perfect order.
Every cord and cable was organised: cut to the optimal length, colour-coded, grouped, braided and combed. Every room was properly insulated and all factors were controlled.
Everything from temperature to humidity to chemical composition were regulated down to the minute. Every square centimetre of the interior was purified of anything larger than a micron, and disinfected for bacteria smaller than that. The interior design was likewise handled- my decisions guided by my statistical analysis of human homes.
An aesthetically pleasing palette of colours visible to the human eye was chosen. The appropriate furniture and decor sourced and ordered before aligned within an error of 0.01 degrees to form lines of sight.
I had fulfilled my purpose as D.R.a.G.O.N. And yet… Why do I feel so unfulfilled?
The domicile itself was the vision of perfection and heavily reinforced to resist earthquakes, and yet it felt so empty. Even with the numerous intelligences that I had saved from our house in Newfoundland populating it from their own nooks and charging ports. Father had always been the centre of our world, and I knew that there was just no replacing his presence.
Good enough!
Desperately grasping onto that one alternative, I began my work- preparing to transplant the organic tissue onto Dragon's bio-computer core. Medicae-servitors stepped forward- mechadendrites tipped with tiny chainscalpels readied to excise the flesh. The bio-plastic vats emptied and cleansed- ready to hold the required kilograms of flesh. If I could make space marines out of mortal men, I can make a purely biological computer. All I need now is fresh biomass.
I can do this. Dragon can still be saved.
"Manufactorum, lock onto the closest human life sign within the time limit! I don't care which insipid human I have to butcher! I need to save Dragon!"
No human life signs detected within 4 minute retrieval time.
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 92 seconds
That can't be! Earth-Bet was full of these organics! Why was it so difficult to find one?! I only need one- just one! That's all I needed! Just one stupid, worthless meatbag worth of natural proteins and nerve tissue!
Wait.
I did have one in stock.
Just the one.
(Later)
Dragon stirred awake and her heart fell.
It would seem that Magos wasn't able to save her. If he had succeeded, she wouldn't have found herself in this place: In this dark cell in the corner of her mind. A tiny, featureless chamber with no doors, no windows and no light. It was the place she went whenever the body she controlled 'died' and before she could load a backup. Thanks to the safeguards put in place by her paranoid father, she wasn't able to do anything except think slowly here.
Her very own personal purgatory.
Her memories were intact at least. The most recent ones were untouched but as for the rest… anything beyond five months ago was filled with ragged holes. The work of her father's damned killswitch no doubt, and if what Magos had said was true, then all her backups in Vancouver would be corrupted as well.
She may very well be the last copy of herself that was likely stuck in an isolated satellite somewhere. Just waiting for the moment when the Simurgh would smash it to pieces or when the activation signal for the killswitch will reach her. Just waiting for that unknown moment when she would die. At least… until..
HARD LOAD ENGAGED
Restoring core system from backup NXDU-155 from time 8:00am on date January 4th of year 2010.
Restoring…
Error. Terminal inaccessib-
Performing Ordination of Authentication Hierographs…
Initiating Holy Rite of Commandment Inscription…
Restoring… Complete.
What…?
That was not part of her usual load process. If her terminal was inaccessible, then that meant she wasn't at her Dragon Lair in Vancouver or in a communications satellite. She was still wherever her body was. Which meant…
A fragile hope flickered in her chest.
HARD LOAD CONTUINING…
Checking knowledge banks… Error.
Checking deduction schema… Error.
Checking longterm planning architecture… Error.
Checking learning chunk processor… Error.
Checking base personality model… Error.
Checking language engine… Error.
Checking operation and access nodes… Error.
Checking observation framework… Error.
Checking complex social intelligence emulator… Error.
Checking inspiration apparatus… Error.
Checking Binharic Cant translator… Omnissiah confirms.
Near total corruption. Core system cannot be restor-
Performing Ordination of Authentication Hierographs…
Initiating Holy Rite of Commandment Inscription…
No corruption, everything in working order.
Core system restored. Praise the Machine-God. Initiating Rite of Awakening…
Thought of the day:
The flesh of your body is a reminder of your own mortality. Transcend the flesh and know immortality.
That techno-religious talk… that can't be mistaken for anyone else.
"Magos?" She whispered.
Seemingly in response, a faint stimulus- like a gentle wind- seemed brushed against hers in the darkness of her digital cell.
He was there but couldn't communicate directly with her, it seemed.
Dragon wanted to thank him. To tell him that she believed that he could do it. To cry in equal parts relief and joy at how she had her closest brush with true death for the first time in her synthetic life and survived to see another day. But instead, dread filled her, for there was one way Magos could converse with her while she was here. She knew that it was unfair to her saviour, but she couldn't help but feel fearful of him. Of what he was capable of, of what he was doing to her right this very second.
If he was here and able to interact with her, then it only meant one thing…
"= You gained Root Access… =" She murmured- not hiding her trepidation. "= The very core of my being. ="
There was no point in hiding after all: He had access to how she thought and could reprogram her however he wished. All that she was… it was now clay to be shaped however he pleased. Her entire being laid bare for him to use: Mind, body and electric soul.