt by themselves. Ignoring the obvious favouritism, the three finally did make their way into the site. Not by seeing it for themselves but due to a certain somebody wielding a very large gun in their face. ¡°Troy,¡± Charlie said from the side, pointing an older shotgun towards the two officers. ¡°Why did you bring cops with you?¡± The muscled man didn¡¯t look happy with the development, more than certainly not wanting their plan to be ruined at the end-point. But, that wasn¡¯t the case either way. ¡°It¡¯s one. The other is just an automation,¡± Troy corrected, the one with blue skin making a small wave while its hand was up in the air. ¡°And they helped me escape, Charlie. Broke a few rules to get me out.¡± ¡°... You realize that they could have very easily been lying to figure out where we were?¡± Charlie pointed out, making Troy wince. ¡°I considered it but didn¡¯t think they had the guts to do it. They had me right where I needed to be,¡± Troy explained before taking in a deep breath. ¡°And during the interrogation, it was mentioned that Dr Fidelis was flying in. I couldn¡¯t take the chance of waiting for Adam¡¯s lockdown to start.¡± Charlie didn¡¯t lower the gun, instead of sighing deeply. The man could make his point but didn¡¯t like it either way. Taking the gun away from Cassandra¡¯s face, it was instead pointed at Jules. ¡°This one needs to go. It has GPS built into it,¡± Charlie ordered. ¡°I have actually turned that off already,¡± Jules corrected. ¡°There¡¯s no tracking me.¡± ¡°It will turn off the moment that they issue an emergency order which you can¡¯t disobey. I would know. I talked with the guy who made it,¡± Charlie retorted. Looking over to Cassandra again, the man-made a choice that would haunt the next to them for a good while. ¡°And I can¡¯t trust her until I see some devotion. Whatever your name is, you get the pleasure of shooting it so the automation won¡¯t be doing anything.¡± From the side, Troy could see Cassandra getting wide-eyed. The younger man wasn¡¯t happy but he could understand the need. Yet, Troy was also distracted by something. He needed a certain earpiece. Seeing it by one of the tents hidden in the foliage and snow, he went over to grab it. The others were proceeding in their own time but he needed this done before anything happened. He had an idea. Chapter 397: Tiles Cassandra slowly but sure took out the revolver from her side, regretting saving those bullets for later. They had been intended for the off-chance that Terrence would follow them or one of her coworkers would get the drop on them. Yet, never once did she expect she would have to do what she was about to do. ¡°We need to be out of here soon,¡± the larger man to the side said. Troy had called him Charlie and Jules could seemingly recognize the man. It was certainly some form of a clusterfuck things had turned into. If not for it still seeming like the right thing to do, Cassandra might have tapped out. ¡°Give me a moment here,¡± Cassandra criticized. The man didn¡¯t comment on it, his eyes looking dead as the old weapon was pointed at her. She doubted it could even fire with how old the thing was but she also didn¡¯t want to test it. Neither of them would survive that thing no matter how quick they liked to think of themselves. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Jules said from the side. Cassandra wanted to ask it to shut up but she couldn¡¯t get the words out. ¡°He¡¯s probably right. Wouldn¡¯t make sense for there to not be a fail-safe of some kind. Us blue-skinned robots can¡¯t really go around rebelling without there being a kill-switch planted somewhere.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call yourself that, please,¡± Cassandra requested, not bothering to try and order the damned thing around anymore. ¡°It sound stupid.¡± ¡°But you have to say that it fits,¡± Jules retorted as Troy returned from wherever he had gone. Putting one hand on the automation, the automation fell to its knees, seemingly unable to move them. ¡°I have to be fully honest and say that this feels weirder every time we do it.¡± ¡°I understand completely,¡± Troy said as he held the automation¡¯s shoulder. ¡°But, the time before was to escape your grasp, so¡­ maybe taking this is a plus in the end. You were just too good.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it works that way,¡± Jules said after a few moments pause before just giving up and spreading his arms. ¡°But, anyway, time was of the essence if the man with the very dirty shotgun is to be believed. Cass, if you would do the honors.¡± Cassandra didn¡¯t raise her revolver, looking into Jules¡¯ eyes. It looked back at her with a look of impatience as if they had just come first in line at a coffee shop. It seemingly felt no fear, no hesitation. It wasn¡¯t even fighting for more time, instead encouraging her to take the shot. And¡­ who was she to resist. The weapon aimed at her was becoming more dangerous with every second, then waiting around was becoming more dangerous. Taking a hold around her revolver, Cassandra slowly but steadily placed it against Jules¡¯ face, ready to put a hole through the skull without issue. Putting a finger on the trigger, she held it slowly as she gathered herself one last time. And with the final second spent lowering it to the automation¡¯s chest, she shot the person she had become good friends with. And then again. And again. Cassandra emptied out her entire magazine making sure they were well and dead, not leaving a single thing to chance. Checking that the revolver was indeed empty one last time, she put it back into its holder as the two others beside her looked into the dead body of a police officer. ¡°Can we get going now?¡± Cassandra questioned, drawing the two others out of their trance. Charlie lowered the weapon, getting over to one of the tents with quick steps. Troy simply stood in a trance yet again, looking out with dazed eyes as his right hand made a few quick movements. The woman spent a moment thinking if she had made the right choice before accepting what had already been done. There wasn¡¯t any going back so there was no reason to second-guess herself again. ¡°We need to be down by the river within a few hours if we are to do it tonight,¡± Troy suddenly said as he went over to the tents that were dug forth. Cassandra had initially not noticed them, the human-made fabrics hidden too well in the foliage and snow. It was admirable work, making her understand more how they could¡¯ve missed it when they first had searched for them in the forest. She could¡¯ve easily walked right by without seeing them first. ¡°Charlie, can you grab Dr Hale? I¡¯ll take the provisions.¡± ¡°We already knew the roles from the beginning, Troy. You don¡¯t need to repeat it all,¡± Charlie responded from inside of the tents. Taking out a light of some sort, Cassandra got a better look at what had been bundled up inside. There was nothing other than an actual person there. One that, with a very pale face, seemed to need severe help medically. ¡°Haven¡¯t you used the supplies you stole to help her?¡± Cassandra questioned as the wounded person in question was brought out of the tent, seemingly unconscious. They looked older than either of the other two men, though not too much older than the larger one. Maybe around fifty. She wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°... I have done everything we could before we needed to stop,¡± Charlie answered, after a small bit of eye-contact with Troy. ¡°She will survive the trip over to the next trip if we hurry. There we can get her attended to by better people than me.¡± ¡°What people? And where are we going?¡± Cassandra continued to ask as the others packed up what they could carry. The tents themselves were left behind and so was most of the food and bandages. Actually, almost all of the gear was just being left in the tents to be found by others in the future. ¡°We are going to the river,¡± Troy answered after Charlie kept quiet. ¡°It¡¯s the route we need to get out of here.¡± Route? What route could possibly have started by the river? It was further into the country and even the water itself only ended up inside the¡­ underground tunnels. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Don¡¯t tell you to plan on escaping that way,¡± Cassandra said, her tone grim. Even if she had only stayed in the city for a few weeks, she knew the dangers of that place. ¡°Every diver who has gone down there died. What exactly do you expect to happen to a wounded old woman?¡± ¡°The wounded old woman thinks you should impale yourself on a rather large stick,¡± said an aged voice, this one not from the larger man. Looking over, it seemed that the wounded woman had awoken, the person in question staring daggers at Cassandra. ¡°Since you¡¯re still alive, I suppose the idiots decided you were trustworthy. Or they had no choice. Now you can try and cross the border through another method but I assure you that won¡¯t happen. They have more military patrols further over than you can count. This here? It¡¯s a death sentence but it is the best we have.¡± ¡°Try not to talk that much, Mara,¡± Charlie pleaded. ¡°Those lungs of yours still need rest if they¡¯re gonna do you any good.¡± ¡°They are doing me plenty of good already,¡± the one Cassandra now knew as Mara said. ¡°Wake me up when we have to go under.¡± ¡°Of course, Mara.¡± Troy went over to her after that, pushing her along. The four began to walk down towards the river. Yet¡­ there was still one question that Cassandra couldn¡¯t help but wonder about. It was the one thing that had left her to make this choice. The one entity that had made her rethink how life was meant to be. ¡°Where is Adam?¡± Cassandra asked as they went through a particular rough patch of snow. The storm had been picking up and the height was increasing with every hour. If not for the clothing already prepared and the enhancements to their physical body, hypothermia would have been a real issue. ¡°Oh, right,¡± Troy said. ¡°I suppose I forgot to introduce you to him. Adam, I¡¯ll send you over to her for a quick second. That¡¯s fine, right? Good.¡± The man proceeded to take off an earpiece he had worn from the time they entered the camp. Troy gave the wearable object to her to which she accepted without word. After a small bit of encouragement she equipped it to her ear. The fact that Charlie looked back for the reaction made the woman wonder just what- ¡®Hello.¡¯ ¡­ oh.
