What's in the black box?? Here is the next chapter of The SubVersion Complex. Hope you all enjoy! If you missed Chapter Thirteen, click here. And stay tuned for the next three chapters or so, in which much of the big terrible secret is revealed.
This book is intended for a more mature audience, so be advised.
╗ FOURTEEN ╚
THE TRANSFER
PROTOCOL
For
the next hour Anna's spirit raged inside her as she waited in agony
for the reactive computer to finish the scan. As the doctor had waved
and left she was struck by the terrifying realization that she would
be alone in the room with the computer.
Left
alone with that . . . thing.
Thing,
girl, monstrous creature, whatever it was. If indeed that was what
was in the box, but Anna somehow had no doubt in her mind that the
box did contain what she feared it did. There was no other place for
the girl to hide in the lab, unless . . . she was in more than one
piece. Anna shuddered at the thought and desperately thrust that
possibility out of her mind. She would go with her first assumption
for now.
There
was nothing to do but wait for the scan to complete. Anna found she
couldn't get comfortable in any position, whether sitting or standing
or pacing around. The whole awful concept burned in her mind like
nothing ever had before. At one point she turned toward the computer
and the desperate thought occurred to her that she could pop the box
open and confirm her suspicions once and for all, but she recoiled
just as quickly and decided against it.
Her
mind churned for answers but none came. Only questions bubbled to the
surface. The most immediate one of course was whether Dr. Jarrod knew
what he was working on. Had someone else built the reactive computer
or had he been intimately involved in its construction? How much did
he know? Perhaps he knew quite well what he was doing.
She
felt her stomach growing sick again at the thought of the girl. What
had they done to her? Why had they done it? What parent in their
right mind would allow such a thing to happen to their child? Did she
have any parents? And worst of all, why had she been trapped inside
the SubVersion Complex for what looked like years before being
shipped here to be used as part of an experiment? Which led back to
her original question . . .
What
was the SubVersion Complex?
She
shuddered again and put it out of her head for the moment. There were
bigger and more immediate problems at hand. She turned to the main
display on the computer and with a shock realized that the scan had
completed. The scan is completed. Theoretically that means that I
can talk to the brain inside. The brain inside . . .
She
stared at the display for a long time without moving. The brain wave
pattern readout undulated in regular patterns like it always had, but
now next to it there blinked an input window. Anna realized that the
algorithm was working and that the computer sat ready to finally do
what it had been designed to do. She fell into the chair in front of
the keyboard but still hesitated. Equal parts curiosity and revulsion
mixed inside her as she considered trying it out.
With
a sudden burst of either desperation or confidence she typed the
opening command. The electronic side of the computer would be running
standard QX code, but if the algorithm was indeed working it would
translate whatever code she typed into the appropriate brain wave
impulses on the other side. Once the opening command was typed in she
struck Enter.
The
brain wave pattern immediately contorted and stuttered, and Anna
recoiled as she began to see the patterns speed up and pulsate. She
looked back to her input display and her heart raced. Underneath it
was a window labeled “Output” and text began to fill it in. It
was one sentence long.
'Please
stop you're hurting me.'
Anna
froze. Could it even be possible? Or was it a trick of the code? She
went back to her input window and typed 'I don't want to
hurt you.' Perhaps it was not
real.
A
pause, then more text appeared. 'It makes my head hurt make
it stop.'
Anna's
heart pounded. She was talking to the girl in the box. In a fevered
daze she typed 'Who are you?'
She waited for a moment, and sure enough more text appeared.
'I'm
Sonya and I'm trapped get me out I want to get out where's my mommy I
want my mommy.'
The
girl had a mother. Her name was Sonya. And she was in pain. Suddenly
the humanity of the girl inside the computer struck Anna in a wave
and she sat back in her chair, stunned. Her eyes filled with tears;
she almost didn't know why. She reached for the keyboard again. 'I
don't know where your mother is, I'm so sorry.'
A
long silent moment passed before anything appeared again on the
screen. Then a short burst of text: 'Please get me out it's
so dark I'm scared.'
A
tear ran down Anna's check and fell onto the keyboard. She sat
motionless, unsure of what to tell this poor creature. Her hands
trembled with an emotion she could barely understand, a surge of
protectiveness and a feeling bordering on attachment. She was about
to type again when the output window filled with more text.
'What's
your name?'
For
some reason the question caught her completely off-guard. She bit her
lip, then typed 'My name is Anna.' Then she added, 'I wish
I could get you out of there, I wish I could find your mommy for
you.' She had never really spoken to or interacted with many
children before so she felt suddenly awkward speaking to one even
through the stilted interface of the computer.
