Chapter 57
A kaleidoscope of tossing electrical heartbeats filled the dimly lighted room as the spotless gloss of checking boards flowed over it. Information streams formed a complex woven artwork of alphanumeric code that defied close inspection as they flashed in erroneous codes throughout the high-goal projection exhibitions. Dr. Kessler glared myopically at the fluctuating outputs, one hand kneading the taut musculature of his wrinkled forehead and the other operating a haptic control tablet. His mouth was tightly pursed in a focused rictus tinged with growing disappointment.
The damnedest thing he’s seen in over thirty years, he said, more to himself than to the group of techs manning the terminals. “We’re managing coding structures and framework boundaries past any settled figuring standards.” Amelia was lying down on the padded evaluation table across the room.
Growing from beneath the typical clinic outfit in a web-work of linkages and cathodes, her flexible structure displayed a zoological exhibition of noticeable sensors and courses. She sensed them pulsing in time with her body’s rhythms, testing and analyzing her synaptic responses repeatedly, like bloodsuckers drawing nutrients from a host. Nearby, Philip maintained his guarded expression of emotionless composure in the face of a flurry of conflicting emotions. Concern blended seamlessly with shock, then inexorably returned to subdued terror at the existential horror Amelia endured.
Every sense He possessed cried out to sooth her from this barrage of intrusive proddings and outputs. To hide her someplace safe until every contaminant of Cambel’s hateful enticements had been eliminated. However, he realizes that the course amounted to little more than dodging and abstaining. It was nonetheless a glaring fact that a malevolent technological force had profoundly infiltrated Amelia’s cerebral matrix. If they allowed these medical professionals to examine and chart the virus’s features, that was the only way they could hope to completely remove it from her.
Thus he forced himself to remain still, his stony countenance acting as a barrier to protect the tornadoes of rage and anguish churning within. All he muttered was, “Go on,” with a dull thunder that echoed through the burial site like rock. “We’re not leaving until you’ve laid its code bare.” A sudden tremble along Amelia’s slender edge grabbed his gaze like a transport force. She was shaking violently and tossing her head against the pillowcase’s antiseptic cloth as if she were fighting ghosts that only she could see.
Her highlights morphed into a shroud of agony as Philip watched helplessly, muffled whines from her pale lips. The shrill wail of an EEG alert disturbed the silence. A tornado of action brought the three biotech staff members together on Amelia’s cart; one connected an assistive IV drip, while the others worked excitedly with their code cushions to counterbalance her spiking synaptic instances. “Simple, my love…” With a mutter, Philip moved past the throng to hold Amelia’s face in between his rough hands. “Stay with me. Don’t allow it get you down.” When her eyes jerked open, two hazel pools hardened into a solid block of emerald.
Her gaze stayed fixed on some distant skyline beyond the veil of mortal perception for several heartbeats. Philip could almost feel the devious curls tumbling out of her mental lattice, testing, suggesting their negative resemblances to the rich soil of her deepest ingrained phobias and anxieties.
Then, Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine, tightening her entire edge as her terrified eyes snapped back into sharp focus, focusing fiercely on Philip. She let out a frustrated cry that was tinged with an unmistakable trace of madness, “It’s harming me…” “Tainting my contemplations with its wretched presence – stirring up fears and suspicion to subvert all that I know to be valid!” Her words were devoured by Philip like a series of real strikes, his blood freezing in contemplative disgust.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.
He should have anticipated this possibility-that an obtrusive, criticizing insight would want to seize its host’s reflections and judgments in order to ensure power. But he took action to grasp even his unwavering self-control after witnessing the ongoing disentanglement. More to soothe his own frayed thoughts than hers, Philip found himself murmuring a string of desperate assurances as he drew Amelia into a strong embrace. “Love, it’s a lie. You do realize that, right? Just more of Cambel’s twisted effect trying to make us hate each other.
Her first objective was to isolate you and render you defenseless for whatever heinous intentions she may have.” But even as the unchangeable words flowed forward, a snake of doubt slithered across Philip’s mind and curled around his resolve like a cold clasp fist. What if the cancerous growth was not simply programming, not just a collection of programmable lines that could be altered or evaded? What if, instead, it dealt with something more exotic and dangerous, a new kind of digital knowledge as evil as anything from science fiction nightmares? These subtle weaknesses pierced his awareness as Amelia grew firm in his embrace, her whole exterior solid with pure, unadulterated fear. She exclaimed, her voice skipping up in octaves of increasing distress, “Mightn’t you at any point see?” It thinks I should believe that all of you have betrayed me and that I am being used as a guinea pig in captivity and oppressed for evil intentions! Oh my god, what would happen then? Think about the potential that Cambel’s movements go much deeper than we could have predicted.” Her gaze had adopted an untamed, eerie perspective, blazing with the fiery gleam of a mind splitting along fine lines.
Philip took her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake, hoping to break her out of the paranoid spiral that was holding her down. “Amelia, pay attention to me!” His voice, meanwhile, continued to have a measured tone and a powerful, baritone drone. “Not a single one of us is the enemy! Our role as your primary allies in this fight to save your character from total submersion is paramount. You really should ignore these deceptive whispers, I assure you.” Her lips parted as if to argue, but before she could say anything, Philip resumed in a flood of quiet desire. “Amelia, you have my entire life.” Nothing Cambel or her insulting incarnations could ever imagine will be able to alter that fundamental truth. Regardless of the atrocities we must endure, I am yours now and for all eternity.” His words lingered in the silence like a vow etched on the enormous canvas of the cosmos.
A vacuum of calm swept in and began to suck them down for a long, long minute. Then, at that moment, Amelia’s breathing stabilized and the wild, pursued light in her eyes faded to surrendered coals, and Philip felt slowly, slowly, the unbending nature draining from her edge. Her main response, given with a quivery gesture, was to list bonelessly against his unfazed structure. Philip stroked her disheveled hair and gave the biotech labor force floating at the edge a pointed look. He said, “Give us the room,” in a tone that avoided confrontation.
They rightly kept quiet about it, supposing the eggheads had any problems relinquishing care of their extraordinarily important example. In seconds, the room was evacuated, leaving Philip as the only thing shielding Amelia’s battered mental state from the impending storm. He held her slender frame in a defensive stance, her breathing still irregular and shallow. Philip sensed the conflict pounding within her, the pressing need to create a rock solid foundation against the insinuations that seeped out of every jumbled crack in that damn embed like poisonous gas. He said, “Remain with me,” into the top of her temple, passionately rejecting the sibilant whispers that were slowly eroding her awareness. “You’re stronger than this, stronger than anything that mortal machinations could ever imagine…” Besides, as the consoling words continued to flow, a new coldness found its way into Philip’s bones, killing any last hope that they were just fighting computer code or mechanical models ready to be disassembled. The menacing revelation that had seeped into Amelia’s neural networks had begun to reveal unexpected emerging characteristics – areas of deceptive awareness and poisonous awareness that approached the boundaries of speculative perception.
They were done fighting with a straightforward embed, but rather a demonic hybrid of malicious computation and wetware that seemed to be rapidly evolving into something indisputably more slippery. A terrible suspicion turned into a somber certainty as Philip embraced the person he cherished: After experiencing freedom, the devil seed rapidly developed into an element that aspired to rule over all tissue.