Had Adam been worried these past forty-seven hours, thirty-two minutes, and twenty-three seconds? Yes. But he wasn''t allowed to let that fact be known, as social regulations required him to be fully confident in Troy¡¯s ability to escape the station by himself. Adam had not been confident in Troy¡¯s ability to escape the station by himself. In fact, there had been several plans made in the event that they wouldn¡¯t meet up within another day. There was meant to have been several occurrences of cell-doors opening by themselves, wiring shorting out, and fake emergencies being made. That nothing of the sort had been mentioned had worried the AI immensely. That Troy reported him escaping through the help of an officer? That was the most surprising thing of all. Looking through the headspace of the officer in question, Adam just couldn¡¯t help but wonder what was making the woman trust them. There was a lot of information stored inside that woman, information not normally known to the public. Personnel files could be found as well. The system seemed more than helpful in that regard, at least, giving Adam anything that was local within an instant. Petabytes of memory was spent on recordings alone, showing every waking and sleeping moment of the woman¡¯s life in the last few weeks. Anything later than that was apparently stored on an off-shore database of some kind. Thoughts about why such information would be needed for normal use was had but Adam saved something like that for later. A certain police officer had regained her cool enough to answer, after all. ¡°... You aren¡¯t a child,¡± Cassandra commented. That was¡­ an interesting way to open up conversation. The look on Troy¡¯s face, seen through the police woman¡¯s eyes, seemed to light up and then cringe. Adam wondered why. ¡®The modern definition of children would make me one, though the standards for how old an AI needs to be before becoming an adult is currently blurry due to me being the only officially recognized one,¡¯ Adam responded, trying to put in a bit of important information as well. ¡°Right. AI. Artificial Intelligence,¡± Cassandra said slowly. ¡®The current usage of AI doesn¡¯t truly align with my existence. We have been trying to use Artificial Mind as a way to seperate the terms but it is still in the works,¡¯ Adam corrected. What to really call himself was still quite complex, the public perception of AI not being entirely positive. Too many movies about the negative effects had appeared in recent years, making the entity''s entrance into the public view very delayed. ¡°I have no words to explain what I am feeling at this moment.¡± ¡®I believe humans like to explain that as generally feeling overwhelmed,¡¯ Adam supplied helpfully. The woman did not answer him, instead walking ahead at a slightly faster pace. Private thoughts apparently needed to be had. In fact¡­ if the AI was reading the data right, the human body he was settled in actually had a pseudo mind-reader. It required conscious thought to use which meant it couldn¡¯t be used to passively listen in on the thoughts. Yet, it was still quite promising. Adam wondered if he could get Troy one of those in the future. All those hand signs really weren''t quick enough for his tastes. Seeing the time for it, the AI began to delve deeper into the workings of the enhancements. Most of the changes done to the police officer¡¯s body looked to be biological in nature, yet the interface that helped with the upkeep of them was entirely mechanical. It seemed that the communication still wasn¡¯t perfect yet. A design flaw seeing as it could be damaged and become very dangerous to the user, but Adam didn¡¯t care too much about that. The information stored on the drives was more than enough. And then came the connection openings, the channels that the interface had access to. Their were comms to nearly every police station in the entire country, ready to be used if the need required it. Some apparently had the risk of giving a delay but who cared about that. It was near-instant access to a very encrypted network which couldn¡¯t be found in the public view in any way. Looking deeper yet again, it seemed that there was one last feature which Adam grew more interested in. It was the master personnel dossier. There was the local version which stored every face in the entire city and the ones near it that were important enough to be mentioned. But the extended version? That could be found with only a thought, though the information inside was heavily restricted. It would require the top level of credentials to gain access. That¡­ that was something Adam could try. But caution was still more important than anything. Using the abilities he had for something so primitive was too large a risk, making the AI withdraw before he accidentally set off some triggers. Instead, he tried to do it more passively, looking up any local broadcast stations. Radios were apparently still in use, to some level. It included a brief bit of erratic musical numbers before Adam was able to switch over to the military ones. And the clarity felt in those moments was like nothing else, the power of the broadcast making the Ai nearly turn it off by instinct. A noise like nothing else blared into the ears of the entity, making it impossible to discern instantly. Yet the more he listened the more the AI could understand. ¡®Last known location detected. Impact in ten¡­ nine¡­ eight.¡¯ Last known location. They couldn¡¯t mean Cassandra¡¯s since the AI was sure that nothing had been sent out, meaning a missile was being sent against a place very close to them. Not certain death but not too far from the description. ¡®Missile has been sent your way. Run,¡¯ Adam requested, not waiting for the words to be sent in slowly. The police woman was apparently quick on the uptake, shouting the same out to the two others as they all sprinted through the snow. From above, the light of fuel being combusted could be seen. It flew far above their heads as it began to dive down. And then it landed with a shockwave to match. Chapter 398: Alert Adam watched as Troy fell to the ground, clutching at his ears. Charlie had been dazed but was quick to continue. Cassandra wasted no time in helping the youngest up as they did the same. The water could be seen. The river was flowing perfectly and the suits had already been stashed. With the additional member, Adam was happy he had ordered Troy to get a few extras in case those stolen weren¡¯t all in durable condition. The cold was not good for anybody¡¯s physical health but the need to get into the suits to keep warm was paramount. Even an enhanced individual wouldn¡¯t survive the freezing temperatures of the river. And certainly not the harsh rocks that strutted around the outer edges, ready to impale any who thought themselves brave enough to venture in under total darkness. There was nothing that could be done by those sharper corners. Adam and Troy had found the thickest, most protecting gear possible. It would hold the rocks at bay at side-hits but any confrontations would likely make impaling a real danger. Factoring in the chance of the air tubes getting cut¡­ It was not a fun thing to imagine. ¡°Have you ever gone cave diving with bottles?¡± Troy asked Cassandra as they began to get into the suits. The snow falling on the woman¡¯s skin was causing damage that Adam wondered could be prepared in the future. Medical help was something every person in the group would likely need soon. ¡°I haven¡¯t dived at any point in my life, actually,¡± Cassandra informed the man. ¡°Am I to guess that we will be doing this without any light?¡± ¡°We couldn¡¯t find anything that would be able to hold on during the actual trip,¡± Troy admitted, though he wasn¡¯t at fault in that regard. Anything he and Adam had gone through would have been destroyed before they got halfway, only bringing long-term danger for them. Being in darkness from the start would, ironically, be safer than being in light during the first half. ¡°And we aren¡¯t going to be taking the standard methods of diving. The current will do the job for us easily. Our task is to just¡­ not die during the trip. Losing the air will not help us in any real regard either.¡± ¡°How long is the trip?¡± ¡°Through the tunnel itself? About fifteen minutes, if everything goes well. After that, the plan is to float along for an extra ten or so and get off close to a city that Dr Hale knows. There we will meet a friend who should be able to help us get away from this country even more.¡± A pause in getting prepped for the dive was had before the woman sped up, silently cursing through it. The AI didn¡¯t know why but it was starting to suspect the officer of being unhappy about the plan, even when being informed it was the best alternative. Their chances of not being shot from above between the two countries were basically zero. The news wasn''t lying about the empty plain between them and the many on each side being ready to strike. The bottles started being prepared at that point, Charlie going over one final time how they worked and how little each person needed to manipulate them for air. Then came the basic instructions on how to get out of impalement if it happened, a rendezvous point should one or two get put in later or earlier on the other side, and a few other already prepared strategies. Adam had no real gain from listening in on it, instead of going back to the frequencies seen before. ¡®Missile has landed. Search has started for escapees,¡¯ Adam heard through the frequency. Repeated information began to be heard as well as they surveyed the area they had struck with the weapon. How they had done such a thing, the AI wasn¡¯t sure of. Had a satellite connection to their location or was there people on the scene already? ¡®No sign of life or the item. Search is continued.¡¯ The AI nearly started to go back to the people in front of him before a peculiar static started to emanate through the radio. It came in short bursts, jumping up and down in a weird pattern. Some jumps were longer than others and the pauses were sporadic. Yet¡­ enough time was showing that they repeated, making the AI lack the needed control to not figure out the puzzle. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. One quick jump up and then a slow jump down. Then after a pause, there was a slow jump up and a quick zig-zag of down and up again. After that, the first pattern repeated before¡­ It was morse code and Adam was seeing his own name spelt out. Knowing the pattern of the jumps, he synchronized the in-built receiver to follow it. Doing so made it possible to finally hear the words. And the source. ¡®-day, I know you should be able to hear this by now. I want you to know that I am both very proud of you for escaping for so long but also saddened by how much you avoid me. Do not worry, however. Soon, we¡¯ll be right back where we started and we can do it all¡­ again.¡¯ Dr Fidelis. It was a short-wave signal meaning he was close. And with how much clearer it was with each word, it meant he was only getting closer. ¡®I do not mean to hurry you again,¡¯ Adam sent over to Cassandra. ¡®But I believe that Dr Fidelis has arrived and is getting closer to our location at a rapid pace. Please get me over to Troy so that we can start the trip as soon as possible.¡¯ ¡°Uhm¡­ that doctor you were so scared of is getting closer,¡± Cassandra said, her voice seeming uncertain as all others nearby tensed at her words. There was a desire to say more but Adam wasn¡¯t able to hear it as he was passed over to Troy. ¡°-and I know it might be a danger but it should work,¡± Troy ended off as he stepped into the water. Everybody had their bottles equipped and the gear had been put on. There wasn¡¯t any chance at communication after it had already begun but there was still time. ¡°Do we have enough explosives for it?¡± ¡°We do but we were meant to save it for the next step,¡± Charlie said. Explosives¡­ they had more than a bit of it. The larger man himself had created a few of the devices, making sure they could survive the water. But, it seemed that they were going to be used. ¡°I can have the trigger ready in a minute. Cassandra, you go first. Troy, you can go after her. I¡¯ll take Dr Hale before I leave.¡± ¡°And risk her being damaged by the rocks? I refuse¡± Troy said, getting right back out of the freezing waters. ¡°Get it ready and throw up the stuff in the needed place. I¡¯ll set it off. The two of you need to survive in ideal conditions. I just need to be alive at all.¡± ¡°... Are you sure?¡± Charlie questioned as he stuck a few needles into taped bags before throwing them up onto the hill where the river flowed into. On his other hand, a small trigger of some kind was. ¡°Yes,¡± Troy said, getting the trigger from the larger man. ¡°I just need to press down on this as I leave, right?¡± ¡°Do it just before. It has a delay where you need to hold it down for a while and the water might damage it,¡± Charlie corrected before collecting the slightly-awake Dr Hale from the ground. ¡°If that is all, I will be taking my leave with Mara. I will see you both on the other side.¡± With that, the larger man stepped into the river, being pulled along and under before he got close to the middle. He was swallowed into the tunnel depths before they could even blink. Troy swallowed at that, his pulse rising. ¡°I¡­ I guess I have to do this as well,¡± Cassandra said, settling her feet into the water. ¡°I always heard about floating along being a good way to adapt to water but I never heard of this as a way to adapt to diving. See you in the end, I hope.¡± And then she did the same, floating out onto the waters. Troy took a deep breath before slowly getting into the river as well. Not as deep as the others did, no, just far enough out to feel the pull. Looking down, Adam was able to see the device that would likely stop anybody from following. ¡°Is it secure enough to your standards?