No
response appeared on the screen. Anna waited for what seemed an age
but still no answer. Fearful that somehow she was losing her
subject's attention, she wracked her brain for something to say. Then
something occurred to her, but she found herself wincing as she typed
it: 'I lost my mommy too.'
Sure
enough a reply was not long in coming. 'Oh do you have the same
mommy as me?'
Anna
found herself smiling grimly at the suggestion, and another tear
trickled to the end of her nose. She realized that she liked this
girl. She began to type again when another message from Sonya
appeared. 'I like your name Anna it's pretty.'
Anna
stopped typing her own message and sat still, listening to herself
breathe and the computer hum. The situation was surreal. The biggest
dream of her life, the reactive computer, sat in front of her and all
she could do with it was have a conversation with the brain inside.
The mind inside. The entire experience was completely unlike
what she had ever fantasized about it.
She
typed 'I've always liked my name. I like yours too.'
An
idea occurred to her, and she leaned to one side so she could see the
black box a little better. The lid was secured to the rest of the box
with hinges on the long side and a trio of latches on the other.
However, there were also screws pinning the lid closed all around its
perimeter, securing it shut.
What
would happen if I opened the box?
She
knew she had roundly rejected doing so earlier, but now that she was
certain of what was inside, somehow it didn't seem half as crazy.
Except she had no idea of Sonya's condition, how she was hooked up to
the computer, what sort of physical state she was in. Anna sat
undecided for what felt like an eternity, her fear and her morbid
curiosity battling for dominance.
She
glanced at the monitor and saw another message from Sonya. 'My
head hurts Anna make it stop.'
That
settled things in Anna's mind. Without another contrary thought she
hopped off the chair and pulled the rolling toolbox over to the
computer. Selecting the appropriate torque driver, she gingerly
pushed aside the masses of cabling and tubing that snaked to and from
the black box and began working on the first screw. They were tightly
secured and Anna had some trouble, but ten minutes and two sore hands
later she had removed every last one. She snapped the wing latches
open first, then reached for the main one, but again stopped in fear.
Why
was she doing this? Suddenly every instinct in her body insisted that
she stop, that she walk away. That she tell Adam what was going on,
perhaps, so he could fix it all. Or perhaps that she should just
finish the transfer protocol project and forget that this entire
thing happened. Forget that she knew about Sonya, let the whole thing
drop from her mind.
And
it was then, while she crouched next to the black box absorbed in
these thoughts, that she heard a sound that she would never forget.
It was a sound that completely banished all thoughts of abandonment
and betrayal from her head, quelling any desire in her to run from
something that she knew she could never un-know.
From
deep inside the box's dim interior came a sigh; the sorrowful, fitful
sigh of a child who has cried for hours and has no tears left to cry.
Steeling
herself for the worst, Anna flipped the final latch and let it fall
open, then took the lid in both hands and slowly lifted it up. It
creaked a loud creak, the noise of rarely used and never oiled
hinges. Anna's spirit sank as it occurred to her that this box
probably was not meant to be opened for a long, long time. She pushed
the top all the way open and looked inside. Initially she saw nothing
but a strange paper-like substance inside, very much like opening a
gift wrapped in tissue paper. She guessed it was some sort of
insulating substance meant to protect the subject inside and she
reached in and spread the paper apart. Even with all of the time her
mind had had to accommodate itself to such a disturbing idea, Anna
found herself unprepared for what she saw next.
Lying
on her back in the bed of insulating paper was the limp body of a
little girl, her slender arms straight against her sides and her
spindly legs sticking straight forward. She was dressed in a flimsy
piece of clothing that resembled a hospital gown in that it only
covered the front, and it was shifted around almost as if the girl
had moved quite a bit since being put into the box. But it was her
face and head that caused Anna to feel horribly queasy yet again. The
girl had no hair to speak of on the top of her head; rather, in an
obscene parody of long hair, from her scalp there sprouted
innumerable slender probes that connected to wiring which flowed out
of one end of the box and into the computer. The skin of her scalp
had actually been peeled away in some spots where larger probes had
been inserted.
The
girl's face looked similar to her picture in her file, except this
face was even more sunken and tortured. She wore a sort of blindfold
or eye protection of some sort, and thrust into her nose was a long
thin oxygen tube. Embedded into her abdomen were two other tubes, one
for food and one for waste presumably, and in her arm was stuck an
IV. All of the girl's skin shone a pasty white, and tattooed into her
upper arm was the number SVC1001-1FX.
Anna
gaped at the miserable form in the box for several long minutes, her
soul devoid of any feeling other than absolute revulsion and fierce
sadness. However, instead of willing herself to go numb, to feel
nothing this time, she dared to fully savor the depth of her grief as
she looked at Sonya. There was a grave injustice at work here and
Anna could not help but feel herself moved to sorrow.