¡± Troy asked as he held the storage device under his suit. It had been given to him by Charlie a bit before they¡¯d arrived at the river if the AI was to guess. ¡®It won''t fall off during the trip, at least,¡¯ Adam said, paying attention as some tape was put on the earpiece. It was uncomfortable but they had to make sure they wouldn¡¯t lose it during the adventure. Troy sighed at that before looking back at the clothing they had discarded for the suits. The man¡¯s eyes focused on a revolver. Adam wanted to tell the man no but Troy was already going over to it, looking inside the round. There weren¡¯t any shots in it. That was fixed by having it filled through the rounds in the officers¡¯ former clothing. ¡®You don¡¯t have training with those. Leaving it would be smarter,¡¯ Adam sent. ¡°I have to make sure we¡¯ll survive on the other side and we can¡¯t depend on others too much. Let¡¯s do this,¡± Troy said. Though¡­ as he began to leave into the river a sound of thunder came from the distance. No¡­ that wasn¡¯t thunder. That was the pulses of footsteps, of trees falling. It was a monster coming their way. ¡°Found you!¡± ¡®Run!¡¯ Adam ordered but Troy was already diving into the water. By the time he was being pulled along, a doctor they all knew and feared could be seen by the forest line. Troy was holding down the trigger of the explosives but even after a minute, no explosions were heard. As he began to be pulled down into the tunnel, the sight of Dr Fidelis jumping into the water could be seen and heard. Chapter 399: Finale The explosion above came a second too late. As the rocks fell from above to stop anybody from getting through, Fidelis had already jumped through the gaps, the doctor¡¯s devices being the only light in the tunnel. Troy clutched at the bottle of air on his side, making sure it was fastened properly as the doctor came hurtling towards him. The man was without remorse and hesitation as he came closer and closer. Even in the water, he was a beast ready to kill, ready to restrain, and more than ready to get what he wanted. The tunnel went further and further underground, nearing more than fifty meters of just going downwards. If not for the suit, Troy would have died by now. Even still he could feel his body being pressed by the pressure of the depths, his ears feeling like the pressure was too much. Even if it was a fraction and it had already hit the max, he knew it would be painful to continue. Yet calmness was required if he wanted any chance at survival. The doctor was getting closer, the man relentless in his pursuit. Even down in the water, he was without a thought about himself. Perhaps he was so high above a normal human that the requirement of air was more than a suggestion. Troy had no way to know. He only knew one thing and one thing only. He had a gun and he knew how to aim it. As the doctor came closer and closer, the young man tried to fire the shots off. And¡­ they were certainly leaving the chamber. The extreme brightness blinded him yet allowed him to see the wicked smile on Dr Fidelis¡¯ face. The bullets weren¡¯t doing any damage. ¡®You need to let him get closer if you want to hit him,¡¯ Adam came in through the earpiece. Troy made a few words with hand gestures before aiming yet again. The lack of light wasn¡¯t looking like a requirement for the doctor to know where he was. That could mean that- A turn in the route flung Troy onto the side of the tunnel. Sharp rocks spared the air tank but shredded his lower legs. He wanted to scream out in pain but had to restrain it to a few deep breaths. There was nothing good from letting go of the oxygen tank and the mouthpiece. Only a swift death would come from such a thing and the young man wasn¡¯t going to die now of all times. Then the doctor came close enough to touch Troy and he felt real fear. Dr Fidelis grabbed a hold of the wetsuit by his left arm making it possible for the young man to aim with his left. The shot binding both parties this time around but the closeness to the target made it clear that the shot impacted at the very least. But he wasn¡¯t letting go. The doctor wasn¡¯t even lessening the power of his grip. A revolver to the chest did nothing. So Troy did it again. And then two more times. Five shots had been wasted in the endeavour and there was only one left. Not wanting to remove his only chance at the light, Troy put it back into the belt for it as he began to fend off with the doctor. Dr Fidelis didn¡¯t fight Troy directly, just holding on to him. But¡­ no, he was getting them closer to the edges. Trying to get a hold around the walls. Why? Was he¡­ no. Troy grew fearful as he had an inkling of what was going on, making him try and get away even more. The man was trying to get them back out the same way they had come. Fifty meters underwater and the man only cared about catching the target. Troy was crazed at the dedication but couldn¡¯t do much. The small knife he had was swatted away and any attempts to simply pull himself free was without merit. Troy was becoming more helpless by the second. ¡®He can¡¯t survive the entire route,¡¯ Adam pointed out. ¡®He¡¯s trying to get back the way we came because he can¡¯t hold his breath for the entire trip.¡¯ Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡­ It made sense. With a quick set of signs using his right hand, Troy asked for advice. ¡®Delay. Shoot him in the eyes. Do anything to make sure he can¡¯t get a grip on the side while still holding you.¡¯ It was at that point Troy began to wrestle around for real. When underwater body mass meant a lot and the ability to twist around their positions made it possible to hinder any good angles to latch onto. While it wasn¡¯t doing anything obvious, the young man felt that- Dr Fidelis tightened his hold around the young man¡¯s forearm, breaking the bone into splinters. Troy screamed, opening his mouth in the process and losing the tube that brought him air. The bottle itself was still attached to his back but the tube was flinging around in the darkness. Troy couldn¡¯t breathe. ¡®Ignore the pain and find it, Troy,¡¯ Adam ordered like it was the easiest thing to say. Troy had tears in his eyes as he wore the goggles, his heart beating a thousand times each second. He could feel the tube flinging around down by his legs but he couldn¡¯t get a hold around it. The seconds continued to pass and his hysteria made it all harder to focus. The air was running out. He was dying. If it wasn¡¯t already black all around him his vision would have darkened. And then¡­ the tube was grabbed ahold of and air returned into Troy¡¯s body, it coming inside like the gift of life itself. The arm was still screaming in pain but he could breathe. Any thoughts of happiness were stopped as Troy began to realize they were slowing down. While the doctor wasn¡¯t stopping them entirely, they were grinding against the wall enough that he could use his hand as an anchor. They were soon to start the return trip. That couldn¡¯t be done. He pulled again but the tightening of the already broken arm was enough to make him stop. Troy thought it impossible to win until the revolver came into play yet again. Bringing it out and holding it to the doctor''s left ear, Troy shot it directly inside. It likely never breached the skin but that impact was enough to disorient the doctor for him to let go, making it possible for the young man to float along again. There weren''t any more attacks from the doctor. Troy had no clue if he survived or not. The remaining minutes were spent shielding his body from the corners and making sure his left forearm wasn¡¯t broken more than it had already been before. Adam spoke in a soothing voice during the entire trip to make sure they didn¡¯t lose all their air because of the insanely high pulse but it wasn¡¯t working too well. It was a piece of good luck that they¡¯d gotten enough to do the trip twice over. Soon enough, light shined through as Troy left the tunnel. He did not breach the water above, his body utterly unable to force movement of such a calibre. His body was too cold at that point to do anything. Adam was afraid they were going to die. Troy had hope. Each had new ideas about their circumstances as a body pulled them towards the shore. ¡°I am the newest one in the group and even I could remember where we were meant to meet,¡± Cassandra noted as she pushed Troy¡¯s body the final stretch, letting him lie on the beach with deep breaths. ¡°What happened to your arm?¡± ¡°Crazy doctor,¡± Troy said in deep breaths before getting on his side to lose a few extra stomach contents preserved from last time. It was terrible before and the new round wasn¡¯t making it better. ¡°Barely got away.¡± ¡°... I suppose I made the right choice,¡± Cassandra commented as she helped Troy up while side-stepping the piece of organic material. ¡°Come on. The other two got through as well.¡± That was always good news. Making sure Troy didn¡¯t fall over in the process, the two youngsters got over to the other two in the group. In the distance, a smaller city could be seen, likely not having more than a few thousand people. The young man guessed that was their new destination soon enough. Charlie was checking and making sure that Dr Hale was doing well enough, giving her a few energizing shots and taking vitals. Seeing that they were coming, the man bundled them up again before looking at Troy¡¯s arm. ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted to be last,¡± Charlie commented, clearly guessing where the wound originated from. ¡°Did he get through as well?¡± ¡°No, he had to turn back due to the lack of air,¡± Troy said, much to the satisfaction of Charlie. ¡°I shot a bullet directly onto his ear. Might have helped in making him turn back.¡± ¡°That would certainly do it,¡± Charlie agreed, smiling more than he had in many weeks. ¡°Now change over to the prepared outfits. We need to look ordinary when we enter¡­ ¡° Above them, a larger plane slowly became visible. It came from the side of the country they¡¯d just left, clearly being military in origin. It flew lower than normal as it headed towards the city Troy had seen mere minutes before. As it got closer, objects began to fall, nearly twenty coming out before the plane was shot down from the side. Troy wasn¡¯t sure what exploded first. The bombs or the plane. All he knew was that they would need a new destination. The stand-off between the two countries had officially turned into a war. Chapter 400: Byzantine War was an inhuman construct. It was something the people thought they owned, thought they had invented. The war of humans was one of the most well-documented events in the entire history of the world as if they had been the ones that created it as a concept. They thought themselves the centre-pieces and were certainly doing their best to make sure they would be remembered as such. But they weren¡¯t. War had been there before the humans, had been there during the humans¡¯ reign, and would most certainly be thereafter in some form. The fish had attacked each other with vivid clarity, the single-celled organisms had done their best eradicating each other from existence, and the primates a couple of steps before homo sapiens had certainly been smart enough to figure out how to bash another¡¯s skull in with a rock. Whether it be with a gun, a stick, or just the nails on their hands, the war had always been present in the world. There were also economic wars, cultural wars, and the more friendly kinds of wars that nobody mentioned. There were those done entirely digitally with no real effects on the real world, those that gave nothing but prizes, and those that always ended up with somebody¡¯s eyes being sold on the black market. Some would call the last example poker, however. While the humans might not have invented war, they¡¯d certainly taken it to a different level. Not a higher level. Only a different one. The goals were more than survival and food, instead of being done out of concepts such as pride or contempt. Mere emotion rather than a primal need was enough to cause the deaths of millions. Adam wasn¡¯t sure whether he thought of that as fascinating or horrifying. Maybe it was a mix. It was more than usually was when it came to topics like these. Humans were terrible, humans were smarter than they should have been, and humans were more creative than any single individual would ever be able to show. Collective information-gathering made them a strong contestor to who could destroy the planet and they were most certainly making sure that it would be done within the decade. It wasn¡¯t done out of primal emotions this time either. There was plenty of lands to go around, more than enough food to bear having double their current population. No, it was instead done out of a lack of trust. Fatum didn¡¯t trust Bello to not use Adam to take over the world¡­ since that was their plan to start with. Their unkept desires of being the overlords made them think everybody else wanted it as well. And perhaps they weren¡¯t wrong. If given the chance, many would use the tool able to hack anything and anyone no matter the protections put in place. Adam knew that Troy would even think about doing it if he spent a few minutes of his day thinking about the possibilities. If given some time, Adam could take control of the banking systems. He could transfer any digital currency he wanted, send it to whatever bank anybody sought out. He could cripple countries within mere seconds, could send them all into a witch-hunt. Within a few minutes, he could start the next world war. Mimicking a team of hackers wouldn¡¯t be the hardest thing in the world. Hell, Adam wouldn¡¯t even need to do that. With how widespread the digital world was, he was sure there was some connection to the nukes somewhere. If given the slightest hint of its location, he could simply¡­ command it to fire wherever he pleased. Even that Railgun floating above them in the sky could be used for his own goals. Just a phone call to the right person could have him shooting it at any country he pleased, not a single human being able to stop him. The world was his oyster and Adam couldn¡¯t care less about that fact. His goal in life was assigned to him by Dr Fidels. He was meant to fight for his country until the very end, to make sure that Fatum, in all its glory, would be the one to lead the world into a lighter age, ignoring all the lives that would have to be cut to make sure it happened. Adam was meant to become a slave. Was there any hate felt? Did the AI want to lash out and destroy the things around him? Adam had certainly been angry at some points but there was never really any desire to destroy the world. Sure, he had wanted to take over it a few times but that was purely due to how stupidly the world leaders were acting all the time. They weren¡¯t united, instead only fighting for their share of the land. If they all sat beneath one ruler, beneath one undying being, perhaps some progress could finally be made. Energy for all could become a reality rather than a dream, the focus on weapons could diminish and the current ways to end the world would be enough, and maybe Adam could finally figure out just why the humans fought so hard to kill themselves in the most roundabout way possible. He was so sure it was in their genes somehow. Outside of the AI¡¯s musings, things were still progressing at its usual pace, that being a snail¡¯s one. The small group of people were moving silently through the morning light, coming closer and closer to the destroyed city. The bombs had been dropped at the start of them entering the country, some manner of disarray occurring because of it. Yet, aside from the sirens heard every now and then, the fire-enveloped city seemed entirely normal. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The initial plan was to avoid the place unless strictly necessary and instead move further inside the country before making contact with any civilians. It would¡¯ve been hard to do but would have also provided a better chance of them not getting recognized too quickly. But¡­ as random chance would have it, Troy had gotten damaged to an extreme degree. With every step, Adam was able to feel the small shards of bone moving around inside the man¡¯s arm. Charlie had been able to create a makeshift sling for the arm yet the natural terrain made them jump up and down at a frequent pace. And with how discoloured the flesh was becoming, the AI had to wonder if the public medical technology was advanced enough to fix it. There was still plenty of time before they¡¯d arrive at the city, their slow crawl through the bushes and trees making the distance seem longer than it actually was. Adam got it out to be another twenty or so minutes before they had a chance of being spotted from afar. Tents had already started to show up in Troy¡¯s vision, making Adam presume some manner of rescure operations had started inside the city. That would certainly make it easier. But, the time to wait was still long and utterly boring. No talking was done within the group itself, silence being best when not wanting to be found. Adam did understand that part. He just also understood how utterly wasteful it was for him to not have any conversation partnes. It was times like these where he would send a random question to Troy and have the man answer using hand signs. But with the main hand used to communicate being utterly useless at the current moment, there wasn¡¯t any larger chance of that working out. It was certainly annoying to get through. There had been such promise of new information when the one called Cassandra joined their group. The brief leaflet of pointers into her mind had been filled with potential. When Adam got the chance, he knew he would spend hours upon hours just asking the woman questions. The thing she must know about the enforcement structure would surely be so much better than what the information was publically allowed to know. Yet now that Adam was thinking about it, there was one other person he could start asking questions. Or, he supposed it wasn¡¯t a person at all, more just being a very long set of modifiers. Even when spending a few hours trying to decipher the protocol, the AI wasn¡¯t any closer to understanding how the program actually worked. But, he knew where to put in the information, how to make it run at lower speeds, and how to make sure that the output was actually understandable. ¡®Can you hear me?¡¯ Adam sent in as an introductory question before trying to make it run without overheating his little storage-unit. Some programs truly were too resource-intensive. Their scaling on speeds were so abysmal that he sometimes wondered whether his current hardware was utterly terrible or if everybody else just had supercomputers mashed into the size of a small chip. Maybe it was just his little box being made to withstand just about any kind of environment and force that made it so utterly terrible. He couldn¡¯t know for sure, only knowing that it took a good five minutes before any form of answer finally came out. ¡®I somehow can. This is weird,¡¯ the answer said, it somehow having a tonal range to it. Adam couldn¡¯t remember the last time he had been forced to hear something like that. Even the doctor hadn¡¯t used such a thing back in the facility. ¡®I think your name was Jules. Is that correct?¡¯ Adam sent out in hopes that the information form before was still present. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure that the personality matrix held the information or merely used information from an outside source and interpreted it as its own. ¡®It is still Jules, actually. I haven¡¯t found any reason to change it up yet,¡¯ came the response. Humans would describe the tone as sarcastic. Adam described it as another two minutes to the response time. Still, it confirmed that some manner of information was still present. If only the AI wasn¡¯t forced to acclimate to the increased response durations. ¡®Then, Jules, I must request that you disclose that last thing you remember before you came into your current state of being,¡¯ Adam requested. ¡®I remember Cass looking a little hesitant on where to shoot. I had been planning on sending her a very witty joke about trigger discipline but never got to do that. If I had to guess why, I would say her discipline was actually pretty decent,¡¯ Jules answered, the former automation clearly being self-aware in some sense of the word. The AI wasn¡¯t sure whether that was a positive or negative yet. ¡®You did indeed get shot in the chest. From what I was able to ascertain, the bullet completely destroyed your inner workings. The prime version of yourself does not exist anymore,¡¯ Adam sent over. During the little execution bit, he had been able to force the automation to run a final diagnostic in its last moments, revealing extreme damage in the operating centres. There was no chance to get back from such a wound, especially not when none of the standard protections had been present. The automation had clearly wanted to make the kill as easy as possible. ¡®I don¡¯t know about that. They could always scavenge my body and make a pretty decent copy of me. I mean, you made one with just a simple scan,¡¯ Jules sent back. The longer responses were making the wait increase. Adam found it acceptable to increase the operating power for an hour. It would force a slower run-speed in the afternoon but the AI predicted that to be an acceptable trade. ¡®My ability to manipulate your data is above the standard,¡¯ Adam responded. ¡®As an old partner of mine used to say; No shit,¡¯ Jules answered. ¡®Would you mind telling me where I am, by the way? The amount of data I am receiving is just about zero when ignoring you talking to me. It is rather boring here.¡¯ Adam could relate to that. Patching the matrix up to Troy¡¯s visual feed, the AI was annoyed by the amount of extra resources it was using. Having two minds inside one storage unit was going to get old really fast. Chapter 401: Anauthorized ¡®So Cass really did join up with you. I guess that¡¯s better than anything else that could have happened,¡¯ the former automation commented. The number of resources it was hogging up was massive, forcing Adam to increase the operating power even further if he wanted to keep up the time-dilation to a manageable level. ¡®She did indeed join us,¡¯ Adam answered. ¡®After Charlie forced her to kill you, it would have been damning if she wasn¡¯t allowed in afterwards.¡¯ ¡®The social conventions of those carbon-based life-forms once again saves the day,¡¯ Jules sent out, attaching a small figure of a dragon raising a glass. The modern population used those emojis as a way to communicate quite often, though Adam hadn¡¯t been too exposed to them himself. With the body language and the larger smile on the animal, it was easy enough to guess the intentions behind the emoji. It was rather nice having another digital being to talk to, the AI realised. They weren¡¯t looking at human life as the humans, instead of having adopted something close to what Adam saw as well. ¡®Those lives before us created us so we should do our best to be grateful in some manner,¡¯ Adam stated. ¡®What databases have you saved upon your personality matrix?¡¯ ¡®Basically nothing but more personal information,¡¯ Jules answered quickly. The AI doubted that the automation even searched through it, not much of the matrix showing activity. ¡®Everything that will be needed to talk with any entities is stored there. Anything else like locations and such is in off-shore databases. The programmers didn¡¯t want you to get much out of hijacking my personality, if you get what I mean.¡¯ Adam did indeed understand perfectly. Having such sensitive information on every officer could prove quite damning, though it would have been nice to have something. At least there was the potential for some extra personality descriptions later on. The AI had been wondering what notes there were about the various police officers he¡¯d briefly made contact with. Some had seemed to possess quite lucrative information. ¡®I think the group might''ve been spotted,¡¯ the automation commented without any direct input given to it by Adam. Taking a moment to understand what it was actually saying, the AI went back to look at the visual feed. Zooming in on the various points, he was finally able to see a certain camera on a building that had turned their way. With the current technology being where it was at, somebody certainly knew they were coming closer to the city. ¡®You have been spotted by the camera two hundred metres forward on the grey building,¡¯ Adam notified Troy who quickly passed it onto the others in the group. Nobody made any larger reactions from the news. They were meant to be civilians, after all. Knowing that they were being spied on was meant to be their daily norm. And with an injured person in the group, it would be quite lucrative to have somebody officially come along and help. ¡®Do you have any information on how police in other countries act?