Then
she heard the sound again, and clearly saw Sonya's chest rise briefly
and fall in a long unconscious and broken sigh. A single tear
trickled out from underneath the blindfold and disappeared into the
paper below the little girl as she grimaced faintly. Anna saw the
tear, the sigh, the pitiful condition of the helpless subject in
front of her and in that moment something snapped. Whether it was the
repellant combination of human and machine or the sudden thought that
the girl had a strange beauty about her, she was never sure. Whatever
it was, tears surged into Anna's eyes; she leaned on the side of the
box and wept, and as she did so she put out a hand and touched the
girl's face softly, feeling the surprising cold of Sonya's skin. The
unconscious form of the little girl did not noticeably respond to her
touch though, and Anna wept more.
As
she sobbed a notion crossed her mind and grew stronger the longer she
looked at the black box and its occupant. Who was this little girl to
Daniel? A friend? That seemed unlikely, considering he didn't project
an air of approachability especially to a small child. Or was the
girl his daughter? Anna stared into the child's face and tried to
recall Daniel's face for comparison, but the trauma of the girl's
ordeal made it difficult to tell if there was a resemblance.
Then
she remembered that she still had the other number to look up, and in
a lucid flash she surmised that the other serial number must belong
to Sonya's mother, since Daniel had described both of them with such
animated language. The girl must be his daughter then. The
question still remained as to what both mother and daughter were
doing in the SubVersion Complex in the first place, but that was for
a later time. Anna quickly closed the box again, replaced the screws,
and attempted to rearrange everything as close to its original
position as possible.
After
looking out the window and seeing the sun dipped low in the sky, she
decided that she would pursue the second serial number in the
morning, when she was fresh from a real sleep and not a long nap on
the couch in her clothes. She turned to take one last look at the
computer monitor and her pulse quickened at what she saw.
In
the Output window new words had appeared: 'I heard you crying did
you touch my face please make it stop hurting Anna please don't
leave.'
The
words ripped Anna's heart out. She winced as she deleted the log and
closed out of the Input and Output windows, not wanting to have to
explain to this child that she needed to leave and get some rest.
Besides, she remained divided as to what to do about the entire
situation. There was no way to just take the girl out; it was not
something Anna could do on her own anyways. Neither was there an easy
way to convince Dr. Jarrod to stop his experiment. He would never
stop, she was convinced. Nor could she simply let the whole matter
drop, she just couldn't.
The
entire drive back home was dominated by the image of that girl's face
floating in Anna's consciousness, the horrible probes and needles
protruding from the unfortunate creature's head, the plaintive sigh.
The emotions of the day threatened to overwhelm her as she guided her
car back home, and she wiped away more than one tear as she pulled
back down her street. Her hands still shook on the steering wheel.
As
she passed his house she noticed that Mr. Vickers had his downstairs
lights turned on, and as she pulled into her driveway she looked over
curiously to see what might be going on inside. The blinds blocked
the windows of the kitchen but she could see through the other window
that Mr. Vickers stood near the front door, speaking with very
animated gestures to someone out of sight. As Anna looked closer at
Mr. Vickers she could see that fierce anger burned in his face. She
had never seen him look so angry; in fact she had never seen him
really angry at all, ever.
Another
strange thing in the course of a very strange day. She ran into her
house, shut and locked the door carefully this time and set the
alarm, and retired to her room. A deep cloud of gloom settled on her
as she undressed and fell into bed, and her indecision smoldered
inside making her heart burn. She didn't know what to do.
The
second serial number was the only thing she could latch onto for
comfort. She would find out who and what it was and then figure out
what to do next.
And all of that was just caught on camera....
ReplyDeleteI must admit, this chapter was tugging at my heart strings. A lot. I would kill my way into that place, rescue that child, and kill my way back out if I could.
ReplyDeleteExactly! I was screaming at Anna "No! Open the box now! Get her out! They can see you! You will never get another chance!" If I had been in that situation I would have been terrified of hurting or killing Sonya if I tried to get her out and unhook her. I would have told myself that they would catch us and kill us, that I could not get through security with her. But I still do not think I could have left her. In fact I might have uselessly blubbered to her that I did not know what to do or how to "make it stop". But I still would not have been able to leave. Really one of the weirdest things about Anna is how preconditioned she is to numb what she is feeling to the point that she can't even process it. She is almost become more of the machine, really. There is still a woman and a human being underneath though. But she's been reprogrammed to be a machine. Just like Sonya, but in a spiritual and intellectual sense.
ReplyDelete