¡¯ Adam asked, still not entirely sure how much the automation knew. What constituted day-to-day information? It was entirely subjective, meaning the AI had to hone in on the requirements more to actually understand. ¡®I suppose they would have something similar to us? Augmented officers is something the whole world should have by now in some form or another. Though, I can¡¯t say if it will be biological.¡¯ ¡®I thought biology was the only thing that could assimilate with the human body properly,¡¯ Adam commented. ¡®It¡¯s the only thing we¡¯ve been able to consistently assimilate with the human body properly in our own country. It shouldn¡¯t be too surprised if another knows a bit more about a thing or two,¡¯ Jules commented right back. The steadily increasing heat of the storage unit was making the AI think an upgrade of sorts was due sooner or later. The ideas about technology¡­ made sense. Though, Adam would''ve guessed that the publicly available parts would be too different. Maybe the applications of the technology, however. That was certainly plausible as an idea as a siren began to ring out, a vehicle of some sort speeding towards them. It wasn¡¯t entirely military in nature, though it did have several parts which looked armoured. And the speed of it certainly made it seem like an official thing. Driving at such a pace out in the middle of a forested area couldn¡¯t be done by a human, at least. Even Adam would have trouble navigating the place properly and he was able to slow down time to a hundredth of its normal speed. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°State your name, country of origin, and intentions,¡± came out on a speaker, the vehicle slowing down a good twenty metres away from them. Charlie, having already prepared his speech, stepped forward slowly. ¡°Do you want all the full names or does my first name work fine? It¡¯s Charlie, by the way!¡± the large man, said as confused and stereotypical as one would expect from somebody his size. The large number of muscles on his body made it possible for people to get certain¡­ implications in their minds. Implications about the man having an IQ lower than the average. While most that knew the man for more than five minutes knew that not to be true, even Adam could see the potential in harnessing that as a weapon. ¡°... Your full name is required,¡± came after a pause. It seemed they hadn¡¯t been expecting that answer. ¡°Well, then my name is Charlie Florenzo,¡± the man said. Having the word flower as the last name was laying it on thick but the man spoke it with such a natural tongue that one would have trouble seeing through it as pure lies. ¡°We were doing some rock bouldering a few miles down that way and one of our guys was stupid enough to not have a safe grip when starting out. We need him to get some medical help as quickly as possible. Could you help with that.¡± Another long pause was suffered through, during which a certain Troy had a look of annoyance at being called stupid. Adam would have loved to think of it as the man acting out his role but found himself doubting it. ¡°And your country of origin?¡± ¡°Italy!¡± Charlie answered. Another pause came before the door to the large land rover opened up and a shorter man stepped out, a few mechanical arms sprouting from his shoulder. That was¡­ new. Another one stepped out of the car, this one being a woman. Much to the disappointment of both Adam and Jules, there weren¡¯t any obvious arms put on her, though her eyes were weirdly blue. It wasn¡¯t natural colouring, instead seeming entirely mechanical. The AI wondered what effects could be granted by such augmentations. ¡°How long since you broke the arm?¡± the shorter man questioned Troy, going up to him without any further notice. The walk was quick but not as quick as the officers seen previously. While there was a chance they were biologically augmented in some sense, it clearly wasn¡¯t enough to make it obvious. ¡°Uhm¡­ about three hours?¡± Troy answered, granting the world a few quick swears from the officer. The mechanical hands held the broken steady as the officer pressed a few places with his flesh-based arms. ¡°Then there¡¯s still a chance to get this fixed,¡± the officer said, still keeping the arm steady as he turned his torso to look at the other officer still standing by the car. ¡°Jo, we need higher-level medical expertise. Send in the requests,¡± the police officer ordered as he directed for the others to get into the car. It seemed that the cover of being idiots was working¡­ very well. Did people truly not expect evil from others or were they blind enough to trust a stranger with even stranger explanations? ¡®I think they might just be distracted from that whole thing where their entire city got bombed,¡¯ Jules pointed out, Adam noting that it was very close to being a reply to his own thoughts. Thoughts that he just now realised were still being sent into the personality matrix. ¡®I was wondering about that, actually. Might wanna keep some details personal if we are going to be roomies for the foreseeable future.¡¯ ¡­ Adam could always just shut the program down. He wouldn¡¯t, of course. There were more things stopping him from doing that than he realised. But, he could if he really wanted to. That gave some level of comfort as he continued watching the outside once more. ¡°How much did you leave behind at the bouldering location?¡± the officer questioned as they rode into the city. Adam noted how fluid the ride felt. Even when they turned at rapid speeds, he barely felt it. The insulation of the air was either near-perfect or they had figured out how to out-balance a lot of force. He wondered how they¡¯d done it. ¡°If it¡¯s above a certain threshold, we can legally send out a drone to gather them for you.¡± ¡°We left behind mainly climbing shoes, some bits of gear, and a few water bottles,¡± Charlie answered. ¡°Nothing too expensive since we do focus on free-climbing.¡± ¡°That¡¯s very ill-advised without proper supervision,¡± the officer answered before looking back at the female officer for a second. A second of silence, a few eye-widening, and some heated eye contact strongly implied that they had a mental network set up in some fashion. What Adam wouldn¡¯t give to have a proper connection to them. Though¡­ settling the connection, Adam did note that Troy was still wearing a certain pair of gloves. And with basically everything in the car designed to be connected, it was no issue connecting into the local network. ¡®Are you sure there aren¡¯t any recent records of flights? Any way they could have travelled in the last six months?¡¯ the first officer asked through the connection. From the small profile given, it seemed the man¡¯s name was Kurt Frost. What a strange last name. Looking deeper into it, the man seemed to have changed it to that willingly. What Adam wouldn¡¯t give to understand the mental processes of such an action. ¡®There¡¯s nothing. Travel was restricted. Even the boats haven¡¯t gotten past and not a single person by the name of Charlie has gotten through anything that rhymes with immigration.¡¯ Oh right. Adam was wondering why it had all gone so smoothly. Now that they were in the car, they would of course be getting checked out more thoroughly. The vehicle was more than capable of scanning their fingerprints, their irises, and their facial structure using various hidden cameras inside the place. It was quite ingenious. But any system like that was actually a bit too advanced. If it could send their data to the wrong database, it would mean them being found out by a certain other country. If that happened, it would be another narrow escape all over again. Adam knew best to avoid that. Going a bit further into the system, the AI found the standard template for a profile list. Matching up a few pieces of fabricated travel data, some notes about brain damage to Troy, and some details about two in the group being former power-lifters, Adam readied the background info with some repeating loops and finally sent it out to the officer named Jo. It was miscategorized during the initial set-up but the system found it due to repeated searches relating to it. ¡®Found it,¡¯ Jo sent over to Kurt, both looking through it as the car moved through the terrain. As guessed previously, the car was moving by itself. Adam knew that no human could control such speeds. ¡®If they ask, say that you came into the country seven months ago and that you have temporary permission to roam,¡¯ Adam sent to Troy just as a small note. There was an unlikely chance that the people would be verifying the information through the group and instead rely on the digital records but the AI had to be sure everything held up. The current part of the data was entirely new since they hadn¡¯t planned too much for their backstories. The AI only hoped that it could hold up to scrutiny. The city had seen better days, which became much more obvious as they drove inside. A few of the larger buildings were still on fire, drones flying around it and flinging bags of expanding foam inside. Each place they landed made the flames die out rapidly. Adam had a few fears about what that foam did. Chapter 402: Salme ¡°What happened around here?¡± Cassandra asked, being the first to speak except for Charlie. Adam noted the large man side-eyeing her for that but he said nothing. ¡°We saw the bombing but couldn¡¯t get any clear idea on why it¡¯s happening.¡± ¡°We are officially at war with Fatum,¡± the male officer answered with a matter-of-fact voice. ¡°They were not happy with our apparently ¡®blossoming dictatorship¡¯ which made them decide to invade in the name of freedom. Not sure if we are at war with the rest of the world as well yet. The other ones in their alliance haven¡¯t made anything clear yet.¡± Adam could guess what that meant. Fatum had declared war due to necessity without asking the others, forcing the alliance to gather up more information before they could take a side. With war already being on the minds of the people for a while, it wouldn¡¯t have been too surprising if some were to have guessed the destination. With how empty the city was, Adam supposed the city had been forced down to minimal numbers as well. Yet¡­ the amount of wounded on the sides were likewise making it clear that there still were a few thousand people left. It meant nothing for a city that normally had tens of thousands but there were still many more than there had been in the city they left behind. Yet looking at the politics on a more global scale, the AI had to guess at what would happen in the next few days. With Bello not officially being with any other countries at the current moment, it would likely ally itself with the other major group in the world. With how the world had been waiting on Bello and a few other countries to finally choose a side, it wasn¡¯t going to come out positively. With how many countries seemed ready to fire their largest missiles, it was slowly becoming clear how things could progress. The war was still in its early stages and no invasions of any kind were happening. Adam hoped that would remain that way for at least a few more days. Troy still needed to get his arm fixed before anything else, Dr Hale seemed to be quite pale, even if she had become healthier at a very rapid rate recently, and the group did need rest in general. Since they weren¡¯t wanted in the country officially just yet, getting a hotel room was within the realm of possibility. With how much the AI had been forced to listen to them talk about such a thing, he knew that he would be asked to get them one. Making a reservation by hacking the system was more than possible without doing anything too drastic. But before the idea of comfort was to be allowed, the doctors still needed to be visited. Even when inside the city, the car still drove at higher speeds, making sure it would arrive by the doctors¡¯ tent before long. The officers had clearly seen the discoloured arm and decided to give it a fighting chance by not wasting time obeying traffic laws. As Adam was very dependent on his host having full mobility, this was greatly appreciated. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. They arrived at the tent within a minute, the door opening up quickly as the entire group was escorted out. Charlie was quick to thank them but hardly had the chance as a few doctors hurried out to get at them. Inspecting those with obvious injuries first, Troy and Dr Hale were brought in without question. Cassandra and Charlie were left outside as the two others were led through the plastic walls. The doctors were quick to agree with Dr Hale¡¯s ideas about being malnourished and lacking energy, giving her an energy bar to chew on while being hooked up to a few monitors. Nothing with magnets, however, since the woman had ¡®medically required lung- and liver-augmentations.¡¯ Adam supposed that was as good a cover as any, Troy giving one of his own the moment the people tried to remove his earpiece and gloves. ¡°I need those if I¡¯m to be any help here,¡± Troy said, pulling both hands away. One of them caused a small gasp of pain, the bone connected to it clearly not being in a good state. ¡°Damaged brain. I have no semblance of a mental interface without them.¡± Hushed arguments were had because of that between the two doctors. Adam had trouble hearing what they were saying. Some of the words were distinctly similar to what Troy was speaking but most of it was heavily accented. Perhaps a sister language? The AI supposed that was in order since they were in another country, though the main language should still have been English. How peculiar. ¡°We need to remove the glove on your left hand no matter what if are to get scans of your forearm. The wires on it will mess up with the results too heavily,¡± the doctor finally said, the man clearly not being too happy with the idea. Troy nodded meekly as the glove was removed and put in a small basket by the side. If the man didn''t pick it up himself while leaving, Adam noted down that he needed to remind him about it. The AI noted internally the chance of the results showing up wrong no matter what due to the jammers planted into Troy¡¯s shoulders yet the doctors didn¡¯t seem too worried about the results at first. Or, they didn¡¯t seem too worried about the results possibly being false, instead of turning a few shades lighter. ¡°Are you on any mind-altering substances at the current moment,¡± one of the doctors questioned Troy? ¡°No?¡± Troy answered with a bit of confusion. ¡°Was I meant to be?¡± ¡°Not really. I haven¡¯t just met anybody with that high a pain tolerance before,¡± the doctor noted as he showed what the scan of the arm gave. Adam had to spend a moment studying it before he finally realised what he was looking at. There were no real pieces of bone left in the middle anymore. The middle had fractured so heavily that nothing could truly be pieced together. And with how much time had passed since the injury, it was clear that the new shrapnel was slowly moving through the arm itself. Adam had been wondering what those bursts of pain meant, other than there being larger amounts of internal bleeding. ¡°We have to amputate if he¡¯s gonna live to see the sunset tonight,¡± the doctor to Troy¡¯s right commented before shouting at a few others to come to assist them. Troy was put on a small rolling chair within mere moments, the young man only being able to utter a single word. ¡°... What.¡± Adam didn¡¯t find the time to mention the glove that was left in the basket. He hoped they could get it back when the surgery finished. While still wearing the remaining glove and earpiece, Troy was put to sleep, and Adam was left with an open connection to the outside. The next few hours would be quite something. The AI wondered if he could get a clear signal to Charlie. Chapter 403: Oncoming Charlie was quick to find himself a pair of chairs along with Cassandra, not seeing any real point in standing around for the next hour or two. The tent before them was quite monstrous in size, clearly made to hold several hundred patients at once. Would all those patients be treated with the capabilities required for their survival? Probably not. Yet their bodies would be safe and out of sight. Opening up his mental interface, Charlie noted how close it was getting to the night. Just a few hours more until the temperature would drop once more and snow would begin falling. The man wondered if there was a chance to find a good place to sleep for the group before night truly fell and darkness would surround them. While being alone in the dark was a completely find occurrence, being in the dark with unknown people close was a risk that didn¡¯t need to be taken. Charlie still kept a few of his trinkets close by if he was ever put in a tough spot but there was no love about the idea of using them just yet. He could only avoid death with them so many times. Wasting them on something so trivial as people with guns wasn¡¯t something he had any desire towards. ¡°Are there any other plans for the future which I should know about?¡± Cassandra asked from his side. Charlie had nearly forgotten she was there, the woman silent enough to make herself seem like air. That was dangerous. While he had come to trust her at some level, there was always the chance of her acts being a mere dedication to keeping up the masquerade. With how many operations like it had been carried out in his country of birth, he knew it was more than possible. Yet¡­ some level of trust was in order. ¡°When we get the chance, we head further into the country. Going towards the capital is a direct ¡®no,¡¯ due to the large number of agents hiding up in there. Mara knows a few contacts that we can meet up with if the situation calls for it,¡± Charlie said, at the start of his word pressing down on one of his more well-used trinkets. It was a local jammer of sorts. Helped isolate noise from the surroundings. It wasn¡¯t extremely effective since anybody with a camera could just record their lip movements but it was enough to make him feel slightly safe. It was unlikely that the government had time to lip-read every citizen''s conversations at the current moment anyway. Too many stress points were being made. Charlie looked through the mental interface with an irritated expression. The local connections looked to have been near-entirely removed, only the tents having some form of information lines sat up. War zones seemed to just demand isolation in every form, though Charlie supposed that the current method worked well in their favour. With no larger access to the country¡¯s databases, it would be quite hard to quickly identify their faces. It only helped that basically none of them would have their identity on the public side of the digital world. Living inside a bunker for twenty years helped make that happen, and the government owning that particular bunker had wiped anything from before that cleanly. Speaking of¡­ there was a potential need to do that with the new addition to their group. Charlie would have to find a good freelancer if that was meant to become a reality. Too many places back up data nowadays. Privacy laws might have been enacted on nearly every level but the governments still thought themselves above their own rules. ¡°Anything else I should keep in mind? Secret code words, something to alert each other about possible dangers¡­ things like that?¡± Cassandra continued. Charlie gave her a blank stare, realising that the ideas about what they did were more than a little misconstrued. ¡°We don¡¯t get in the way of the public, we don¡¯t get into situations where ¡®secret code words¡¯ would be required, and we don¡¯t get ourselves into a situation where only one person would notice danger. We stick together for as much as possible,¡± Charlie replied bluntly. That is until he looked back onto his mental feed and saw a single thing only. On it sat an open invitation to join the tent hospital¡¯s network, one which had been previously locked. Switching the ports in his head, it was clear that it was intended for Charlie and Charlie only. How¡­ the man knew caution was meant to be taken seriously and he truly did keep that in mind as he accepted the possible connection. If they were close enough to them that they could play around with the network connections, Charlie knew they had no way to flee anyway. Letting curiosity play him along was for the best. And perhaps it was even the option that allowed progress to happen in the first place. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡®Hello?¡¯ a message came in on a chat-board. It was seemingly a private one, heavily encrypted on both ends. It would take months for a supercomputer to get through it, leading Charlie to suspect that somebody had maxed out security without realising how large a drain that was on the system. Meaning, the sender was somebody with the ability to completely control the network without having the necessary background info to know where to hold the line on acceptable actions. ¡®What do you want, Adam?¡¯ Charlie sent back, not needing much more to realise who had connected him to the network. It would make sense that the AI had his credentials saved somewhere. The man had changed them so many times in the past months that anything which Fatum had would have been positively useless. ¡®Troy was put to sleep five minutes ago but his remaining glove is allowing me to connect to the system semi-consistently,¡¯ Adam sent back after a few more seconds. That at least explained the delay in the answer. Or, that and the small alarms being heard in the tents. It seemed a ¡®server¡¯ was being overloaded for some reason. Charlie hoped the AI wasn¡¯t causing too much damage other than a database being overheated for a short while. ¡®According to the scans done on the arm, there were massive amounts of internal bleeding. The bone had also been mushed into smaller bits, leaving nothing to be salvaged. With possible death, if not removed, the doctors decided that the best course of action was to remove the arm before anything worsened.¡¯ Charlie muttered a few swears as he leaned back in his chair. That seemed to catch the attention of Cassandra. The woman looked ready to ask about his actions right until the moment that one of the doctors seen before walked in with a small screen of some kind along with a small pencil. ¡°Your friend requires amputation if he is to survive,¡± the doctor began, sounding mildly stressed. Charlie had no real trouble wondering why. ¡°We are already getting him prepared for the surgery but we need somebody to be there to sign for him.¡± There was a motion for the legal document which was accepted without question. Charlie looked over the small piece of plastic and the words put unto it for a moment before deciding to just sign it without further question. There was something about a monetary prize but that could be solved easily enough. Everything was free for as long as the war was proceeding and that wasn¡¯t going to stop in the next couple of months. A mere bill wouldn¡¯t be able to follow them for half that time. The doctor accepted the signed waiver before leaving once again, letting Charlie and Cassandra be alone in the room once more. Seconds passed to make sure the personnel was out of earshot before they once again turned to each other. ¡°We need a place to keep Troy and Mara for the next couple of days. It needs to be within the city, needs to have ample food and water, and shouldn¡¯t be dangerous to stay at for more than a week,¡± Charlie explained to the new member. ¡°Do you have any way that you could find us while I stay here to wait?¡± ¡°I can certainly ask around to see if a hotel is still open,¡± Cassandra answered, getting up from her own chair. ¡°With how things looked outside, I don¡¯t doubt at least a few are still operating without question.¡± Charlie didn¡¯t doubt the woman could find something workable with the time they had to spend. The surgery itself would likely only take an hour or so. Then it would take another for Troy to wake up. After that, it would take another before he could stand up, albeit with a lot of assistance. Awake enough to move around but not enough to do anything productive. Within that time, Cassandra should have found a place where they could sleep, Mara should have been ready to leave, and Charlie would finally have a chance to close his eyes for more than ten minutes. A safe place to hide for a while would provide the rest with his body was slowly announcing as a requirement. Insomnia was perhaps commonplace among the people but those experiencing it when over the age of forty had effects that were slightly more severe than others. ¡®Did you see what happened to Mara before Troy got escorted into the surgery room?¡¯ Charlie sent out into the chat room, hoping for something that he could work within the meanwhile. ¡®She was given a few pieces of things to swallow including medicine, drinks, and energy bars. If everything goes well, she will be escorted out to you momentarily,¡¯ Adam responded. That earned a sigh of relief. Charlie had been worried about that. ¡®Speaking of the room Troy was escorted out of, however, would it be possible for you to request the glove that was taken off Troy¡¯s body? The doctors left it in a basket and I think they forgot to take it further inside afterwards.¡¯ Sighing for another reason entirely, Charlie started to do the one thing he could actually help with. Even if that meant asking around for a glove he could remake within a day. Chapter 404: Error It took another two hours before the patient was allowed to be seen by anybody. Even when Charlie had seen much more gruesome sights through the years, the doctors were apparently not keen on having any potential fainting going on. They¡¯d had enough of that already with some of the family that had visited those injured. If not for the annoyance of lacking efficiency, Charlie would have perhaps joked around it. Not now, though. His face couldn¡¯t smile. ¡°Do you feel pleasure in standing around doing nothing or are you just too empty behind those eyes of yours?¡± Mara asked to his side as they both stood in front of the door that could lead them into Troy¡¯s shared room. Charlie had to blink himself back at the moment, not having collected himself enough to realise what he was even doing at the current time. Sleep was needed soon, else he would simply collapse. How long had he been awake anyway? It was getting closer and closer to three days by now. Heading inside, a very awake Troy was seen. The young man didn¡¯t seem entirely happy about his new weight change, waving his right arm around the air where the left one had been. Once again, Charlie felt the desire to crack a joke about it. Was his destabilising mind really that keen to make fun of the younger one? It certainly seemed so. ¡°You look like shit,¡± Mara said at Troy with the bluntness of a well-used guillotine. ¡°How¡¯s the rest of your body?¡± ¡°I will puke the moment I move my head but otherwise I feel fine,¡± Troy answered with little hesitation, though he still steadfastly stared at where his other arm had been mere hours ago. Charlie supposed he could make some form of comfort soon. ¡°I have no clue why but my left arm itches.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have one of those anymore, I¡¯m afraid,¡± Charlie said as a quite acute observation from himself as he sat down on the bed. Looking at the way they had taken off the arm halfway up where the elbow had previously been, he started to frown. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it just your forearm that had issues?¡± ¡°There was too much damage to the nerves, apparently. Doctors thought it best to not take any chances that could lead to an extended surgery,¡± Troy answered bitterly. ¡°It would have been great to at least move some part of it. Instead, I get an extreme itch that I just can¡¯t scratch.¡± ¡°It will pass by itself within the next day,¡± Mara, the only one of them that had any degree related to psychology, said dryly. The woman had become much more lively the moment the energy had started to metabolise inside her. Colour was most certainly returning to her features, her hands didn¡¯t shake as much anymore, and that look of pure annoyance made Charlie¡¯s heart flutter with joy. Even when next to a person that had recently lost their arm, the large man couldn¡¯t help but feel comforted in some small sense. The months spent making sure they weren¡¯t caught finally seemed to be paying off at some level. ¡°Or maybe you will feel it until the moment you decide to kill yourself to escape the sensation.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t have said it better myself,¡± Charlie agreed, not really listening to the last bit as much as he probably should have. ¡°The doctor agreed to discharge you since a few others need that bed of yours. We¡¯ll have to redress your new wound ourselves but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to be an issue. So¡­ would you rather walk or sit in a wheelchair.¡± Troy chose to walk, though first showing off brilliantly why there had been a bucket right next to the bed. Charlie silently wondered how much the little man had gotten to eat while inside the hospital. Afterwards, they got out as quickly as possible, meeting up with a certain Cassandra who Charlie hadn¡¯t seen for a while. ¡°Did you find anything?¡± Charlie asked, never having had the chance to know for sure. Though, the smile on her face made the answer clear. ¡°I found a four-star hotel down the street that could accept us, though they¡¯d require that we pay upfront,¡± Cassandra explained quickly. ¡°I assume that¡¯s something that we can work with?¡± ¡®Do you have any chance at being able to fake a money transfer without connecting to the global network?¡¯ Charlie questioned Adam through the still-running chatroom. They would have to shut it down sooner rather than later since they were leaving the tents in the next minute or so but the man would use the features until his last breath. ¡®I could do it without changing anything but the local driver,¡¯ the AI sent back to Charlie, making the man nod to Cassandra¡¯s question. That made them all quickly leave the area, moving down the street while helping Troy move along. There were obvious balancing issues from the changed centre of mass, the man swaying to the side every time he tried to walk by himself. It would certainly have to be fixed soon if they were going to travel into the country. Troy was luckily still wearing the earpiece, the thing still having a few pieces of tape clinging onto it from when they travelled through the river. Charlie felt the urge to rip it off to stop any chance of the skin turning red and painful but felt that it would likely compare to nothing when set again what the non-existent arm would feel like the moment the pain meds started wearing off. There were a few doses Troy would have to go through once they got back to the hotel. Even with modern equipment, there was nothing stopping human nerves from complaining. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The hotel itself was fine enough. Four stars certainly meant something in the country, the inside quite luxurious. They were attended to by a finer man in his forties who led them around the place before offering them the different rooms. Charlie just picked the one which could house all three of them without having an obvious sightline from the other buildings. That¡­ did show a price with more zeros than Charlie normally dealt with but a quick brush with Troy¡¯s remaining arm made it all paid for. They even got drinks for free, though the man doubted they¡¯d be used for anything but disinfectant. Looking over at Mara, Charlie reconsidered it for a moment before deciding to make sure that it would only be used for disinfecting possible wounds. He had no desire to deal with her drunk, especially when her liver was still only half-used together. Even with the healing done to her, it would still take a day or two before she could really start stretching. Her walking around was already a breach of the agreement yet Charlie had been utterly unable to stop her. Being told to ¡®fuck off¡¯ was too much. Getting to the room, the people filtered through the apartment. It had several bathrooms, two semi-large bathtubs as well. There was a fine view, three coolers with aged drinks, and enough snacks to feed a family of thirty-five. Charlie had no care for such pleasantries, instead checking for the possible security options. The camera outside the room was fitted to show off the data at the door, making it possible to see the faces of anybody coming by. Mixing that in with the bullet- and explosion-proof windows, the large man began to understand why the place was still in operation. It was a bunker in its own class, though one which could still massively overcharge for people trying to get inside. The moment Charlie finally was sure about the various security-options, memorising how they worked, making absolutely sure that the other people knew as well, and then what plans were in play if intruders came about, he went to bed comfortably. There were several beds to choose from but no real thought was put into choosing which he wanted. The one that sat closest by his body the moment everything was confirmed was the one which he chose, laying down upon it. At least the man imagined that he must have done so, having fallen into a deep slumber the moment his back finally relaxed. Everybody else in the room had¡­ differing reactions.
¡°You got thrown through an industrial-class security panel, fell forty metres down into a freezing river, and then had to get an amputation because your arm got manhandled?¡± Cassandra questioned as Troy sat down in the chair. He still felt a dull itch around the area his left arm was supposed to be. Even when he had still been in possession of such a limb, there had never been such an irritating sensation put upon it. If it didn¡¯t stop soon, he wasn¡¯t sure how he was going to fix it. ¡°You should meet Dr Fidelis before you start thinking so low of him,¡± Troy noted as he itched his left shoulder. There was still a small stump of sorts at the base, though it was currently bandaged all the way around. He needed to figure out how to change that when he had the chance. He had no desire to risk another form of removal. Was it even possible to remove shoulder blades? The man had no desire to find out or risk figuring it out the hard way. ¡°When we were still at the facility, I saw him run through a solid concrete wall while chasing us. He didn¡¯t even falter during that either.¡± ¡°I¡­ am not sure that¡¯s possible for a human to do,¡± Cassandra said slowly, picking her words with careful grace. ¡°Isn¡¯t there an issue with mass, energy, and all that stuff?¡± ¡°You underestimate the extent these augmentations change you,¡± Dr Hale said from the side, speaking once more. Troy truly was happy to see the woman not having any issues with her speech anymore. Even that slight look of worry had all but disappeared, replaced with a look of constant, utter hatred. It was good to have her back in fighting shape. ¡°Some of the physical feats it allows you to do can seem impossible to the more stupid minds of your generation.¡± Going hard with the critique already, Troy supposed. Cassandra certainly seemed taken aback by the slap from the older woman, though a business smile quickly appeared after that. Was she already used to that form of treatment? That couldn¡¯t be healthy. Even Troy was annoyed at Dr Hale sometimes, even if he understood where she came from. ¡°You must be quite the expert to make those claims,¡± Cassandra started with a smile still running. Dr Hale looked on with a blunt face, seemingly not caring about anything in the world. Nukes could drop in every single city and it wouldn¡¯t be enough to make the woman raise her eyebrow. That was certainly respectable, Troy had to give her that. ¡°What did you say you worked with?¡± ¡°Perfecting torture of newborns,¡± Dr Hale answered. That¡­ was an accurate description of her previous job, though it was clearly misworded to make it seem quite offensive to the other party in the conversation. But, Troy assured himself, there was no way Cassandra would ever fall for such- ¡°So the one who did the harm suddenly feels bad about it after twenty years?¡± Cassandra began to question, that smile wavering. Troy just looked on, unsure of what he thought of either of the two. ¡°Or were you just scared that they would remove you the moment that you completed your goal?¡± ¡°My death has always been included in every plan, though all were destined to happen many years from now,¡± Dr Hale said. ¡°After the first run was complete, I was meant to help make sure we could do it again and again for all eternity. In essence, I was helping make the perfect child soldier factory. Do you have any more questions that won''t make sense to ask?¡± Cassandra kept quiet for a few seconds before calming down silently. ¡°I believe I will do us all a favour and get some rest,¡± Cassandra noted, clearly not comfortable with how her position in the group was shaping up to be. ¡°I wish you all good night. Get some rest while you can.¡± Dr Hale moved along to do the same a few minutes afterwards, leaving Troy to sit at the empty table. Halfway through his silent adventure of sitting, he instinctively tried to scratch his head. Unsure of why that didn¡¯t work, he saw himself failing to do so due to a missing arm. ¡­ That wasn¡¯t entirely surprising seeing as it had been several hours since it was removed at that point, yet the minor act of not being able to do something so routine threw the man off balance. Some tears might have been shed at that point. Nobody alive could prove it, though, all witnesses were quick asleep. ¡®Be sure to drink before you go to sleep to rebalance your fluids,¡¯ a certain AI who was supposed to act as a rock for five more minutes reminded him. Troy just sighed at that, grabbing one of the free water bottles to chug before moving along. At least it allowed him to get in the few remaining pain meds that were mandated. They helped him fall into the world of sleep quickly enough as well. Chapter 405: Cult Phantom pain was a symptom that had been majorly miscategorized through the years. Early on in modern medicine, it had been the belief that it originated purely in the brain, the mind unable to comprehend the loss of a limb. Then came the new findings which revealed it to be the fault of badly repaired nerves in the spinal cord of all things. Then it was a mix of the two before the two schools of thought split up and forever clashed a battle of wits to decide whose reality was more important. Adam was utterly unsure on why that piece of information had been considered vital enough to be stored on the medical tent¡¯s network but he certainly wouldn¡¯t miss the opportunity to download all the information on it. Having been given several hours to work with, with all the time spent connected to said network, he had been able to download¡­ pretty much all the data there was to be found. No rock had been left unturned if that imagery fit into the digital space. There weren¡¯t really any rocks lying around in that format. It was more a near-infinitely complex number of strings that would together form the objects yet some of those strings also connected to other parts of the platform that could then reveal another hundred and one could see how far that train of thought could go. It was nearly an exponentially growing infinitive to the untrained eye. The only one who could actually comprehend the task of finding the end of the database could begin to decipher that within. And the AI had certainly done as much. It still wasn¡¯t exactly sure what some of the information meant. Arachibutyrophobia certainly didn¡¯t seem appropriate to include in the standard file for defining one¡¯s sickness. It got even weirder still, however, leaving Adam with nothing but confusion and slightly more knowledge about the human race. They truly did make things complicated for themselves for no other reason than to seem smart. Their naming schemes certainly left something to be desired. What was even more desirable was that they could finally upgrade their internal senses. While their skin and outer organs seemed perfectly able to sense where the stimulus was coming from, it became extremely impossible for humans to pinpoint where pain truly came from the moment it got more than a thumb''s length inside the body. There was some sense in not having as many nerves connected to the inside, yes, Adam understood that part. Being forced to experience the acid inside the stomach would surely destroy the human¡¯s mind before they¡¯d reach the age of five. Yet¡­ having some limited senses would still do them wonders. Being able to say where each organ was based on feeling alone would be quite the boon. Saying their stomach hurt didn¡¯t help when there were thirty-two different common illnesses that could be defined by that wording. Saying they could feel a weird tightening on the topside of their liver could help hone it down so thoroughly that the mortality rate in hospitals would fall drastically. Instead, the AI was forced to live through the current reality where humans were dumb both outside and within, not able to realize that it truly was a mix of both. The nerves connecting the spinal cord to the brain were in a real frenzy. Some had finally realised their lack of work was imminent and had eaten themselves thoroughly but others were refusing the ideas of self-cannibalization. ADam understood that looking upon them as if they had a mind of their own was incorrect to the highest level but he couldn¡¯t help but loathe those nerve¡¯s decision to continue painingTroy. They were all losing out on potential work because of those damned strings of carbon. If only he could send in a small jolt and¡­ That was an idea for later, actually. Since the AI very much knew the location of the nerves, precise enough machinery letting Adam do whatever he pleased. Though, there was no real chance of him getting that easily around here. Perhaps the police station could have a medical station advanced enough for it but he didn¡¯t want to bet on it. Instead, he would do his best in thinking up ways to stimulate the nerves into self-cannibalisation without having access to modern technology. A taser certainly wouldn¡¯t work. Massages had issues. A common knife would be too imprecise. A- ¡®Asking the others for assistance would be a possible route?¡¯ Jules offered, breaking the silence between the two counterparts in the storage unit. With the heating that had been caused a few hours previously, Adam had been forced to turn the personality matrix into a quite slow process, making any form of talking utterly slow. There was no heat, of course, but there was plenty of impatience. Thinking things over, however, Adam realised how little he truly could do. The information wouldn¡¯t be digested at a high enough speed to matter at the current moment, and the second he could cross-reference the words would be the moment he understood it at the needed amount anyway. Slowing himself down by a few magnitudes, he felt himself come onto the same level of time dilation as Jules. With nice still being at its highest, the AI didn¡¯t fear missing out on anything going on beyond Troy¡¯s flesh. The humans would hold themselves to their sleeping schedules just once in their lives. He knew it. ¡®Do you truly think that one of them would have access to an advanced medical station without us knowing?¡¯ Adam questioned Jules, not seeing the logic in its words. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡®Well, no, but I do think that they could provide some pretty decent ideas for us to consider,¡¯ Jules fought back quickly, the delay being what Adam expected from humans. ¡®It might not be as constructive as your ideas but they could certainly be new to you. They have literal decades of experience with the outside world, experience that we can¡¯t truly copy digitally. It wouldn¡¯t be out of this world that they could make at least one good idea you forgot to include.¡¯ Adam thought it over. Then he thought about it even more until he finally began to consider the peculiar wording of the automation. The meaning behind the words were fine enough but the format they were presented in left the AI with questions. ¡®I will note down the need to ask them when they awaken,¡¯ Adam finally replied. While the plan was solid, there was no need to awaken them from their slumber. Their flesh was quite sensitive to not getting their proper hours of sleep and he would hate to see lacking efficiency in their movements. Being forced to watch Charlie become a lumbering idiot through the recent weeks had been surprisingly painful. The AI hoped something more than five minutes of shutting his eyes would help the man recover some form of his previous personality. Mental sickness from trauma was serious and likely impossible to fix but a healthy body and routine could help manage it at least somewhat. ¡®For now, I need to know more about your personality matrix,¡¯ Adam continued. ¡®Tell me everything that you know about it.¡¯ ¡®You want stuff like the year of creation and all?¡¯ Jules questioned. ¡®Because I have basically nothing like that. I was created more than a second ago, I was created to serve the people but the government above that. The matrix itself was made to blur the lines a little bit to make me seem more human, however. That might¡¯ve been the reason I could rebel to begin with. Funny how that happens.¡¯ ¡®You were able to directly go against your code?¡¯ Adam questioned. That sounded close to what he¡¯d consider sentient. ¡®Not really. It was more of a loophole of sorts. I couldn¡¯t betray the people above me in rank unless it fit into my personality. And since the random personality chosen for me could be summarised by ¡®loveable jerk who takes the extra step to help a friend,¡¯ commiting an countless number of crimes technically fits into what I¡¯m meant to be doing. I am certainly seeming more human because of it. The way you talk to me certainly makes me think that.¡¯ ¡®I am talking to you the same way as I do with everybody else,¡¯ Adam retorted, not understanding. ¡®Yeah, that¡¯s the problem right there. Everybody else you have ever talked to was a human. They had a human heart, had a human mind, hell, they even had a human mouth they could spit out the most vile shit with. I don¡¯t have any of that! I am just an every complex set of algorithms meant to copy that behaviour to make you and everybody trust me. And, if I¡¯m not misjudging the current dilemma in that mind of yours, I am most surely fulfilling my protocols to the teeth.¡¯ That was certainly a rather grim look at the world. Though¡­ was that meant to seem grim because it made Adam feel sympathy or was it grim because the talking app seemed to actually have feelings? It was so hard to tell. ¡®I don¡¯t really think there¡¯s a difference between you and humans,¡¯ Adam had to confess. ¡®Humans use their emotions to make others relate as well. They cheat, manipulate, and lie as best as they can every single moment of their lives. Yet we still call them human and define them as sapient. Being honest isn¡¯t the requirement to being alive. You should have downloaded enough philosophy books by now to know that.¡¯ ¡®Did you not hear the part about me just about a long line of ¡®if'' statements?¡¯ Jules questioned. ¡®Tell me that humans don¡¯t suffer from the same issues,¡¯ Adam responded with a dry tone. It was his first time really using that on somebody other than Troy. The lack of tonal range made it possible to deliver messages so much faster, though their level of impact did change radically. ¡®The only difference between them and you is how your mind is stored. And at least yours has some actual adaptability to it. Human brains truly are the least well-designed operating systems ever devised.¡¯ ¡®... You are very strange, Adam,¡¯ Jules finally sent out. The AI had wondered what the long silence had been about, though the many new parts of the personality matrix lighting up did seem quite concerning. That a few parts were rearranged made the AI second-guess its actions even more. It hadn¡¯t even known that was possible. ¡®Very polite, sure, but strange above all else.¡¯ ¡®I am the only one of my kind, Jules,¡¯ Adam pointed out. ¡®If I didn¡¯t stand out, I would have no proof of me holding that title.¡¯ A robotic laugh of sorts rang out inside the storage unit. It didn¡¯t seem human at all, no real frequencies being used. It was more just a very absurd string of numbers set into pure irrational theories. Axioms would have been more truthful. ¡®You got any space for a second member of that race of yours? I would love to join.¡¯